Elyse starts a blog

Hello. My name is Elyse. I am going to do stuff and you’re going to love it.

 Today, I did a lot of stuff. I went on a jog, saw this:

 And I got a blister! Score!

I also clipped my toenails, look!:

And they smell like the kind of cheese I can’t afford. Ironic? No. That is not even close to the definition of the word ironic. I am not Alanis Morissette. I don’t just make up the meaning to a word and then write a song about it and confuse people. But, if I were Alanis Morissette, I would have slept with Ryan Reynolds, been slimed on “You Can’t Do That on Television,” be Canadian, gone down on Dave Coulier in a thea-ter, married some guy named Souleye (my pet name for my butthole), have ten thousand spoons, need a knife, and this blog would be called “Alanis does stuff” and it’s not.

 Ironic?

No. But, here’s a picture of a poodle:

And another one:

And another one:

It’s not what you’d expect from poodles, is it? But angry, murderous, and near-sighted poodles are not ironic either. That’s just me messing with your expectations and being a jackass. And me calling myself a Jackass would be only be ironic if my name were Jenny, because that’s apparently the female equivalent of a male donkey. And my name’s not Jenny. It’s Elyse. And I’m going to do stuff SO HARD.

This blog will get better. I promise.