Working For The Weekend

Thank jebus these election shenanigans are over with and everyone can please chill the freak out and shut the funk up about it already. It's been great and all, but I'm over it. Thank you and good day to you, sir. I'm so drained from it all that I could probably pull a Rip Van Winkle for the next 4 years, wake up and be perfectly fine with it. What I wouldn't be fine with is the little story I'd like call call: "Frightening Tales of Extreme Leg Hair and the Case of the Very Grumpy Eyebrows", so someone should really start stockpiling the Nair for my awakening, thankssomuchyou'rethebest.

But before I head out into the forest to be with my woodland critter friends, 7-midget harem and into my Disney brand hyperbaric chamber, I shall leave you all with one last view of election day stupid:





Does anyone really give a flying rat's ass who Paris voted for? Who the flip CARES? Because I'm pretty sure her one vote for Tila Tequila for president ain't gonna matter. Unless Tila plans on mandating "free wonky eye surgeries for all!", then Paris' vote is probably important.