all.growns.up

Once upon a time many years ago someone tried to get me fired, so I stuck my finger up my butt and rubbed it all around the rim of his coffee mug when he wasn’t looking. Then I got him fired.

There was a fat little snot-nosed-know-it-all fuck who sat in front of me in the 3rd grade and I hated him because he always argued with everything and insisted he knew all of the answers all the time.

His name was Greg, and because of that stupid boy I have never gotten over my dislike for people who share his name.

Someday I’ll find my old yearbook and look him up on the internet and I’d be willing to bet that he still sucks ass.

I think its funny that Seasonal Affective Disorder is called S.A.D.

You can try as hard as you can to bring back all of this bohemian shit. Go ahead with your fringed suede and your gladiator sandles and your one little two little three little indian headbands. I think you look dumb.

Last night I was in the front row at Man Man when some drunk trust fund kid pushed and shoved me out of the way and tried to steal my spot. I’m all for every man for himself and all, but theres no reason to get so violent with it. That being said, he and I got into a verbal argument when I told him to chill the fuck out and he wouldn’t so I slapped him. I let him have his stupid spot and squished myself in next to him, then like 2 minutes later his glasses literally fell off his face and into my hands. Karma’s a bitch like that.

We walked home from Ft. Greene in the rain and today we woke up bruised and exhausted. I had Mister Softee at Coney Island and got my feet wet running from waves and the whole time all I could think about is how absolutely perfect life is right now.

I waited an hour. A FUCKING HOUR in line for the dressing room. I could see the line for the registers which took up half the store and looked twice as long, and it kindof made me hope that nothing fit right so I could just leave and get the whole thing over with.

Luckily, the people designing for Forever 21 not only have a penchant for really boring clothes made with plain solid colors, but also for making the most un-wearable cuts EVER. The shirts looked like boxes - I may as well have put a plastic grocery bag on and drawn some buttons on front. It would probably last longer then that crap anyway.

One of the dresses was a logistical nightmare and would neither unbutton nor unzip far enough to get over my head. Then it got stuck and I had to use some serious willpower not to just rip it off of me. I guess I should have opted for one of those sweet maternity-core dresses instead, since they’re like one size fits all or something.

An hour and a half after entering as a cheerful girl with money burning a hole in her pocket, I left an angry, sweaty tangled-hair mess. And I stole some sweet technicolor headbands as payment for making me spend over an hour of my life which I will never get back in that godawful fucking store in that horrendous fucking line listening to some lame techno CD which was turned up to 11 and skipping the entire time. See ya later alligator.