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01/08/09
01/08/09
as does hypocrisy
which means this particular post covers both
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"Next week we get the GOOP guide to the best places to eat and stay in NYC."
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That room better be cheap.
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Because it is full of genius.
01/08/09
*Also floating around in that scary little quagmire: some trivia about swords.
01/08/09
Though, in fact, it's more like 20% intentions to blow things up, and 30% self-aggrandizement.
01/08/09
Mmmmmm, cheesecake...almost as delicious as another hit of negative energy...
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Here's an example.
I find that when you feel a hunger sensation, the best thing to do is go and stare into the refrigerator, thereby gleaning potential meal ideas and gaining valuable insight into what you actually feel like having. After you've ascertained your current food desire, you have two options. One. If you have the items necessary to allay your appetite, commence. If not, here's option Two. Go to the menu drawer, peruse the offerings on the pertinent menu, and make your selection. Then, find your phone-device. Dial the number listed on the menu and communicate your sustenance needs to the individual who answers your call. Wait patiently. Meditate upon your impending nosh. When at last your doorbell rings, go to the door and open it. Accept the items being proffered you by the delivery person. Hand the delivery person the proper amount of currency and accept your change. Close the door and take your seat. Remove the food items from their respective containers and begin eating. Continue eating until you are either sated or completely stuffed, whichever you prefer. Once finished, go and smoke a cigarette. And voila! Nourishment for body and mind is not as difficult as you may have originally expected! Go forth and enjoy!
Peace and enlightenment.
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I don't care that she does her workouts for her ass though and not heath and energy and feeling good physically. I can relate to that. I hate exercise. The only reason I run on a treadmill like a gerbil or do yoga is to fit into my jeans.
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I'm tired of constant suggestions from the media and from castor-oil-addled celebrities that I'm not good enough. It's fucking exhausting enough to bust my ass to pay my rent and be out of the house for 12-13 hours a day and not even be able to to find clothes because everything that is "haute couture" is sized for teenaged Jack Russell terriers and I'm a Sasquatch. I will never not be a Sasquatch, Gwyneth, no matter how much castor oil and organic escarole and extract of rainbow starlight I consume. I will never be able to care about your unicorn earth mother exercise routine or your mid-century sink. At this rate I'm lucky if I'll ever be able to own an actual sink.
I'm getting my hit of negative energy. Mmmm. Don't mind me.
01/08/09
You and I, we're on the same team!
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