(no subject)
Sometimes, I am baffled why people make the choices they do. If given the choice between having one Mercedes-Benz or 15 Ford Pintos, what would you choose? What about one pair of Manolo Blahniks or 100 pairs of cheap-ass flip-flops? I realize these are superficial clothes and car-related analogies, but you get my point (and frankly, what other kind of analogies do I ever use?).
So, I just wonder why someone would choose to have many meaningless and stupid relationships when she knows there is one fabulous pair of Manolos out there that fit perfectly. But, who knows. The world is weird.
I keep having these dreams where I wake up completely pissed off. It's sort of funny. But it's not good to be starting off every morning in a piss poor mood.
And, in conclusion, the thing that makes me gag more than anything is band groupies and boys who fall for that shit. Ugh. No, you're not cute. You're not cool. Take the grommet belt, jelly bracelets, Adidas, and vintage tee and get on your merry way.
I sound like a bitter old hag. Maybe I am. I'm getting close to mid-20s after all.
Also, I realize that I own every item listed above except the grommet belt, but the only man I would ever be a groupie for is Justin Timberlake. And that would be for the sole purpose of getting in his pants, with no fantasies of us actually having any sort of meaningful connection outside of the boudoir.
So, I just wonder why someone would choose to have many meaningless and stupid relationships when she knows there is one fabulous pair of Manolos out there that fit perfectly. But, who knows. The world is weird.
I keep having these dreams where I wake up completely pissed off. It's sort of funny. But it's not good to be starting off every morning in a piss poor mood.
And, in conclusion, the thing that makes me gag more than anything is band groupies and boys who fall for that shit. Ugh. No, you're not cute. You're not cool. Take the grommet belt, jelly bracelets, Adidas, and vintage tee and get on your merry way.
I sound like a bitter old hag. Maybe I am. I'm getting close to mid-20s after all.
Also, I realize that I own every item listed above except the grommet belt, but the only man I would ever be a groupie for is Justin Timberlake. And that would be for the sole purpose of getting in his pants, with no fantasies of us actually having any sort of meaningful connection outside of the boudoir.