I’m only able to consistently tolerate, like, 3-4 people. In total. None of them are family members. Two of them are dogs.
Deception is beyond being just a bad habit––it’s a psychological conundrum.
The friend zone is fine. I’m really comfortable here. I’m not overthinking everything and I definitely don’t resent you because I’m really into you and you don’t feel the same way. This is totally fine with me (it’s not, just date me).
Any ‘Lord of the Rings’ movie: Elijah Wood carries a ring around New Zealand and a bunch of elves and wizards try to fight him. Somehow Martin Freeman is involved and I feel like he doesn’t wear shoes throughout the movie, so I want nothing to do with it.
There is an age at which you no longer can binge drink vodka out of a plastic handle without suffering the most soul-crushing hangover of your life, and that age is approximately two weeks after you turn 22.
Apologized to my diary, an inanimate notebook, about how bad I’ve been about writing in it regularly.
The King of the Red Wines, Cabernet Sauvignon is bold and strong—which is why it’s perfect for cleansing your palate when you feel the bile building up upon realizing that Jason met his new girlfriend on Bumble.
Drunk arguments. Becoming a foodie. Passive-aggression.
I feel things. Like, really feel them. I am constantly feeling. If someone is crying in front of me, I cry harder and louder. I am always crying—metaphorically and literally. My soul is so, so old.
Wesley, 2.5/5 stars. Why he doesn’t have 0/5 stars: He put four of his business cards in the fishbowl to win a free happy hour and promised you were invited if he won.