Trashola

This movie was so much better when it was called Chasing Liberty. And by 'so much better' I mean 'time to fire your agent, mlles. Holmes et Moore.'

Well, this is it, I'm in hell. (Two doll hairs for the schmo who can match the previous quote with the movie it hails from...) For those of you who don't know (Mom, I know you know, so just skip this part) I work at a law firm. My job title is "Somebody's Bitch," which is a step up from "Answer the Phone," the position I proudly held for a good few months before being promoted. I recently had the chance to take a large pay cut to run for freedom into the arms of a dream internship, and I had to turn it down, mainly because I don't want to live in a cardboard box and sell sniffs of my panties for food. Yes, friends, it's true: behind all this Old Navy couture, I am broke as the proverbial joke. The money I make I spend on Very Important Things, like the Olive Garden. But I have made my decision, Tara, I'll never go hungry again, or some shit. I will pinch those pennies, I will scrimp and save, I will make those ends meet, by God! I will leave this place of law and torture!

Speaking of, look how douche-y Kevney looks now! Take the time to notice Kev's LiveStrong bracelet. Does this mean I'm hip, or does this mean I should kick my shoes off and call myself Bobbie-Jo?

Arthur Kane has passed. My theory: He witnessed this bimbo wearing his band's T-shirt, and he knew it was all for naught, and then his heart just gave out.

I give up.