My girlfriend insisted on doing a blog post
I am dictating. This is my girlfriend speaking:
This is Candace, otherwise known as Candy-ass. ‘sup? [she is kind of jerking her chin up as she says, “‘sup” in a “cool” and casual way.] I am a relationship expert and you should ask me all your relationship questions, because I am good, except when I am bitching and telling you off. Tell them I am a relationship expert except when it comes to me. Man, the landlord is going to be mad if I spill wine on the carpet.
Tell you what, I’ll just stick my head outside the room and lie on the floor like this. Like this. [Rolling around on floor] Bring me a tissue. ’cause I have some drops. But I didn’t make them. Honey, are you coming? [now lying facedown on floor]
No, you’re not still dictating. ‘Cause it’s embarrassing. C’mon. We got to get to the stove on our bellies. Like Jabba!
No! Don’t drink my drink! Because it’s mine! You didn’t like when I did it to you!
Did you know that the Canucks are still in hockey? My kids told me today. They’re in grade one.
No, wait! Stop! Will you marry me if our relationship looks like a frog? Like a frog. Wait. Let me explain. Because that print I did where we’re hugging. Everyone thinks it looks like a frog.Will you marry me if our relationship looks like a frog?
Can you turn on Randy Bachman? Will you still marry me if I’m drunk every Friday night? We can tell Randy Bachman, ‘Fuck you, Randy Bachman, I’m not working overtime.’
I love you overtime. Do you hate me because I’m drunk? I told you I was getting drunk. Can you please drag me to the living room? I’m sorry. I had a hard week. Special education people are hard. That’s why I had to start with pickles tonight. Pickles and alcohol.
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