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  • Kathryn Wright

I Literally Can't Even.

Welp. Thats it. 


Call me Humpty fucking Dumpty. I’ve officially cracked.


C R A C K E D.


Earlier….okay, wait for it.


Deep breath.


I WANTED TO GO FOR A FUCKING RUN.


I know David, I know.

I’m so disgusted by this fact. I don’t run. I can’t run. I shan’t run. But, here we are. I want to run.


Watching me run is like....


...well honestly, there are just some people not meant for fast movement. I am one of those people. And I'm not even fat any more and I'm STILL not meant for fast movement.


The last time I ran is because I thought my car was being stolen. It wasn't. It was being moved by a friend. She 10/10 understood why I don't run. My body is not made for upright motion.


Well...not upright on my feet motion. *wink wink*


And in case you're wondering, yes I DO giggle when I hear the word penis. I have the emotional maturity of a 12 year old. Sue me.


But yeah, honestly, nothing should surprise me anymore these days. The world is ending. Trump is president. I love cats. I'm fully obsessed with WWE. RHONY is premiering without Bethenny. Bravo bores me. I’m officially sober. And...Andrew Cuomo has pierced nipples.


WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING.


Guys, I’m losing it.


HI. It’s me again. Still here.


...29 and feeling fine.


Jk.


Not about the 29 part, today is my birthday which means….idk. I’m 29. And basically on house arrest.


Before I continue, let me circle back to the sobriety thing.


...Okay, before I do that, just real quick. ANDREW CUOMO HAS PIERCED NIPPLES. Like...this shouldn't bother me because I love people that don’t fit in boxes. And this new revelation literally has like nothingwhatsoever to do with me, but I just...I can’t. 


I kept saying that earlier and my roommate kept saying “You can’t what?” 


I can't. I can't!


...I CAN’T. I JUST CAN’T.


“YOU. CAN’T. WHAT.”


“...DUDE. I JUST...CAN’T.” Which then escalated into "I literally can't even" and more confusion ensued. I can't explain white girl vernacular. I just literally can't even.


It twas our own personalized version of Abbott and Costello's "Who's on first."


Like.....



You are fucking high if you think that's anything but barbell nipple piercings.


I've had mine pierced. I know this. So yeah. Apparently we are part of the same club. (Hi mom.)


...and that is where the similarities end, but that is neither here nor there. Back to the fun stuff.


...Sobriety. Yeah. Happy birthday to me...2 weeks sober today woo fucking hoo. Actually...that kind of reads as sarcasm, and that's not how I mean it cause its a BFD and a long time coming.


So now that I am stuck at home permanently with nothing to do but go crazy and lose my sanity, (try going sober when the world is ending. It's great. I'm fine. I'm totally fine.)...I am going to be blogging a lot more. But...


...and while I have several rather heavy blogs to follow that I've pretty much already finished...today is not that day.


Maybe tomorrow, but not today.


So yeah, I'm still here. *turtle time*


...I know this is a highly disappointing fact for some of you.


SORRYtodisappointtherandomstrangersontheinternetthatknowmoreaboutmethaniknowaboutmeandarevupsetihaventkickedityet. *COUGH COUGH 2 FEET FROM YOUR FACE*


OOPS. hi. Still here bitches.


So yeah, heavy personal stuff coming soon. Just not today. Why?


Ugh. Stassi, you are a gift.


Oh, and before any of you pull a Karen and send me hate mail that I am going to openlyroastyouon, I, along with my roommate are like the fucking poster children for immuno-comprised literally just fucking signthedeathcertificatenow if we get Covoid (which has apparently mutated faster than Jax's STD's) so I can joke if I want to.


My blog, my body, my choice to be an insensitive insufferable ass. Actually that's just you, but whatever.


It's called "using humor as a coping mechanism." Ever heard of it? Probably not, seeing as how when God was handing out humor you were on hold waiting to speak to the manager about how you are being personally victimized by expired coupons.


Aka not my problem. *COUGH*


I mean, I just can't. Quarantine. FUCKING QUARANTINE??


More like house arrest.


I really shouldn't complain, because honestly, I have it good. Im stuck in a beautiful house on a gorgeous street with my 9 cats, 4 dogs, 4 birds, and a fuck ton of fish. We got the whole Finding Nemo set up in the living room, its dope.


And on top of that, my roommate is now broadcasting from the living room table. So, I'm stuck at home with my best friend...so I shouldn't really complain.

