AIDS-e Shoma Mobarak!
I hate France. I used to love France. What happened to me? For the past hour and a half, I've been sitting in my apartment str8 hydratin and rollin on foam. I feel like my posture is getting worse. How can this be? Mamman periodically calls, asks about my chakras, if I'm going to graduate. Shut up I'm busy.
Looking back years from now, feminist historians will undoubtedly argue that this April was verily the cruelest month for the Beneficent Allah. First off, I'm quitting coffee, and...my spine feels wobbly-wobbly. I know, it's just the chemicals but...it hurts! ouuuch! I think the Actual God got his butt blown up, I'm so worried...I just got a check for like 10 G's in the mail, and it's tax-free, and...all I want to buy is cash.
I've also developed an unfortunate little prescription drug problem. I need to rail some ritalin just to go to sleep at night...but my nose is always stuffy from the ritalin, and only ritalin can really clear it up. Vicious cycle, no?
To make matters worse, I've sprouted a sharp pimple on my chest that is super sensitive to pressure. Like when I push on it, I start worrying about my heart. Alright I'm lying. There is no pimple. I sense your doubt, and that's okay. You suspect that there really is a pimple, and I'm lying about lying to protect my fragile ego. I see no way to convincingly state the case without digging a hole for myself, yadadadawmean?
Good Shabbas, my flock. Please! remember: don't hog the challah; praise be to ALLAH!