Archive for the ‘daily affirmations and observations’ Category
my fresh-pressed juice recipe
You’ll feel like you’re licking the armpit sweat off of a Falafel King employee with this homemade elixir which promises to terrorize your colon.
“The Spicy Armpit”
Ingredients:
4 oz of organic baby kale (triple washed to reduce your chances of salmonella poisoning by 1 to 2%, at most).
1 giant clump of ginger root that resembles the anatomically correct Fallopian tube model in your gynecologist’s office (I have no idea if you’re supposed to peel it first, so will most likely die because I didn’t).
4 peeled clementines (this will produce about 1/89 oz of juice, for the record; not enough to sweeten the bitter burst of kale death you’re about to experience).
1 overripe Pink Lady apple that you probably should have thrown out two weeks ago but you were too busy still cleaning out your juicer from last month.
Juice on high until the green sludge drizzles out into your juicing cup, like toxic fertilizer runoff into the Ohio River.
Throw out your juicer because it would be quicker to order a Blueprint juice and have it shipped 3-day air then it would be to clean that thing.
Pour into a cocktail shaker with ice (and vodka if you’re smart).
Enjoy while watching World Cup soccer and pretending it’s Julio Cesar’s ass sweat you’re chugging (which is pretty much the only way to get it down).
fitting roomtastrophe
When the salesperson said, “let me know if you need another size,” clearly that was his way of telling me, “you haven’t been an extra small since you were 12.”
I honestly don’t even know what happened here.
the dirtiest thing you’ll never clean
Does anyone know if it’s acceptable to use the commercial deposits lane at the bank drive-thru if I want to avoid handling the tube in the other lanes?
I’m sure the security footage of me Germ-Xing the tube will be used one day when my sanity is questioned, but I don’t care. Tellers should pass out gloves instead of lollipops.
hyde parking horror
I’m officially done with the Hyde Park parking garage. Do not judge me for spending my mortgage in lululemon and then taking the elevator to my car because not only does that stairwell smell like a tuna fish’s unchanged diaper, but this was left on level 2. I will literally rappel off the roof before I walk down those stairs again.