Talk about slacking. I’m writing this during the commercials of a Vikings marathon. I guess it’s a good show because like ah…duh, Vikings. But on the other hand, I’m getting the sense that these guys were kind of dicks. So I’m torn between wanting to have all of their little Viking babies and hoping each of them dies a slow and bloody death for killing those harmless British monks. On second thought, no.
No, I don’t think I’m torn at all.
Oh right, links:
Not that I will be getting anything from my mother for Christmas after bitching about all the cat crap she’s given me over the years (totally joking! My mom does really well on the holidays actually) but just in case, here is something I will actually USE.
It’s not the terrorists who are this Bostonian’s worst nightmare.
I’m still trying to be her when I grow up.
My depth perception is all over the place even when I’m sober, but I suppose it’s possible this baby is drunk.
Wow. It’s like I could have written this myself.
I don’t know why I look at stuff like this when I’m dieting. Starving!
Bands so obscure, they don’t exist.
Oh Jesus Christ, I’m trying so fucking hard but I just can’t not include it!
And finally, who doesn’t love a Sharpie?
Have a sweet weekend y’all!
Last minute bonus Slackers: This is NOT my fault. This post was DONE, when at the zero hour, I get a link from Rochelle that features a cat dressed in a shark suit, riding a Roomba and chasing a duck. Like seriously, am I supposed to not put that in??