I Can't
I can't... with the misplacing of the $ sign. What I mean is when human people write out dollar amounts like "35$." Are you? Is that? I... what? Did we go to elementary school? What is happening? Who taught you to write it so literally? It goes in front and I fucking can't.
I can't...
eat my morning oatmeal anymore, y'all. I just can't do it. I'll be on it for months and months, and then I hit a point where the taste makes me want to gag. I literally have to choke it down and grimace with each and every bite. I wish I was hungry enough upon waking up to make eggs or cereal (making cereal is so intricate, though), but I'm just not. Any suggestions on that?
I can't...
believe Lorde's US concert tickets are $56. Girl likes herself. I mean I like herself, too, but shit! Let's be honest, Lorde. Most people wouldn't be able to name more than two of your songs, if that. If it was a life or death situation, and the escape was to be able to name one of your songs other than "Royals," well... a lot of people would die. You're amazing, but I'm gonna have to get back to you on that price.
I can't...
with Blackfish. If you have yet to sit down and subject your mind, soul, and tear ducts to this heart-wrenching documentary, please do so as soon as you can. Yes - it's hard to watch. Yes - it's graphic at some points. Yes - I sat on my couch and sobbed on and off for the whole 83 minutes and Cece thought my tears meant I wanted to play so the entire situation was confusing, but it's so, so good and so eye opening (avail on Netdix).
I can't...
understand how I can ingest the exact same type and amount of alcohol on two separate nights and each time, my reaction is completely different. Example: many a time I've drank 2.5-3 heavier beers and have achieved a mild level of tipsy. Then, many another time, I've had the same exact amount and beer and the room is spinning, my legs are tingly, and I want to makeout with a wall. What gives?! "Well, Emma. It probably has to do with what you had to eat that day and your exhaustion level, etc." Shut up.
I can't...
this morning, in the parking garage at work, I started to get out of my car and gather my laptop bag and head to the elevators when I looked down, and saw that a button on my shirt had popped completely open and I looked exactly like Elaine when her button pops off in the theatre and Lloyd Braun thinks she's trying to flirt with him. Literally. I gasped so loud and I'm pretty positive the car THAT HAD PULLED UP RIGHT NEXT TO ME saw that entire situation. Good. That's great.
I can't...
that there was a man at the gym last night in a white t-shirt, wrangler jeans, "I've been working on the farm" boots, and a camo hat. Lifting weights. This and this alone is why no one should ever be nervous to be a part of the gym community. You are most likely an in-shape swimsuit model compared to the typical gym goer. Trust.
I can't...
handle Thought Catalog's status updates recently. What gives? They used to just post their articles and a lot of their articles were funny and light-hearted. Yes, some were deeper and darker for the days you needed those to read, but for the most part, they had good, funny material to write about. Now, everyday, they've started this new thing where they write these long, tired diatribes about feelings and emotions and lost love as pure status updates. It's very bothersome to me. Take the worst oversharer you know on Facebook (you know, the one who's like "ugh. today is so bad. worst mood ever" or "cannot believe the nerve of some people. that's fine, keep lying. you'll get yours. UGH. don't ask - but do ask, please. in the comment section. kthx.") and multiple it by 10 and that's what Thought Catalog is doing now. Have a drink and calm the fuck down, Thought Dick. Here. Use this one next time. I wrote it just for you:
...I could love you. If you let me. Remember that time at your aunt's in Connecticut? We laughed so hard. We drank whiskey clean until we saw the sun rise and talked about your dreams. I listened. We cried.
I can't...
with the song "Gas Pedal." Mark my words, if and when I ever hear it when I'm in public, I'm going to try the hardest I've ever tried to be a sexy black girl. My butt doesn't twerk, but I'LL BE DAMNED IF I DON'T TRY. Watch me.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X8LUd51IuiA
I can't...
deal with girls who refuse to drive anywhere alone or be the first to the restaurant and save a table for the rest of the group. I know it stems from insecurity. I get that. But like why do you need anyone to drive some place with you? I mean, once you pull up and park and walk in, you're there and everything's okay. It's not a movie where you're gonna be ridiculed by people standing outside as you walk in by yourself. It's not like you're gonna stop halfway through your walk to the bar and take your hair out of a banana clip and suddenly turn into the hottest girl in school. Would you just stop it. Grab your labia and SACK. THE. FUCK. UP.
I can't...
believe this May will be five years out of college. Cue quarter-life crisis. What do I have to show for it? A few jobs under my belt? 10-15 extra pounds on my body? The understanding of paying bills and not drinking disgustingly cheap beer? No, no. I know lots has changed since then, I just can't believe it's been almost five years. Lord. Lorde.
I can't...
roll my R's.
I can't...
do weird shape things with my tongue.
I can't...
perform any sort of gymnastics except for a standard cartwheel.
I can't...
wait. What does T-minus stand for? Let's look it up, right now, together.
From Wikipedia: "A countdown is a sequence of backward counting to indicate the time remaining before an event is scheduled to occur. NASA commonly employs the term "T-minus" during the preparation for and anticipation of a rocket launch, and even "E-minus" for events that involve spacecraft that are already in space, where the "T" could stand for "Test" or "Time"."
Whew. Don't you feel better? I do. Now I can with T-minus.
I can't...
anymore. This video portrays my entire mood today. Bye.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=doOTTmutAz0&feature=youtu.be
xox,
emma
