I hear birds out of my living room window. thanks for giving me a place to land and seriously being the definition of unconditional love.
i'm currently watching true life: i hate my small boobs while eating a grapefruit the size of my head and typing up my writing final portfolio. I love saturdays. This show is really fucking annoying. small boobs? seriously? is that you're only problem? i just want to take these girls and shake them to shit. one's crying because she doesnt have cleavage. I definitely have my flaws, i'm impatient, i'm quick to cut people off, i basically do everything too quickly because i've had my share of shitty humans, i mean i've never been broken up with, ever, because the moment i sniff out some sort of disloyalty, shift in character, or inconsistency in a person, I need to check out. Nothing drives me more crazy than someone that is inconsistent, when someone is inconsistent it translates to untrustworthiness. Maybe I should be on True Life: I only have 4 friends because I have crazy stability issues.
In other news, mother fuckers are walking around nyc with fucking surgical masks and i want to punch them in the face. what pussies.
I also didn't mention in here that I recently interviewed a stripper at a Time's Square strip club for a paper for my sex and nation building class. It was a horrible, depressing experience. All of the girls were so strange and the men there are fucking awful and I don't know why i went in there expecting to see it not be so bad. After a 25 minute interview in the "champagne" room on a velvet chair with a half naked girl named "alia", she says to me "do you wanna dance? do you have daddy issues like the rest of us?" She makes 5 grand for sleeping with a guy and 1,000 bucks for a blow job. everything about that place was awful and i cried on the train ride home.