Today, I’m sick and tired of trying to solve other people’s problems. I have tons of problems of my own. Like … I hurt my thumb. That’s a problem.
Also: how come the other people keep dancing to my song? That’s my song.
And I got a parking ticket.
You know what else frustrates me? Nipple hair. Why do women even get nipple hair? It doesn’t make any sense. Men have it. Women shouldn’t have it … unless their boyfriends or husbands need to floss their teeth, but … still.
And what is with all these girls getting sick and coughing all over my face?
Think about it: who invented the high heel? A man, I’m sure. Why would you want to squish your five toes into something tiny, triangular, and small? It’s painful!
And everyone keeps wanting to borrow my tampons! Gross!
Additionally .. I’m sick of dancers wanting to borrow my shoes. Who else wears a size 11 ½?
Also: Last Tuesday the music in the club was TOO LOUD, so I had to dig out a pair of earplugs from the bottom of my tiny purse and put them in my ears, and then I got an ear infection from them, and I had to go down to the clinic, and all the money I made that day I spent on the frickin’ antibiotics. And now I have to eat a lot of yogurt.
Why is it okay for a man to be topless, but a woman who’s topless is obscene? It’s so unfair. (And there are some men that just shouldn’t be topless. Really, now.)
Why do girls bring their dogs into the strip clubs? Those poor dogs. Who knows what they could catch?
What is the Q-U thing in Scrabble? Why doesn’t it just come with the letters together? It’s ridiculous. And there are like sixteen Q’s and only two U’s. What?
Why is that some strippers have their own names tattooed on their own body? Are they going to forget? Are they going to get turned into the Lost and Found? Besides, when they look at themselves in the mirror, it’s going to be backwards anyway. Duh!
And one more final thing: when you’re sitting at the stage, don’t text your mother. Oh my God, it’s uncomfortable for everyone!
Okay. I feel better now.