I want to walk on the ceiling so that I can get the upside down books

So, for those of you unfamiliar with the layout of my apartment, my boyfriend’s room has a little bookshelf near the very top of the ceiling above his desk (or the piece of plywood bolted to the wall that our apartment complex tries to claim is a desk). I have recently been feeling rather cheerful, which is a change from my usual feelings of rage and sadness. However, for me, feeling cheerful often means less “cheer” and more “dopamine induced stupor.” I’ve never actually experienced the effects of a mind altering substance (not counting caffeine and alcohol), but I wonder if my cheerful mood is comparable. First, I drank three cups of tea while watching Mad Men (oh how I love Mad Men) and rolling around on the couch. Then, I decided to roll around on a softer piece of furniture. While poor Cuddles attempted to play his video games, I was laying with my head upside down, dangling off the edge of the bed saying things like: “Woah. Your ceiling looks so cool upside down. It’s like the floor. Except, I know it’s the ceiling. But I still want to walk on it. You should look at it like this. It’s so floor-like. And your books look so cool. Like, they’re just hanging on that shelf. I want to walk on the ceiling so that I can get the upside down books. I love upside down books.”

I don’t really have that much to say that doesn’t involve me ranting heavily about my issues with an order I placed a month ago (who knows, I might regale you all with that story someday), but I felt the need to post something because I haven’t updated in a while.

Anyway, when I wasn’t completely drunk off my good mood, I also read my very first Playboy magazine! I would give a thorough review, but, well, it was really sad. I mean, none of the women were attractive. None. It was so sad. All that nudity and nothing, man. The articles weren’t very good either, and there were a billion of those crappy watercolor comics that you find in every magazine. You know, the ones that always end in a painfully bad joke. Except here the cartoons were diiirrrtty. Oooooh. Adding blurry nipples to your sad little watercolor comic doesn’t improve the quality of the jokes. So, if you were planning on purchasing a Playboy magazine, I would recommend just pirating that crap instead. Or you know, watch porn online.


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