It's the worst thing when you feel stuck. To the point where I've been sitting here for ten minutes staring at the wall as though it's going to write my next sentence for me... Well I wish it would. I wish it would fill out my applications, march on over to that pie shop I worked at, and crumble half it's drywall ass all over my ex-boss until she's in a pile of rubble so high that she cant move anything but her hand to sign the money over to me that she rightfully owes me. Good grief.
Instead, I feel like a leach. Someone who can't even buy groceries for herself, get anywhere on her own, asking for a wall to go do her dirty business for her.
I could take this woman to court, but I'd have to get there via my red road bike, and I don't have the lung capacity to ride up to an 8,000 ft elevation. Damn pie in the sky.
If anyone goes to Estes Park, stay away from any sign that says YOU NEED PIE. Don't let the devil brainwash you. He is a naughty businessman, as are all the owners of that god forsaken sugar shop.
Aisle 2 is another bakery in town, and their coffee doesn't come in a pod brewed with stale water. How does water get stale, you ask? Ha. You'd be surprised. Such a complete blasphemous use of all things good that God made from the ground. While am at it, one more secret... all her cakes are made from Betty Crocker boxes! Just add water, egg, and: voila. Sugar. Coated. Deception.
Bastardized, Blasphemous Baking.
Phu.
