Do not be fooled, I am not that cute in person. I actually resemble a potato. My selfie game is just hella strong.
I use a large cylindrical Tupperware as a drinking glass, because I’m too lazy to make trips downstairs to refill.
I’ve locked myself in a cocoon of blankets inside my room, surviving off of chicken strips, macaroni and the top layer of someone else’s wedding cake (don’t ask). I think I’ve hit social reclusion.
(Hisses as roommate opens my bedroom door to see if I’m still alive)
My immediate reaction when I hear the doorbell: “shit…what did I do wrong?! Hide!!!”
Lame Confession: I pretend I’m in a commercial when I perform mundane tasks. (e.g. feeding my cats, mowing the lawn, watching a marathon of West Wing on Netflix)
I will pretty much imagine a faux relationship in my head with almost anyone that leaves an ask in my inbox.
I’m pretty sure my followers are unaware of my (or my blogs) existence
…and I’m curious as to why I have any?…I’ve decided it’s probably pity.
There should really be a block on my Tumblr for when I’m drunk.
It’s dangerous for me to drink and blog.
Not sure if ironic or pathetic…
I’m reading ‘Dry’, a memoir by Augusten Burroughs about alcoholism recovery for a guy working in advertising. I’m doing this while drinking a beer in the middle of the day and simultaneously finishing some advertising work for my internship. This is either a sign that I should put down the beer…OR order another!