blabber face

if i was an inanimate object, i’d be a label maker. i feel an urgent need to be able to classify things as more specific things, and then to compile these into groups of vague relevance. Lists, they call them. and i love lists.

things i’m good at:
-walking fast
-loving carbohydrates
-being self-deprecating (mainly to distract people from the truth that i’m 98% narcissistic)
-recognizing faces (also known as heavily stalking people on the internet)
-speaking Spanglish
-spending all my money
-falling asleep during movies
-texting 300x a day
-holding grudges
-getting parking tickets

things i’m not good at:
-math
-caring about the environment
-showing up to work on time (i can arrive everywhere else within reasonable punctuality)
-making physical introductions (“sorry, i forgot you weren’t invisible..”)
-blogging (refer to self-deprecating fallacy above)
-listening to music at healthy decible levels (insert awkward subway/elevator experiences)
-making my compliments sound genuine
-cooking anything that you might enjoy eating

things i want to do when i’m 69
-rock obscene amounts of old-lady cleavage (stoked for inter-generational awkwardness)
-wear a diaper whenever i stinkin’ want
-dye my hair pink
-walk around with a hairless cat on my shoulder named angelina jolie
-drive a tricked out german automobile

getting old sounds like a hell of an opportunity to dispel awkwardness upon anything and everything, with the excuse of slowly going crazy while watching my live body deteriorate- a notion i intend on exploiting to the fullest.

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