Ninety minutes and a few tolls on the New Jersey Turnpike could conceivably get me this:
The point is when Tarzan comes out, it’s going to be like this?
Who do I write to, to overturn this travesty? My congressman? God?
I’m seriously bummed, y’all.
Hopefully Alex will at least get some sort of shredded Hulk pants when Tarzan goes back to the Congo, but I’m still too True Suck/DEA gun shy to hold out any hope.
But I’m totally onboard with his sack of destiny…
I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to post anything, but the last couple of weeks have been busy. In addition to having Boss Man visit this week, last week Cadet Boo Bear got a bad case of homesickness, which led to me baking chocolate chip cookies for him that same day when I got home from work, which happened to be a Wednesday night, and then paying UPS $53 on Thursday morning to ship them to him overnight, so they would still be fresh.
Only for his school’s mailroom to notify him – two hours after the mailroom closed on Friday afternoon – his package arrived.
And they’re closed on the weekend, so he didn’t get them until Monday. Had I known fuckery would be afoot, I would have brought them with me because we visited him over the weekend for their New Cadet Oath ceremony.
Who do I write to about that travesty?
And since I’ve already told you how I tend to deal with fuckery, this should come as no surprise.