Can't sleep. It's totally Elle's fault. Or possibly mine ( Read more... )

HEY GUISE.

I JUST DROPPED MY PHONE IN A GLASS OF FUCKING SODA.

SODA.

I AM A SUCK.

Trying to explain the difference between a two-stroke and a four-stroke to a six year old is about as difficult as I would have envisioned it to be, but what I really want to know is ( Read more... )

I fucking hate myself sometimes ( Read more... )

I hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate funerals. 'Specially when I hafta sing at them, 'cause I'm almost always freaking crying and choking on my own fail and jeezus freaking christ I can't stand funerals ( Read more... )

MY FACE HURTS. I just smashed it into the wall.

On accident.

In addition, it's 5:40 and I haven't gone to sleep yet and I have to work at eight! Go Me!

Got freaking sniffed and molested by a creepy cowboy at a party last night. I danced with him, in the beginning, because he looked awkward and kind of scared, and then the DJ put on a fucking slow song four seconds after we stood up together, and of course the fucker can't dance, and of course he wants to look into my eyes as we stumble around ( Read more... )

Sooooo... Am now in possession of 1967 Lincoln Continental. Which, you know, BOAT, but what can you do. I thought I had weened myself since the Galaxie, but then Supernatural happened, and my mantra is something like, "They're not that bad. I've never been keen on precision steering anyway. And who needs to stop when anything you plow into will get ( Read more... )

You shmegma-brained limpdick; sad, saggy fuckface; maggot-humping spreader of venereal disease... YOU sir, are a twat.

^ Final insult texted to James. Stupid bastard. I mentioned that I had to pee once, last night, once, in a raging sea of bladderly-challenged drunk folk, and he proceeds to tell me all about how I should use those muscles more ' ( Read more... )

I just... Jen keeps insisting my brain doesn't have herpes, but I think she's lying 'cause she's prolly the one that gave it to me.