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Jerk kitties and wasted ice-cream



My Name is Belle. I'm hear to fuck up your day. 


I swear whenever I start a blog, my life falls apart. It's like the world knows my life isn't interesting enough to keep people entertained, so it throws me some curve balls. Gigantic, infuriating curveballs.

Tonights curveball had me locked outside of my apartment for four hours....phone-less, money-less and most annoyingly key-less. There I was getting ready to go out for dinner, in my usual at home attire aka 99.9% naked when a text came through from a friend asking me to bring his hoodie down to him. After begrudgingly hunting for clothes, I grabbed the hoodie off my bed and was halfway down the stairs when I remembered that due to adventurous Kitty McNuggets roaming around my life I had to shut the door (an odd site in this apartment).

It was when I tried to open said door that I realized how much I just fucked up my night!

After pulling and tugging relentlessly at the annoyingly stable door, I ended up finding a discarded kitchen knife left over from a BBQ and spent approximately 25 minutes jamming it in and out of the lock whilst heaving my body into the door with as much force as I could muster. Nothing.

To make matters worse, I could hear Meow Mix rolling around on the other side, pushing her little firework (yes, literal fire work) around and essentially laughing in my face that she was not the dumb ass who locked herself out!

One hours passed.

No sign of any other life forms (except for the sounds of asshole Kitty loving her love)

Two hours.

I remembered I had a five dollar bill in my back pocket....bought ice-cream (of course)...poor choice, no spoon.

I then proceeded to spend the next fifteen minutes using my index finger as a spoon whilst glancing over at the security camera as if I could actually see the people judging me from the other side ...1 girl 1 pint.

Forced to discard remaining ice-cream due to lack of freezing device...devastated.

Three hours.

Mind lost.

Rolling around on the dirty floor, done giving a fuck, hating Kitty.

Eventually my two tiny blond guardian angels appeared to finally allow me access to my own home!


Frenemies.


I imagine this is how Tom Hank's character felt when he finally got off that damn island in Castaway except that instead of pining for Wilson, I was pining for Ben....and Jerry.





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