STOP THE PRESSES.

seriously because, low and behold: i have figured out what i am going to do with the rest of my life.

Now, i'm sure you're asking yourself "good, golly! what might that be" or you're probably thinking "well, frankly, i don't really give a fuck, diane" (well fuck you back, because this is my blog and my name is not diane, assholes.)

Back to the idea that you're actually caring just a little bit as to what i'm talking about and i'm sure you're asking yourself "teacher?" or "carpenter" (just like my baby J and his papa- my idols) but NO.

the fact of the matter is. my new dream. is to coach.
coach what you ask?
well coach little girls in beauty pageants, of course!

why?

because first of all, nothing makes me happier than the once in a lifetime opportunity to scream, rather, swear loudly at 4 year old girls (gotta get them when their young y'know. gotta build some, er. balls).

secondly. miniature flamboyant costumes and "shot in the face with a paint gun" makeup are the number 1 and 2 on my list of things my life would be incomplete without.

third. who else is going to choreograph age inappropriate dance routines? the raunchiest of songs by salt n' pepa will not whorify themselves and god knows those prostitoddlers don't know what the fuck they're doing when it comes to anything.

Finally. I want to inspire. not perspire. INspire.

so there you have it. I'm going to do it. I'm moving to the southern states. i'm gunna get meself a big bottle of Jack Daniels and IS ON!

"yeah, you can eat...WHEN YOU DON'T FUCK UP THE DANCE ROUTINE!!!!! now MOVE. Those toes better be bleeding or on fire when i get back from the saloon..."