… and I say, “N–” … hold on a minute.
I was watching a bunch of shows yesterday (MTV’s True Life — LOVE it!) about people who were big ol’ alcoholics or drug addicts or whatever. And now I’m pissed off that they get to go to rehab and I don’t.
Stick with me — I don’t do any bad drugs and I AIN’T gonna stop drinkin’, but what’s wrong with sending me somewhere restful where somebody else will cook my meals and look after me? I know, a spa kinda does that, but they don’t love you like the rehab folks do! They’d probably get pissed if I asked for a mojito, though…
Speaking of which, I ALSO want to live in a retirement home. Why do only old people get to live in a community where they get their meals made and someone plans fun activities for them? That being said, though, it does tend to piss me off when cruise directors and what-have-you try to get me to join in activities… all I do on vacation is lay on the beach and drink, sorry.
Maybe just a fleet of servants? But then I couldn’t sit around the house in my underpants eating peanut butter out of the jar. Or maybe I COULD, but they might call someone… who would take me to the loony bin! The LOONY BIN! Meals made, life arranged, fun activities and crafts AND the good drugs! SOLD!