I feel fine enough, I guess, considering everything’s a mess
I can’t shake this feeling that this is the end of something. It isn’t fun anymore. Not any of it.
- Girl in class: I really hate it when people make jokes about the hurricane! It's so insensitive!
- Me: Yeah, that blows.
- Me: ...shit.
Do you think we’ll ever know what boobs look like in space?
Sitting here, drunk out of my balls, thinking to myself, “I wonder what my cat would say to me if he could talk.” Then it occurs to me… He’d say, “Feed me, asshole! You got drunk and forgot to feed me!”
Fuck, man… Did I just have a drunken imaginary conversation with my cat? I think… I think drinking turns me into an animal psychic! I’m the fucking cat whisperer, bitch!
This gift is my curse for now.