High-Fiber Diet of Fuck and Run-On Sentences

So I pull into the parking lot at work this morning looking fabulous because I just got a haircut and highlights and I park my car and I'm walking through the parking lot holding my head a little higher than I normally do and I'm almost at the entrance (as are a couple of snobby co-workers who can NEVER condescend to look at me, let alone speak to me because what they do is SO much more important than what I do or some shit like that) when I trip on my shoe and lurch into one of those awkward gravity slam-dances where you are running and falling at the same time and I finally catch myself after like FIVE HOURS but not before spilling the entire contents of my purse including a bunch of loose tampons and a box of over-the-counter gas-relief medicine that has a big-ass label that screams "I'M A LOSER BECAUSE I FART A LOT." And these classy jackasses I work with walk right over my rolling tampons and don't say a damn word to me.

Incredibly Offensive, Do Not Read

Dear Michael Stipe:

Yeah, so you have some new French photographer boyfriend who is 17 years younger than you. Who cares? I certainly don't, because look at his freakin' shoes!!! I'm sorry, but are you his lover or his social worker? There is just no excuse for a gay man to be wearing bad shoes like that, especially in Manhattan. And to be photographed in these shoes!?! Why, Michael, why? When am I going to be one of the three women for every seven men you are attracted to? Are you going to write songs about his shoes, now? Do you have some kind-of velcro fetish or mentally-challenged fetish? Because I can be so very mentally-challenged. You should see how I dance and fall in parking lots. I can also let some type of crusty fog build up on my glasses if that turns you on.

Whatever. Screw you. I'm happy for you. You better marry this one.

Call me if you need a gaybee mama. But do it quick because my eggs are about to expire. My rates are low, especially if we skip the turkey baster and do it the old-fashioned way.