I suddenly realized if I could turn my snarky sarcasm into a paying job, I could be employed forever.
So now I call myself a creative.
Basically, I give a sh*t in my imagination.
It’s quintessentially the day drinking job of my dreams. It’s like driving the bus one way to karma town. Hell, piss me off once and anyone can board the bus!
My swear jar has become a swear barrel, full of monkeys and other shenanigans.
So the moral of the story friends is that you can be anything you want to be, that’s how delusions work.
Now, what’s a nice girl like me doing without a drink In her hand anyway?
Surely it must be five o’clock somewhere,