Thursday, January 30, 2014

Moving Apartments Is For Objectifying Turkish Oil Wrestlers

I know I still haven't finished telling you all about the couture and the places I am now banned from in Paris, but I returned to the states earlier this week (I got a full police escort to Charles de Gaulle Airport...what with being forcibly deported and all) and have had to deal with moving apartments which is just so middle class.
The effects of moving on otherwise sane people.
 
Of course I'm not really doing any of the work; I hired a bunch of burly Turkish oil wrestlers to do it while I sit on my couch drinking pinot grigio straight from the bottle. Basically I watch them bending over time and time again, their muscles bulging and...well, it's been a surprisingly relaxing experience. There was one awkward moment when they accidentally broke a 1,500 year old Ming vase that mom bought me for an ash tray, but these things happen. Plus I got a free slave out of it for the next six months.
I gave them a lot of breaks because I'm a nice employer like that; the only caveat was that they had to be shirtless. The whole time.

In the meanwhile here are some things I've been thinking/doing/watching/listening/reading/loving this week:
Jared Leto's hair.

That basically sums it up.


TTYL bitches,


Love,
Patty

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