or… I Can’t Be Bothered to Conjure Up a Witty Title This Evening, Folks
I woke up with vivid dream leftovers this morning. I was in a haunted house with all the various and sundry traditional scary things chasing me up and down countless flights of stairs. Then I was studying to be a nurse at MSU and our first day in class our teachers had an unexpected VIP coming to the hospital for a medical procedure and they assigned us the task of painting their hospital room. I got partially dried latex paint in my mouth and (surprise surprise) couldn’t get it all out of my mouth and it was actually multiplying until I could barely breathe. As I was spitting the nasty crap out of my mouth into a napkin only to somehow have even more accumulate in there, I was running all over campus trying to find an open bathroom to puke in. Nice, huh? Holy Freudian Crap, Batman.
I went to a Girls Only Garage Workshop today and count it as a total success.
I won a doo-rag, a nice bike cover, and bought some kick ass boots with a special 15% off today only coupon. Most importantly, I decided that me and the stupid scooter are gonna tangle, and I am so going to win. I will not be bested by an old, cantankerous, Bingo-playin’, Lucky-Strike-smokin’, Elvis-collectin’, Mama-from-”Throw Mama from the Train” Kawasaki 440LTD. I’m gonna put on my new boots and kick some rusty corroded ass. Bitch. I oughta trade her in. Or better yet, kick her ass then trade her kicked ass in.
Rip it, roll it, and punch it, dude.


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How about “These Boots Are Made For Kicking YOUR Ass, Bitch!”
Or is that too much?
It is SO too much, therefore, I LOVE IT. It’s so good, it shall be my next title whether I write about my kickass boots or not!