dean and de-puke-a

i am so angry and sad today, i wish i was a heroin addict so i could never feel anything.

i went to dean and deluca and i swear it makes me want to add meth to that so i have an excuse when i murder everyone in there.

i am currently eating the worst pasta i have eaten in my LIFE. my 8 year old niece could have done a better job.



behind me in line was a thick girl from chicago talking on her cell phone right in my ear. i even plugged my ears with my fingers like a baby to let her know how annoying she was. i noticed she had two slices of rare steak in a clear box. atkins much? here is a clue. eat two gallons of ice cream and then puke it up. it might work better than that no-carb bullshit.

when i chose this poisonous penne there was a close breather next to me. like, following me and stretching her neck past me to get a closer look at the food. i could smell her laundry detergent she was so near. grody.

then, at the checkout there was a woman in her work out gear--head to toe. but she was buying 18 sushi pieces (that's two whole containers) AND a big chicken salad sandwich. and she asked for mayonnaise. she better keep that work out gear on.

seriously though. i should be shot and put out of my misery. maybe i should pull an owen wilson and then we can be friends in recovery. (too soon?)

by the way, here is the recipe for the pasta i am eating:

penne
oil
cream
green peppers
cajun spices
spring onions (what!!?)
gasoline

no, i swear. gasoline.


peace.



P.S. HERE IS HOW MUCH GREASE WAS IN THE BOTTOM OF THE TUB (WHICH WAS ONLY HALF FULL OF PASTA)