I am so Mistress of the Underworld material.
All those other chicks got nothing on me. And really, don't you sort of, like, owe me? Look at all the shit I do for you!
There was that suspension bondage thing with all those pictures (I never even told you that I had a cramp in my hip that entire time) and, okay, my license plate might not be a true vanity plate, but EH39SP does stand for "Erin has 39 sexy panties," and that is plenty vain right there.
I think we can both agree I've got the gluttony thing down. An entire bag of Chex Mix, three slices of garlic pizza, the Tagalongs and five Bud Lights in one night ought to count for something.
(shit. I can never remember all seven of them)
Oh yeah. Greed.
I'm totally greedy. Shoes. Shoes shoes shoes. Can never have enough shoes. Just spent $27.50 (on clearence at TJ Maxx, full retail $175) for a pair of stilleto patent leather boots that SO go with these horns.
And what the eff have you done for me lately?
The motorcycle guy with the leather pants (John from Pittsburgh? Albany?) was good, I'll grant you that. But, baby, that was nearly 20 years ago!
I make one hell of a cup of coffee. And a great chocolate decadence cake. People shit straight up their backs for my deviled eggs.
Need another reason? Just look at my effing eyebrows! Now those are eyebrows, not some plucked anorexic commas stuck on my forehead.
Listen Satan, all I'm trying to say is this. I have got it all going on, baby. Sure, I could have a go with JC, but he's binging, man. I don't know what is up over there. He's got no time for me. But you and me, baby? We could make something FLY. So ditch those other broads. Pick me as Mistress of the Underworld.
What do you say, baby?