Friday, January 23, 2015

I'm a complete and utter (hehe, I said utter) Math-Challenged MORON.

Nothing is more gratifying than when you realize you are a total freaking moron. Especially when you put your moronicness (totally a word) out for all the internets to see.

I'd just like to clarify that I am in fact 33 years old. Years young. What the hell ever. I'm FUCKING THIRTY-THREE. Not 32. Not 34. Not 23, which is what I pretend sometimes when I do stupid shit, that's not related to trying to figure out my age.

I believe however, that this is the most epic of stupid shit that I've done in quite a while.

If you read my post yesterday, then you know I mildly freaked out and thought I was 33 (soon to be *gasp* 34), but somehow missed normal second grade subtraction and thought I was 32. Like, seriously spend 48 hours thinking I was 32. Told my trainer I was 32. POSTED ON THE BLOGGY I WAS 32. Told ALL the people I was 32.

When clearly, it's not only gloriously posted right under my picture to the right here----------
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                                                                                                                                                                  |----->
BUT anyone that has a grade school education can figure out that I'm actually 33. Not 32.

I think my math teacher of a mother (who taught me all though high school) is extremely proud of me right now.

Actually, Mother, I blame you. Yup. That's what's going to happen here. I not only inherited your side of the family's classy ditziness, but you neglected to teach your OWN daughter basic math skills. Yes, this is all your fault. (Again, I might be acting like I'm 15 at the moment, but let's not dwell on that, mmmkay?!)

And since I'm going to redirect my ignorance here, and continue on the Mom-Blame-Game, I'd like to share with you all EXACTLY where I come from.
This was Mother's comment on a post I put on FB the other day:

SEE PEOPLE?!?! SEE!!!!

All Heifer Free.

I'd like to be all heifer free as well Mother. But I'm referring to my heifer sized ass.



In other news: Day 2 of my Sugar Overload Diet commenced with my employee bringing in fresh, straight from the oven, still radiating warmth, Krispy Kreme Donuts this morning.
I've had 2.
I'm thinking about having another.
FML



1 comment:

  1. This is what I know. After I turned 30, I literally cannot remember how old I am. Like right now, I think I am 35...but I have to stop and calculate that i was born in 79...soooo in 2019 I will be fourty, and that's four years aways so...I'm 36? NO...I won't be 36 until September. And then Heather is older than me and I THINK she is 38 but that can't be right bc that makes her almost 40. Shit. It hurts my head. But I think it all boils down to...you might be a compulsive liar. but at least you are pretty. And that's what counts!

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