I'll be damned.

Literally. God don't like ugly, y'all. You heard it here first. It's wasn't bad enough that I gloated all night about my Rick James Fiasco. It ain't enough that I came here to work, still cracking up, and wrote about it. Naw, that wasn't enough. My brother had to call me at work so we could further laugh, and discuss the debauchery and evil that went into last nights siege. I guess He'd had enough of us being so mean. In the middle of the conversation, Junior burned his hand on the Top Ramen pot, and almost immediately thereafter I spilled Lactaphenol Cotton Blue reagent all over my crispy white tee from the swap meet. Screams and hollers abound. Lesson learned, God. Call off the wrath, okay? I'll be good. I wish I hadn't worn my new Nikes. I'mma take them off before I spill something on them too. Ugh. Repentance sucks.