- firstly - i’m too lazy to do an actual 20-1 countdown when the formatting on tumblrs text post can automatically number 1-20 with a simple return stroke.
- "return stroke". Let’s think on that for a second. And now that I think about it, no, I didn’t masturbate yesterday.
- Been reading a lot about Today being solely setup for me to pursue, chase, acquire, possess, inhabit - peace.
- made up a song for counting down to the weekend. i’m pretty sure the song is going to have me in tears before the weekend. for reasons.
- i haven’t even resigned yet and i miss frankie. the one person from my job that i see regularly outside of work anyway. i miss.
- there’s this clearance form that requires approximately 10 signatures. the last two signatures are from my boss and HR. then i can resign. then i can get my last paycheck. my boss is holding that form until friday…i know she is.
- #7 was wayyyy to fucking specific for this countdown.
- i made famine noodles tonight. made famine noodles and took a ton of pictures of it. called it breakfast famine. cuz i put a boiled egg in it with chopped up bacon. i don’t feel like eating now because i’ve already taken 20 unposted pics of it.
- cell phone pics are for mirrors, topless dudes, bottomless girls, and food.
- fuck your entire phone pic collection.
- he sent me very significant flowers to my job today. might have to talk about today in a separate post. cuz they did a whole lot. not just him. but #12 is for him.
- it’s been 9 years since my last @work delivery of sunflowers.
- regarding #6 - i guess i should take this phone charger back to her house this weekend.
- sober. too much. too long.
- when i get home i meditate on this being my last week. it helps me face the next day even more.
- (#9) food still cold. like rubber now.
- the lyrics to the aforementioned song says “2 more days, 2 more days, 2 more days until the weekend is here. 2 more days 2 more days 2 more days until the weekend is here.” quite simple.
- anyone need dishes for $10? i got a ton of them.
- i hope i’m still the one…..
i like warm salad. well, not warm salad but like a warm meat in my salad…like a salad with warm chicken inside
Probably the best pic I’ve ever taken of my ace boon —- homie (cuz the other word is raysist)
we MUST find more alleys SOON.
- Frankie gives me life. Even when she’s wishing death on folk.
- these meds got my digestive system going through all kinds of ailments.
- maybe - just maybe - if i buy a pair of size 38 jeans and stand in the mirror with my cell phone, i can take a pretty sexy ass “after” shot.
- el derecho se acerca. let’s see if my ceiling will make it through the night.
- do i get a laptop with Windows 8 and relearn Windows or do I get a Macbook and learn Apple? Either way - there’s gonna be some learnin’ to do.
If typing in all caps is “yelling at someone”:
- Frankie and I scream at each other whenever we get sleepy at work.
- If this was real life we’d be deaf because not only is it all caps, but it’s size 72 font.
- can you imagine, calmly saying, “I’m sleepy” at the decibal of a firetruck?
- we wouldn’t get much nodding off done.
- bullets were completely unnecessary for this.
Girl. I mentally shat an orgasm reading that. HOW THE FUCK DO YOU SHIT AN ORGASM? BLUEBERRY FUCKING CHEESECAKE FUCKING MUFFINS. THAT’S HOW.
—Quill (via franksandbeanz)
I haven’t had a really good drinking night [with Frankie] in soo long. I miss Upper Marlboro. I miss Delveckio. I miss breaking my neck to watch ESPN shit that I wasn’t interested in. And making friends. And trying my best to make sure I was blinking correctly and not being drunk wit it.
And Dashawn. And salad bars. And taking turns pissing behind the AFRO Newspaper building…because we wouldn’t make it to the Safeway. And when we would make it to the safeway, we’d have conversations about penis size and without realizing, using merchandise in the baby aisle to demonstrate.
And leaving our barstools to go straight to the Catholic church at the corner of 29th and Charles and praying on the steps for 7 miracles, the KONY children, and for our jobs to adjust our pay to match how much weight we gained and couldn’t lose.
And watching Wipeout while doing shots of everything. And waking up the next day, going to work, and using our cell phones to recall the events of the previous night.
I miss good, clean, wholesome, “Yes I’m judging everyone else for being sober”, fuckery. It should happen soon. And with no one except mi loca Preciosa.
I was in jail when Rainbow’s daughter got killed.
—Guy on York Road
Ms. Syphilis if you're nasty...
- Frankie: I wonder if Phyllis is short for Syphilis.
- Me: Oh god.... her girlfriends call her Phyllis and Syph Syph.
- Frankie: Syph Syph, Ms. Syphilis, if you're nasty O_O
- Comment/convo bombing a friend's facebook wall. The original status message was about the weather.
You ever change your mind in the middle of swallowing something?
(especially on Sundays)
Me: My boss is asking me to put a query together. I’ve never done it!!! He said to use my notes from the meeting we had 2 months ago.
Quill (co-worker): That long arm’d short hair’d woman you drew ain’t gon’ have shit to tell you.
My notes from that meeting:
Currently Celebrating my 4th Annual 25th Birthday.
(ins. by Frankie, apple, clarks, and shit)