Today was my last day of class EVER. I still have a paper to write, but everyone knows that won't be done till the day before its due. Obviously. Point is, the end of an era has come, which leaves me with considerable time on my hands. Clearly, the next logical step is to begin enacting all the hare-brained, far-fetched schemes that I have been dedicating my mental faculties to this year, rather than doing the academic work I ought to. World, this is your warning.
1. Steal a duckling.
This one ought to be fairly obvious, given that a previous list was solely dedicated to this act. But now is the time to put the newly minted Operation Quackerdoodle into effect. I really want one for a pet, we could go for walks and to the park, and to Subway. Ducks eat for free at Subway.
2. Conquer the world as a flair bar tender.
By flair bar tending, I of course mean watching the movie Cocktail over and over again and tossing bottles around in my dad's kitchen. I will then proceed to light stuff on fire, and filter martinis through ice sculptures. All this while wearing a mean dinosaur apron.
3. Obtain (entrap? entice? kidnap?) Jef from The Bachelorette for my very own.
Jef, you're all adorable and stuff. Be my boyfriend.
4. Develop an elaborate system of tunnels allowing Socks to travel to myriad locations.
Like to other people's alcohol cabinets. Or F.A.O. Schwartz.
5. Hire a publicist for the sole purpose of landing a guest spot on the Conan O'Brien show, where I will be that guest who is famous for nothing but tells super hilarious and quirky anecdotes and has bangs that look perfect and then gets lots of followers on Twitter or something.
6. Find the secret Super Villain store, or eBay and purchase a legitimate drawing board.
Wile E. Coyote had one, so clearly that shizz is real. ACME, hook me up.
7. Build a real time, full size version of the Angry Birds launching system. Use it to destroy Courtney Stodden.
And my growing list of nemeses. Eva Mendes, I'm looking at you.
8. Obtain enough pillows so as to create a nest. A nestibule, if you will.
My duckling and I can hang out in it and read stories and play Monopoly. Because ducks are very good with their pretend money, I'll have you know.
9. Purchase an island, declare myself its official Duchess and build a sheep pasture. And a duck pond. Wear a tiara like there's no tomorrow.
Seems the going rate these days is about $12,000 which leads me to believe that my student debt was put to rather poor use.
10. Build a tree house in order to update my lair. Migrate the trifecta, and use pigeons to do my bidding.
Bring in a mini fridge, with pre-wrapped bacon and tiny bottles of alcohol. Scheming effectiveness increases by 364% when alcohol is involved. SCIENCE.
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The Duchess Lists
HumorI confess, I'm a mid-twenties pseudo-adult with a short attention span and a penchant for self-deprecation. The following stories are real and no names have been changed to protect anyone because really this is just me struggling with adulthood whil...
