This blog is essentially a love letter to myself.
Please note that none of the content featured on this blog belongs to me unless explicitly stated.
- kissing each other good morning even though your breath smells like a landfill
- accepting that (s)he dances a bit like a ‘mo
- the act of tweezing
- making plans for the distant future without fear or hesitation
- laughing at their lame indiscernible accents
- finding yourself making…
This still rings so true. Single or not, love is what it is.
In the whole entire world, you are the only person, the only person I love or have ever loved. And I love you terribly. Terribly. That’s what’s so awfully, irreducibly real. I can make up anything but I can’t dream that away.
It’s the so-called “normal” guys who always let you down. Sickos never scare me. Least they’re committed.
tim meeting the parents.
me: look at me and my mother and then check out how awkward you and yah are.
tim: well, i didn’t come outta his uterus.
I’m not desperate so if you really want this you best come correct ’cause I spell woman Z-I-Z-E-S. And I need to be wooed. You understand me? Wooed.
|Brittany, as your loving, caring, honest brother I feel the need to tell you... your boyfriend looks like a bum.|
|what're they putting in the water in dublin these days? sure as hell isn't decorum. looking like a bum is one thing, but being one is another. quit chugging all that haterade and focus on your homework, kiddo.|
|I love how we're such close friends that I can run around with boogers in my nose and you don't even notice.|
|Actually, I just haven't put my contacts in yet.|