BREAKING: More Lies. Probably.

Firstly: Dudes.  I'm sorry.  (Because I know all of you wait around with bated breath for new blog posts.  Shut up, Carly, you self-centered douche, you say? Okay.)

My lower back (or lumbar spine for all of the medical professionals I'm certain read this blog), like my twat of a stomach, is one shifty bitch, hellbent on confining me to a mostly-horizontal position and causing the lower half of my person to burn with the same kind of searing pain I'm sure Steve experiences whenever he urinates out of his floccus-encased pee-hole.  So I've been dealing with the fact that I'm probably going to end up permanently hunched over, shuffling around in public while flailing a Penny Saver advert at passing cars and screaming, "PLEASE!" at my boyfriend to give me some of his cardboard.  Wait, what? Okay, that might've described a homeless woman I saw downtown outside of my office building at lunch one day.  But she was hunched over at like, a 90-degree angle and I'm pretty sure that's where all of her problems originated.  All of this to say that I've been trying to prevent myself from becoming that woman but it's been a slow process, and writing about attempted rape has kind of fallen by the wayside.

But! The post is coming along, I promise you.  I'm making a concerted effort to at least finish up the writing portion of it this weekend, and then hopefully gathering all of the screenshots over the course of the coming week.  I want to thank all of my very (patient) loyal readers,  You know that you rule and I know that you rule and because of that I'll gift you with what I now consider my New Favorite .Gif Ever:

And by "favorite" I of course mean, "Here.  Take this julienne peeler and slowly exfoliate the top layers of each of my eyeballs with it." Drink it in, guys.

Image courtesy of the author's Mad makeagif.com Skillz.

BREAKING: But Not Really.

(I posted this filthy lie early last week on social media.* I had the intention of blowing through the writing of the "Halloween" recap this weekend.  Instead, on Friday night, I drank margaritas.  Followed by several vodka presses.  And on Saturday, in lieu of writing, I hated myself, slept on the couch, and only occasionally stirred to stuff grease-soaked grease into my mouth in the form of In-N-Out.  And then I thought about writing and didn't because being horizontal was more important.  In conclusion, "NEW POST UP WITHIN THE WEEK HURRAY" is a total sham, perpetrated by a delusional loser who is easily lured by the siren song of enchiladas, margaritas and Los Feliz bars crowded with boater hats and the bearded assholes who love them.  All of this to say that the post will not be up by Tuesday, or any other weekday next week.  But probably in like, the first week of May or something.)

Sing it, sister! Dylan's The More You Know Moment also self-servingly leads me to a shameless promotion of my next blog post, wherein I recap A Very Special Episode of Beverly Hills, 90210 about Halloween and how if you're costumed as a vampy witch, the guy who played The Jimmy on Seinfeld will try to force-feed you snack-size quesadillas and then attempt to rape you.  Which you'll totally deserve, by the way.  Because how can a man be expected to remember to not rape someone? I mean, really.  That's a tall order.  And on that note: NEW POST UP WITHIN THE WEEK HURRAY.

*If you don't follow me on social media, I don't blame you.  Also: I hate the term "social media." But if you're feeling particularly charitable, you can follow me on Instagram, Pinterest or Twitter.  I'm not that great about updating them or posting pictures of my meals or sunsets and stuff, but it would do wonders for my self esteem.