Oct 23, 2012
There are some days that I treat my stomach like the child it is.
my stomach: I’m huuunnngry. me: Shut the fuck up. I don’t have time to deal with you right now. stomach: But I need to eat something. It’s not healthy to not eat. You know what your mother would… me: Fine. Eat these fucking gross carrots; they’re going to go bad anyway. And please try to contain your excitement; I really don’t need another mess to clean up. stomach: :-( me: And like it, otherwise I’ll go out for a smoke. I know how much you love that.