assholes


Mer: Hey Alice, guess what?

Alice: What Merry, aka Merbear?

Mer: I’m an asshole!

Alice: Omg, you won’t believe it but – they diagnosed me with that too! It explains so much!

Mer: Wait, you’re also an asshole? Where’s your documentation?

Alice: Well I don’t have it YET, but I looked on Web MD and I have all the symptoms.

Mer: I always trust Web MD as a diagnostic tool. I ate the last two cookies so I wouldn’t have to share with my kid. Selfishness is a major symptom of being an asshole.

Alice: I hide my treats on the very top shelf where they can’t see it. Also I get up really early to beat them to the last donut.

Mer: Well shit, you really are a fellow asshole. Should we celebrate this by tripping someone?

Alice: Yes, let’s head to the retirement home.

Mer: I also defy my doctor’s advice. I eat bacon, vast fucking amounts of cheese and occasionally, lard.

Alice: Straight from the can?

Mer: Yes, it’s the fastest way to raise my cholesterol. I just shrug, like, I have no idea doc! I just tell him that my body is an asshole.

Alice: Mine too. Like when I covered those chocolate chip pancakes with syrup and whipped cream, and more chocolate chips, my body wanted to eject it all onto the table. That’s what waiters are for, after all.

Mer: Yes and to bring us Moons Over My Hammy. If you wink and show some cleavage to a male waiter, sometimes you’ll get an extra slice of ham.

Alice: I did that over and over and all I got was a restraining order!

Mer: Hey, have you ever done a drive-by screaming at someone on a street corner? Such an adrenaline rush. “Get a car, loser!!!” And then, they jump 5 feet into the air and start to cry.

Extra points if it’s raining and you hit a puddle. (Based on a true story, you guys.)

Alice: Such entertainment! Much better than simply faking them out with the car – will I run you over or won’t I? Over too fast. Speaking of cars, you really must drive a Porsche with personalized license plates saying “The King” or something classy.

Mer: I totally agree. I’m better than everyone. My shit doesn’t even stink, man. Is that blueberry muffins I smell? No, that’s just Mer’s natural essence.

I’m the me in monogamy.

Alice: Well, I don’t even have to shit, cause I’m a model, you know what I mean?

Mer: How do you purge yourself of waste, Christie Brinkley?

Alice: It just turns into tiny butterflies and flies out my vajayjay.

Mer: My hair is always perfect. I never have a bad hair day and my breath smells like sunshine.

I always knew you were an uptown girl.

Alice: I am. But I’m getting so tired of my high-class toys.

Mer: They do get boring after a while, like I don’t ever use my bluetooth anymore. I just talk loudly into my phone, in public.

Alice: That’s so five seconds ago! Now everyone uses tiny electrodes surgically implanted in their ears that broadcast every thought directly onto Twitter.

Mer: Twitter is the biggest asshole of all times favorite social media outlet. I prefer Pinterest, I found the greatest recipe for a cheesecake that I’m planning to eat all by myself, in the bathtub.

Alice: It so is! But I still like to broadcast to my adoring fans in public too. Like all about my last plastic surgery!

Mer: Tsk. Didn’t I tell you that your breasts are perfect? Seriously, get a nose job instead.

You wanna go skip some stones and accidentally miss on purpose, oops!

Alice: We can’t help it, we’re assholes.

Oh, I’m sorry, someone more important called, so gotta hang up on you!

Mer: And I’m going to post 20 photos of my dog on Facebook.


If you haven’t already, please check out Alice’s blog. Thank you!

Alice at Wonderland

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