I've received many messages from new readers that have found my blog saying how they feel bad complaining thinking about me and others and what we're going through.


Fuck that. Complain. This is some bullllllshiiitt.


I mean, thank you. But there are no heroes here. Well, aside from Corey "I am Spartacus" Booker.


And every police officer, health care worker, bank teller, food service delivery person, every essential person. We see you. We thank you.


I'm just very envious of your ability to leave the house, TBH.


Honestly, if I was kidnapped I would probably ask my captor to marry me over sheer excitement to leave the house. We could bond over our love of fitness and Betty White.


...everyone loves Betty White....amirite? (HA. See what I did there? I's so punny.) Jesus Christ I'm using dad humor. Someone euthanize me.


And I only say our love of fitness because in my mind it's like a super realistic scenario where Roman Reigns or The Rock kidnaps me.


And the fact that I just chose WWE wrestlers as kidnappers puts my "I've cracked" theory on a 10x10x10 out of 10. FACK.


The one upside to this quarantine thing is that people watching is at an all time high. I mean, these are honestly some of the most boring people to people watch I've ever seen...but still. People watching is people watching. We live on a street where lots of people walk, its pretty and quiet and green...so I sit on the porch so the walls don't suffocate me, and I people watch.


But now, aside from the CDC giving preschool hygiene lessons to adults "wash your hands" (honestly who HASN'T been doing this?), they are telling people "go for a walk." Oh. NOW you fucktards want to listen. Okay.


So yeah. Thanks. Just send them all my way.


So I sit on the porch and people watch.


And smoke. YES. I'm horribly aware of the irony and effects and the whole shebang (I already am sick can we move on), save your lecture. Sober during a quarantine people. Remember?


So basically I exhale smoke and inhale their judgement.


So far, everyone is mostly normal. Aka fucking boring. But I literally saw someone running and reading a book earlier...theres that.


Oh. And then there was a weird guy half naked that im 99% positive was about to flash his junk at me before I dipped in the house.


And then there's the people that stop and say something along the lines of "you have a nice house" or whatever. I get it.



Happy people want to be nice. Okay, I'll play. I say thank you and smile back.


But then, they stand there. Um...no, I'm not inviting you in. Go away.


*exit into house as fast as possible*


I call it SOCIAL DISTANCING MYSELF FROM STUPIDITY. AKA smalltalk. My friend said today it's because I look approachable. No, I look like a homeless crackhead squatting on someones front porch. I need to force myself to at least put some foundation on, because with all this paleness and dark circles (this is new...thank you stress and turning almost 30), I've got a whole Beetlejuice aesthetic going on.


But yeah, for the most part everyone is normal...which is disappointing. I mean I don't want like...WEIRD weird, but all I'm saying is this shit is wayyy too vanilla for my liking. (Says the most vanilla person ever.)


Also, apparently these are the people that heard the "take a walk" memo, but not the "6 feet apart" part. These fools are clusterfucked as hell.


...As they pass, and hug, and say "stay safe." FACEPALM.


My FAVORITE is the people walking with face masks that take them off when they talk to each other as they pass. I'm not even kidding.


KINDA DEFEATS THE PURPOSE...DONTCHA THINK?


It is in moments like this that I am thankful for natural selection. Kind of like the "COVOID-19" challenge of licking a toilet seat.


I mean, I'm no angel in terms of putting my mouth in places I seriously doubt God intended, and will have a lot of explaining to do to her when I'm trying to cross the pearly gates (ha, like I'd make it that far)...but I can say that I've never licked a toilet seat.


I mean, things that go on the...



Fine. Ugh, I love David so much. We don't deserve the Roses.


Speaking of TV shows....that brings me to my next point.


Carole. Fucking. Baskin.


I swear I feel like I'm about to get murdered in my living room. That bitch 100% killed her husband and CREEPS ME THE HELL OUTTTTT. Hypocritical hippie full of shiite.


Yes, I am one of the sheep that gave in and started watching the damn show. I mean if were being honest, there are only 2 things that currently exist in the world. Quarantine and the Tiger King.


...Tiger King Quarantine. Mix tape coming soon.


Seriously tho, the world has gone batshit crazy. Like, literally it's either a Joe Exotic meme, or Quarantine talk. That's it.


Go home world, you're drunk.


I...thankfully, am not.


So, yeah.


...Stay safe.


We'll talk again soon. xx.

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