This site started as a glorified album for really craptastic and hilarious dating profile pics (I are mean), and now I’m ready for this to devolve into something else. It’s warmer out, and I’m thirstier and drunker and full of thoughts. Deep, important ones. Especially just now, because I woke up drunk. Will it be sad if I still do that in my 50’s—I will definitely be drunk in my 40’s—or will it be fabulous? In my mind it’s fabulous; maybe that’s sad. Or…is it FABULOUS?!?
Anyway, I just wanted to say that waking up in bed fully clothed with mascara face and afro melt, needing to order pizza and/or puke, made me super fucking grateful that I failed at getting laid last night.
It occurred to me that perhaps it would be nice to have had a special someone in my life that would lock my apartment door against would-be rapists, pick my boot up from the living room floor, pick my other boot up from under the bed, pour me a tall glass of water, and turn me on my side so I don’t choke on my own vomit and die…but mostly I’m convinced I just need a butler. A booze butler.
Booze Butler would have used a makeup removing wipe on me. Booze Butler would have called Pizza and brought Him to my mouth while I was lying down.
Butler > Boyfriend