I don’t know why Frank insisted on bringing me to this dinner party, I don’t even know what to talk about and everyone’s already having a conversation, it’d be awkward to butt in. A steakhouse? Really? I’m a pescetarian, Frank. We’ve known each other ten years. Nobody’s even bothered to comment on my coat or offered a tummy rub. Your friends are shit, Frank.
my favorite post of 2013
me at parties. with usually nothing to eat.
This old field jacket i’ve been wearing recently feels like a trench coat.
Am I the only person at work who doesn’t play with scratch tickets?
What a shame it must be to have to be in love with me. Every night and every day, it’s all the same. Every moment of our lives is like a knife into my heart.
I wish all of my shifts could be 1am-5am
That way I can go see all the shows I desire, go to work afterward on a satisfied mood and top it off with a nice walk home when nobody is up yet.
From this point on, my new title shall be: Mr. Pregnant.