Thats not how you spell chicken foot...

...was the sentence i woke up saying this morning. i'm not sure why as everyone and their step-uncle knows how to spell both chicken and foot. nevertheless, i was groggy as shit. i had the best idea to go to bed last night on top of those 67 pounds of laundry and i woke up with a drier sheet stuck to my shirt (and i thought it was a giant scratchy bug, duh), a crick in my back because of the gargantuan jean ball that accumulated, and a severely stuffy nose. i'm super psyched to take my ethics exam on only 4 hours of sleep, thank you very much teah.

i hope your happy, fucking narcissist.