This is the Christmas Dog of Warnings. He's here in his festive costume to warn you that parental discretion is advised in the reading of this post. You must clearly be bored and not give a damn that I'm about to word vomit all over you.
Christmas Dog has warned you.
(Me, when I'm not crazy...just a regular 'ol classy gal. And avid Doctor Who fan. But the classiest kind.)
Buuuut instead of writing something deep and profound...or even, instead of thinking anything deep or profound, wanna know what I'm thinking?
I just demolished some McDonald's fries and the last of my chocolate oranges and I'm not sure if I want to cry because: a. OMG what did I just eat?! b. F*CK, I ate too quickly and nowit'sgoneandIdidn'tgettosavoritandIWANTMORE! or c. should I nap or study my lines....naaaaap or stuuuuudy....why has this always been my problem throughout history?
All this wonderfulness is wrapped up in the loveliness that is PMS...oh no boys, look away or you make catch it!
I'm really good at keeping readership up.
Just wanted to share that to make everyone feel good today. I mean, did you try to lick the salt out of a medium fry box? No. I didn't think so.
When it comes to this time of the month I really need to hibernate or just be continuously drunk. At least then my eating habits would make sense. I have my fingers crossed that menopause is not this hard.
OH WAIT GUYS....just googled "menopause"...cause you know...that's what you do when you're avoiding doing things you should be doing, and that's also what you do when you want to scare yourself. After reading the following article, I have decided that I am, indeed, going through some sort of weird menopausal life.
Yes...my life is menopause. CLICK HERE FOR ARTICLE ABOUT MY LIFE: AREYOUEXCITEDORSCARED?
Particularly take note of number 8...it's like they looked through the internets and into my soul. I too have thought about writing some poetry, did already take a walk today (yeah speed walking on a rest day, look at me go), would like to watch back-to-back lifetime movies (or in my case, my PMS prefers something with more aggression...craving a back-to-back viewing of the Dark Knight Trilogy, honestly), and I have considered taking a hot bath and drowning myself in it after consuming ALL THE CHOCOLATE and red wine I can find.
(I'd like to take this moment to give myself a pat on the back for ROCKING my BA in English. Queen of run-on sentences right here folks. No autographs please.)
Now that I've officially left you with all of that to ponder, in addition to why you're reading this post at all....oh that's right I included some fun-ass picture at the top and a catchy title, then posted it all over social media and therefore you just had to click, didn't you? No. No, actually you're my Mom and you feel you have to read it out of solidarity to your offspring, you know I have no other dedicated readership except for family, and 'for God's sake Lindsay stop swearing and talking about drinking!' My Mom, folks. I should get her to do a blog post as she is much more eloquent than I. Then you'd learn something.
Then again, the blog is called 'Smells Like Sunshine', and let's not kid ourselves...we're not here to learn.
Thanks for letting me word vomit, internets. I promise that I'm not always crazy. I mean...just look at one of my more respectable family members, like my little sister---->
She is not at all gonna be pissed I posted that pic. No but seriously, she's not a crazy bird-lady bank robber....she's sane. Promise.
(The "There's a law suit in your future, sister" look that she gives me when I take her picture "for the blog!") Ahh family love. If I didn't have family, I'd have nobody to annoy constantly.
Xx,
Lindsay
This is a picture of scrapple. It is the love of my life now, I do believe, and I've never had anything quite as good as all the left over pork bits fried up.
P.S. I love that I'm writing posts like this after recently becoming a devote follower to a London lifestyle blog that is much more elegant and fancy than myself. Now I feel like it's being all judgy. Don't know why I'd feel unclassy at all. Nope. No idea.
If it fits, then it goes there.
You're my favorite. :)
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