So I'm looking at one of my favorite Scandinavia and the World comics, about the penis museum in Iceland. [link]
I'm looking at the last panel, where Iceland is showing off his lamp made from testicles. My phone rings, and I say "Company Name Te--"
And my tongue locks up, because my brain just realized I was about to say "Testicle Support."
I'm still fighting to keep myself from bursting into inappropriate giggles and trying to avoid any word that begins with "te".
Forgive me, I need to vent.
Dear 2011, FUCK YOU. Just ... fuck you. The rest of this year better be filled with winning lottery numbers and fabulous book deals and trips to Disneyland.
My Dad just texted me. His mom, my Grandma Vida, passed away this morning. I am so worried about him. I am also tired of crying.
To sum up, fuck off, 2011.
Oh, Jilli, I am so sorry. Your poor dad. And you poor you. Ugh.
Oh, Jilli, how awful. I'm so sorry.
I am so sorry, Jilli. I'll be holding you and your father in my heart.
Jilli, I'm so sorry for your family's loss.
Jilli, I'm so sorry for your loss, and am wishing strength for your father, and for you.
I'm so sorry, Jilli.
I just had a meeting where all the Calc II instructors got together to go over the first draft of the midterm. This meeting ended up as about 45 minutes of people screaming at each other.