I wonder what kind of music Bukowski listened to.
Cruising around DC eating donuts with the windows down in 40 degree weather. May or may not be having a nervous breakdown.
She carried on without a comma.
i saw The Faces on the 2011 rock and roll hall of fame nominees. at first i was mad because, like, the faces?
but then i remembered a couple of summers ago i was going though some shit and couldnt sleep and couldnt eat and couldnt even be out in public for more than an hour without getting lightheaded because my heart hurt and i paced a lot and talked to myself a lot and hated myself a lot and one morning i woke up at 6am and was lying in bed and scrolling through blogs because i didnt sleep ever for two months and i clicked play on a .wmv and this song played and i got my ass out of bed and it made me sad and happy at the same time and wonder who came first these guys or rod* or are they the same or i dont even and i got nostalgic for something i couldnt and cant explain.
and i turned it up and i danced around my room until i was out of breath. and i avoided the mirrors that are my closet doors when i was dancing because i know what i look like when i dance and i know its not good but i danced anyway. and then i got back in bed and continued scrolling and bookmarked the song in my browser because i needed to remember it because something shifted that morning for three and a half minutes.
but then i forgot i had it bookmarked and havent thought about it for years until this morning when i got kinda wtf about the faces being nominated.
but im not wtf anymore about the nomination because i remembered as soon as i heard a mans voice and they basically saved my life at 6am on a saturday morning in virginia.
*totally rod.
<3 oh.my.gosh.
yall photo shopped the fuck out of this tiny little nigga (no homo) jesus christ
haaaaa. he looks like a Real Doll.
Things That Seem Like a Good Idea After Six Glasses of Wine:
- crafting an emotional email to someone you used to date about a song in a movie
- trimming your eyebrows, because they be all sorts of too long
- taking pictures of your new Birchbox score to show your mother…because LOOK AT ALL THE NEW SHIT I GOT
- painting your dominant hand’s finger nails red
- wearing a bandanna as a shirt and unloading the dishwasher
- feeling sexy while you’re wearing bandanna shirt
- taking picture of yourself wearing it
- uploading pictures of yourself wearing it
- feeling sexy about your decision to upload
- until you see your own nipples on facebook
- remove it and then want to die
I would like to know what kind of person DVRs this show. Everyone just walks around crying and scared and getting yelled at. There aren’t even any sweet hair cuts. Or hair styles. I don’t know what I’m talking about, I haven’t been to a salon in like a year.
Radiation song.
I wonder who is buying RePHresh tampons. Ya know?
Goldfish
Jeff and Barbara, my fair goldfish, are still alive. It’s been 9 months. Aren’t fair goldfish supposed to die on their way to your house? Like in their plastic bags? In the car? While your mom is driving?
You know what’s weird? Is that I swear they get excited when I get up to make coffee in the morning and when I get home from work. I swear they know that I’m in the room and swim towards the edge of the bowl. I’ve been promising I’d buy them snails for the past 6 months. I haven’t yet.
Contemplating life on a Thursday night, y’all.
