If I weren't so suburbanly complacent (and isn't that a startling reality all its own) and mindlessly terrorized by spiders, I would send in an application to be a Survivor contestant.
Each seasons requires there be at least one out of shape, slightly overweight, snarky, out of her element Mom figure, correct? I can handle that role.
Maybe a memory foam mattress could be the one personal item I get to bring with me? Because sleeping on the ground is so not happening these days.
1 comment:
I can see it now....i'm bringing my fucking mattress, so don't mess with me.
Get me the fuck out of here "did you see the size of that spider" ewwwww....spider dance, spider dance,
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