A (Spectacular) Year in Review

BANGCARRIEANDMARIKA.BLOGSPOT.COM: THE INAUGURAL BIRTHDAY BASH (BANG), BROUGHT TO YOU BY GOOGLE FIGHTGEIST

CLICK HERE TO DO IT TO IT>>>

DON'T MAKE 5ENSE!!

Things I have seen:

• A nun in a sushi restaurant
• A blind person with a Chihuahua in her purse
• A giant cat
• Someone’s parents eating weed cornbread at thanksgiving
• Mysteriously black/blueish knuckles of my right hand middle and ring fingers.

Things I have heard:

• The resident college gaming n3rd talking about sex, cybersex and porn
• Joy outside the library on a Friday evening (including someone shouting “hi seniors!”)
• Someone who I’m not ready to hear pass gas, pass gas while sleeping. Five times.
• Someone who I’ve heard pass gas for the past year and a half, pass gas in the bathroom. And the living room. And his room. Multiple times.

Things I’ve smelled:

• A cellphone post microwaving
• My elementary school art room in a market aisle
• My grandpa’s pipes that he stopped smoking when my older sister (then 4-5ish) hid them. Clearly not too attached to them if he couldn’t find a preschooler’s hiding place. Somewhere on the street.

Things I’ve touched:

• The hearts of many
• A probably lice-infested and/or Hepatitis-B carrying, free Lotsa Heart Elephant Care Bear Cousin stuffed animal.

Things I’ve tasted:

• Sweet, salty, bitter regret

Marika, you need to shower. You need to shower, Marika

No, you cannot wear these same clothes, you slept in them and they have dog hair all over them.
Also, do your homework. And put away your laundry.

Jeez.

How I Feel About Homework

I LOVE U MARIKA I HATE U HOMEWORK

A blackened carbon brick with barbecue sauce of shame and rage

Have you ever been in the library basement bathroom, and you're squatting over the seat because it's gross and there are no toilet seat covers, though you probably would've squatted anyway, and your urine streams out at an unexpected angle, leading to pee down your leg and into your boot?
I haven't. Yesterday. In the morning. Roughly seven to eight hours before I'm going home.

...NAWWT.

Also, I printed a document yesterday, and some girl took the whole stack of papers from the printer, and I waited, assuming she would find and take her thing and put the rest back. She put back like three half blank pages of something that isn't mine and then walked away. I had to reprint my 20 page article. That's $2. That's a bottle of wine. Or eight cups of hot water. Or one cup of tea plus the fifty cent tip I inevitably leave because it's awkward and I often kind of know the worker, which makes it worse. I hope you enjoy C. Lee Harrington and Denise D. Bielby's Global Television Distribution: Implications of TV "Traveling" for Viewersm Fans and Texts, shitbag.

Also, I just spilled scalding hot tea on my hand. Right on my recent paper cut (who gets paper cuts?! this is the DIGITAL AGE) scabs.
It hurts.