What’s Your Spirit Animal?
I’m about to move cross-country to start a new job in like, oh, three weeks. I haven’t started packing yet, and whenever I linger too long on the thought of my upcoming journey, I go into some sort of weird, nervous coma and have to lay down and take a nap. One thing I have decided is that I need some sort of hat or piece of jewelry that will be my talisman for strength and the absence of rapes, flat tires, and expensive hotel rooms on my trip. Naturally, this further led to me just taking the next step and attempting to figure out what my spirit animal is. I got three-week old puppy. What did you get?
Oh, I should point out that it’s really important to follow this lady’s instructions exactly. So go ahead and get drunk and take all your teeth out, and then mush some fairies onto your webcam before you start.
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There’s the kind you have in the morning with sleep in your eyes and lust in your veins.
Will we eventually sink into the molasses of romantic stability?
Looking back over my past 27 years on the planet, the happiest times for me have always involved a spicy, unrequited crush somewhere in the mix.
I would rather jump around and sweat my body to a Lady Gaga song. Yoga is so overrated.