I Miss You, Do You Miss Me?
I can’t take it anymore! I miss you hoodrats! While I am still eating fake food in the sunshine state trying to radiate my skin but successfully failing, I have to come out of this blogcoma. Why? Because I feel my creative juices being hindered by the exhausting amount of estrogen in my presence. I’m not sure if you know this, fellow repellows, but I have three brothers. Count them, three. And a rare occasion it is that all four of us are under one single roof, co-existing like it’s the ’90s.
Ultimately, this should explain why oh why oh why and why I am fit for the role (the Man Repeller role, that is). One time when I was 17 my oldest brother told me he was ashamed that I was his sister because I was so fat compared to all his friends’ sisters. So I ate apples for a year. That were covered in chocolate pudding! One time, my other brother told me I looked like a tuna fish cow. What is a tuna fish cow? I don’t know. And finally, one more time, my other brother shrieked and took a double take as he told me I looked like a lowbrow linebacker (I was wearing a rad Rag & Bone blazer.) And so I started a blog. A blog, I tell ya! This one!
Now, I have nothing important to tell you but for those of you not following me on Instagram (I hold no predisposed prejudices against non iPhone users) or Tumblr, here are a few photos that tell about my trip.
Also, my bees knees are burnt so stay tuned for a sweet Instagram manipulated photo of that too.
I love you. So long.