I Can't

I can't...

understand why the following always seems to happen:

-- I'm poor - like actually super duper effing broke, so I do the logical thing and go ahead and blow what little money I have left in my bank account.

-- I feel like a humpback whale after a weekend of drinking heavy beers and eating fries accompanied by 3-4 yummy sauces, yet come Sunday morning, all I want to do is add on to my new layers of blubber by stuffing my punim with heaping spoonfuls of mimosa and benedict.

-- Every Sunday, without fail, I want Chick-Fil-A. But they're too busy loving JC and hating the LGBT community. It's like hey - y'all are the ones offering ME your biscuits. Soooo...

I can't...

accept the fact that it's okay for me to eat a bowl of pasta with chicken in it, topped off with a red, meat-based sauce. That's two meats in one dish. Is that okay? Or is it kinda weird? It seems like a double negative in a way. Is it sort of like eating cereal and sipping hot coffee at the same time? Which, for the record, do NOT go well together.

I can't...

handle it when my friends are complaining about a health-related something that I deem to be pretty minor, but I'll be DAMNED if they don't check in on me every hour on the hour when I have a cough or a sneeze or something in my eye. It's like you forget that tiny ailments can be the worst/most annoying when you're not suffering, so you automatically categorize your complaining friend as whiney and over-dramatic. But when something isn't right with me, I'm dying. When something isn't right with you, you'll get over it. Are we at an understanding here?

I can't...

ever finish the last sip of beer. It's just so sickening. Whether or not the backwash rumors are true, the grossest thing to me is how warm it is at the very end. It reminds me of being a young something in high school, thinking I'm so hot taking sips out of a luke warm Keystone can. Also, I think of skipping that last gulp of beer sort how like when girls don't finish the last bite of their meal - it's a mind fuck that you're saving calories. YAY - NOW WE CAN GET TACO BELL BECAUSE I DIDN'T DRINK THE LAST SIP OF BEER ON THREE DIFFERENT BEERS! CHEESY GORDITA CRUNCHES FOR ALL!

I can't...

stop my slowly but surely growing love for my two new favorite SNL cast members who are really starting to peacock their talents:

Both are hilarious, both have a super wide range, both make me die laughing most episodes. You see, SNL ebbs and flows. It's very cyclical. Like any sort of "team," it takes a few seasons to really get your groove going and learn who the champions are and who you need to kick off the team or trade to some other team like a shitty, bound-to-fail sitcom. Kate's Hilary Clinton and Taran's, well, everything are spot on. I especially crapped my pants after this particular sketch last week:

http://www.hulu.com/watch/542152#i2,p5,d2

I can't...

understand people who have smelly closets and don't keep air fresheners hidden in there somewhere. What's the deal, guys? Do you not smell that? Are you that oblivious to the stench of your own two feet? No one's blaming you. It's nature. We stuff our feet into tight shoes or boots for the duration of the day - they're gonna smell. Then, you take it a step further (pun intended HAR HAR), by sticking them haphazardly into a closet to just kinda sit and rot. Your closet is basically a sauna and your shoes are overweight men with breasts bigger and saggier than your grandmother's just sitting in there, naked, talking about sports and stenching up the place. GET A DAMN FEBREZE SIT & REFRESH. Here, I'll even give you a link to it: Here ya go. Right here.

I can't...

believe how excited my dog gets EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. I walk into the front door. I could've walked out, walked downstairs, forgotten something and come back up to find her completely alert and freaking out like I just got back from a 6-month sabbatical in Zimbabwe. I imagine if she could talk, she would be saying something to this effect every time:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZoL2wzAozFM&feature=youtu.be

I can't...

not eat chips and salsa before a Tex-Mex meal. Like, to not even have one chip dipped into salsa is almost blasphemous to me. I've tried, don't get me wrong. I've done that whole "I'm being really good, y'all. I can't have any chips. Empty calories, hello?!!???!" Cut to me shoving three chips into my mouth at once, and screaming "I DON'T GIVE A FUCK! YOLO! I'LL SHIT IT ALL OUT TOMORROW ANYWAY!" Dieting or any form of it is not what I would ever call my strong suit. Give me chips or give me a sword to stab into your heart.

I can't...

handle a certain type of "selfie." Here's the thing - I take selfies. I've gotten a lot of slack for them, too. Some assholes hate them and think I'm a self-obsessed whatever. Some people don't mind them. Some people are creepily obsessed with them. Regardless, at least selfie-takers similar to myself have some tact. Yeah, I may think I look cute and want to show you my #OOTD, but I tie it altogether with a funny caption. Or I really, truly am trying to show you my new lipstick color. It's the ones who try to cover up the fact that they have nothing more to say than it's a selfie that are doing it all wrong. Examples are as follows:

like this one might say, "these new headphones were so worth the money. love them!"

this one might say, "OMG look at my stapler!!! ignore my super thin arm, though. silly thing gets in the way of the stapler."

this one might say, "sooooooo bored! ugh #tuesdays"

All I'm saying is, if you're gonna take a selfie, just own it. Don't try and mask it with a half-ass caption. Own that you think you're pretty and want some "likes" for validation. It's okay. You're only human.

I can't...

stop.

And I won't stop.

I run things, things don't run me.

I don't take nothing from nobody except free food or drinks or compliments.

xoxo,

emma.