I just finished all of my leftovers and I got everything I could ever want from friends and family because I am a massively spoiled brat. Christmas comedown is HARD though and I am feeling the Yuletide withdrawal. So I am going to Iceland. I don’t know when, or how, or, like, why exactly, but I am going to go to Iceland and it is going to change me.
This is why I will be going:
Are you kidding me with this underwater massage shit? These are what spontaneous orgasms are made of. With that, I welcome you to the BLUE LAGOON: A FANTASY THAT WILL NEVER LEAVE YOUR MIND EVER.
I have been obsessed the the Blue Lagoon GeoThermal Spa for an excruciatingly long time now. My favorite thing about this place, aside from the mellow vibes, is that I could waddle around naked all the time there. The two things in my life that really have always came naturally are waddling and getting naked. Thus, the only thing I will be wearing will be this:
You don’t wear many clothes to Blue Lagoon as far as I can see from the website, so you must accessorize. Wear this sexy gold whistle and you can pretend to be a lifeguard.
This one is perfect too:
Those little menacing spears dangling between your lady pillows are both sexy and dangerous. Slip into this massive raw stone ring and you are pretty much a wood nymph from "The Hobbit" that is secretly really good at blow jobs.
Ugh. Eventually though, you will have to put your clothes on to eat or something. I know, I know. I’m being a downer.
So, you slip into this essential sweater and you are still naked with that, "What do you MEAN? I just WOKE UP this way!” Marilyn on the beach mood and you let the shoulder of the sweater fall off just a bit and fucking SIRENS go off because you just set the Blue Lagoon on fire.
Not. Kidding. That move is a total go-to. It makes wieners bleed. I promise.
Pair these boots with the above sweater and now you have the perfect Truffula Tree look, minus the color obviously.
This is a fucking fur hat dude. You need it for this trip, obviously.
I was GOING to write something about yoga pants and how they make your ass look like two newborn babies hugging your butthole but then I woke up from my stupid "Someone loves me so I don't have to try anymore" dream and remembered that I still need to put my best foot forward. (Don't hate me too much in the comments for that one, I'm young and silly and stupid.)
Yes, I want to sit in a hot pool of warm Icelandic pee water, forget that the Internet exists and remember to focus on the breath. HOWEVER, looking like I don't own a mirror is not an option for me. I am vain. So even on vacations I want to look FAN-FUCKING-TASTIC. Sometimes that means just packing the one outfit you would be cool being seen in on your viral sex tape. TRYING TO LOOK GOOD IS THE NEW "WHATEVER." Sorry, I don't mean to drop my truth bombs so loud.
That is all I've got for today. I am going to go and take my sexy as hell work-at-home clothes and try to kick it with the coffee man down the street so I can, again, go back to doing my real job.