Sometimes, we’re just in pain. Sometimes, we just ache. Sometimes, there isn’t a bandaid to put on our gaping wounds. Sometimes, we just bleed.
So many questions, not enough answers…
For your enjoyment.
You will not believe your eyes, I swear to the pizza gods.
What if you’re Tom Cruise? What if nothing is funny? What if I’m just being paid by John Travolta?
At first, I thought it was the DUFF (designated unattractive fat friend) effect at work.
The question why inspires reverence.
When I hear females saying things along the lines of “I’m not friends with too many women because they’re too much drama,” I can’t help but cringe. After years of experiencing all kinds of female friendships both good and bad, I’ve asked myself the same question over and over again. Why do women hate each other?
The newest overpriced fitness craze for the aesthetically elite that has swept our urban areas, emptied the pockets of wannabes such as myself, and inspired an entirely new level of athletic-wear snobbery, is the Bar Method.
Getting woken up in the middle of the night to wipe shit out of another human’s ass crack might not be your definition of rock-bottom, but it’s mine.