Imbroglio

I have an imbroglio. It means a problem. A horrible problem, and it summarizes what this blog is going to be about. I have way too much time on my hands and not enough jobs to do, besides cleaning, which I hate... unless I'm cleaning Jared's house, because his house is a freaking palace. Whatever.

I have a problem with a lot of things, like Uggs, for example. I hate them. I think if you want comfortable feet, get an orthopedic insert, don't get horrible, fuzzy, ridiculous boots that look like you should be deep-sea fishing in Alaska. Ugg Boots are called Ugg because they're "ugg"ly. Hideous. You are not cute when you wear them.

And if you're a girl who wear sweatpants tucked into the boots, I will physically remove your shoes and risk getting a restraining order. I don't car. You are not a Dragonball-Z warrior, so stop it with the puffy-pants/soft-shoe routine. You nasty. Uggs are only one step above Crocs and we all know Crocs are the epitome of everything that is wrong with our generation. As long as Crocs and Uggs are worn anyplace but Wal-Mart, I will advocate the death penalty for infraction offenders.

You make me sick.