Argh, I know it is 7 o'clock and my cellphones rings with fury as I hit it's snooze button for the sixth time but I just cannot get up (and by can't I mean I don't want to). But if I don't get up now I will be late for class. Although that does sound tempting I just can't miss another day of Uni. So, I stubble out of bed and drag my slouchy body towards the bathroom. As I feverishly attempt to wash and get dress in record time, I am presented with the arduous task to get my ass in my jeans. And no, it isn't the "denial" this time. I learned the hard way that damp bodies are not receptive to fabrics, especially denim. It had an unnerving death grip on my thighs, stopping almost immediately at my bottom. This time I don't need my mother to tell me that "that thing can't go in there, Chernay. It just wont". Side-line Analysis: "It"? "thing"?? Like "it's" an ugly step child that should be kept in the basement. Come on, Chernay. Keep it together, I can do this.I give it another enormous jerk and this final tug sends me sliding ass first onto the cold, hard ground, hitting my head on my beds edge. Best thing is, I just popped my button...and my pants...didnt move...an inch.
I am now writing to you in my beloved jeans as confirmation that it in fact was not just my ass. Happy dance.
New label inscription = WARNING: attempt to put me on a damp body may lead to injury or death 'cause I'm a fucking asshole and you're lazy.
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