i have the cape. i make the fucking whoosh noises!

b.l.o.g.

fuck mah life!

right off the bat, sick as shit
running late like a motherfuck for the boy’s touch-up appointment
can’t find my damn skirt, tear apart the fucking bedroom
the car is DEAD AS SHIT! when we get downstairs, commence freakout
$60 out the ass just to get a jump (but seriously, thank christ for chevy roadside)
freaking out about further car problems, perhaps
nothing productive accomplished

seriously? why did i fucking bother with today…

comments : nada mucho
mine:

nada mucho »

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