some time ago, a female friend was over to check out the place. she asks to use the bathroom and i oblige. in the back of my mind i'm thinking "bitch make it quick, i do evil in there." she however was in there forever. eventually she comes out with my white hand towel up to her face-- she's wiping her mascara on my WHITES!
Fuck that! I hate when there are filthy random stains on my nice whites. if any of you have ever been to my place, i only care about 2 things. 1. high thread count on my egyptians cotton sheets 2. my perfectly white towels; fluffy as sin.
"BITCH! Don't use that towel!" i yelled bereft of courtesy. she looked frightened-- the face reserved for the moments right before you realize you're gonna get a blast in the face. "what kind of blast?" you may ask yourself-- just ask maria ozawa.
I digress. The resonance of my outburst echoed off the wall, and got back to me. As it hit my ear drum i had the stark realization that if i admit that i'm very anal about my whites and linens there will be much more harm to what semblance i have of being a easy going joe. i can't have my visage crumble under the precept that the truth is i love martha stewart for more than her g.i.l.f-ish wiles.
"why?" she meeked.
"uh.... cuz... uh... that's my nut rag... your eye will get pregnant."
in my head i was all "ha ha... yeah.... problem solved ::air five::"
8===> ------ O;
the end.
"OH MY GOD"
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