I'm a girl, so sometimes I go off on thinking tangents about random things. I don't mind so much, because some days I can't muster up any organized thoughts at all, so random ones are considered a win.
Today was one of those random days. I saw this stupid fucking vehicle driving in front of me on my way home from work and all I could think about is why the hell that company thought it would be a good idea. It's the Nissan Cube. What the fuck. What is this thing classified as? A car? A crossover? A toaster? Nissan, can I place my slices of bread in this vehicle to produce toast? Will it butter my bread? Who was the fuck head who was like, "Hey guys, lets make the opposite of a 370z and a gtR. It will be AWESOME!." Fire that guy. You are cock-blocking yourself if you drive one of these things.
I don't understand why people have to be such giant assholes. I get it, guy. You had to park two whole spaces away from the handicap spot in the parking lot, and walk an extra 17 feet to the gym, and in turn that gives you the absolute right to be a giant dick to me. Why do you even have handicap plates? You look like you're walking just fine, and by my estimate you're only about 50. Suck it up tough guy. If being mean to me because you think I'm being sarcastic really makes your day better, then i take back my "good morning" and my "have a good one."
Speaking of sarcasm... just because i have a sarcastic tone once i get comfortable around people, doesn't mean i'm sarcastic about everything. It's been stated by highly regarded experts in the matter that I, Lauren McAwesomePants, am socially awkward. I don't know how to have normal conversations sometimes, guys. I might sound like i'm being a bitch, but most likely I'm being genuine. (Unless I say something like "fuck you, you smell terrible, go away," then I probably AM just being a bitch.) I don't understand why everyone doesn't get me yet. I'm friggin' weird. As in I'm not normal... I'm abnormal. That's my appeal. You probably have enough normal friends, even that shit out with a little slice of sweet, sweet Lauren. Don't make it weird.
I don't understand the appeal of oatmeal.
I don't understand why people would want to live in the midwest.
I don't understand why Futurama got cancelled.
I don't understand the smell of vanilla extract versus the taste of vanilla extract.
I don't understand zumba.
I don't understand why I don't have my own radio show yet.
It's past my bed time.
I love you all. (ok... THAT was sarcasm. I don't like some of you... not one bit.)