Hey you guys!! I just made a totally awesome drawing out of punctuation marks. Want to see it??? Here it is:
Do you know what it is? Do you? Do you? Guess. Guess guess guess guess.
It’s a flying fuck…
…which is what I don’t give about the Oscars, who won an Oscar, who was wearing what at the fucking Oscars and how awesome the Oscars are. Because really, other than the temporarily exciting prospect of sanctioned gambling in the workplace and schadenfreude at people who cry or fuck up their acceptance speeches, the Academy Awards and all of their less-“important” minions are a scourge on humanity. People, there is shit going on in the world right now. Very important fucking shit. So please, please, please, please turn off the moving tribute to John Ritter and go read a fucking book.
Until then…I’ll be not giving a flying fuck at a rolling donut. Or, as my retarded workplace style guide would have it, “doughnut.” Because it’s CLASSY. “Tee-shirt.” Sting. Phil Collins. Product presence. Classy.
If you need me, I’ll be on a homicidal rampage.