Some days the mascara's perfect, but your purple granny panties are sticking up out of your green army pants for like six hours at work before you notice.
Hey, at least I figured it out before the overnight guy came.
Music for frozen coffee-slurping suburban punks who drive to the mall in their mommy's minivans to buy Star Wars t-shirts and heavy metal key chains from Hot Topic on Sunday mornings. I'm sad that I'm crazy. I'm even sadder that you're stupid.