Eggs as a metaphor for success.

As has been previously mentioned, I can’t even cook an egg. A couple of days ago I managed to burn the underside of my eggs. In my life, I have only ever made good eggs twice, and both times the eggs were not meant to be consumed by me. Maybe at some point in my life, someone cursed me to always make bad eggs, or I just can’t cook.

If I am not cursed the fact that I can’t even make an egg does not bode well for my overall intelligence/exam results. So I am just going to hope I am cursed.

Also in my life, I bored so consumed a pitcher of cocktail while watching Eurovision (Sex on the beach is the manliest of cocktails followed by WOO WOO). As a result of intense procrastination, I am now sleeping from 7am-4pm daily for no apparent reason, which does not bode well for my 9:30am exam in a couple of days. This exam has far fewer fun facts than the last exam as well. In that exam, I wrote about Louis XVI’s Phimosis (don’t google it, I made that mistake). As well as his wife’s wonderful fashion. She once  had her hair made into a giant ship upon her head and threw wonderful parties. She probably couldn’t cook an egg either.


Just look at her attitude, you’ll never be as cool as this women. Although she was beheaded because of it…




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