Me and Mom were sitting down at Ruby Tuesday's and we had just ordered food right? All of a sudden we both get these... feelings. Mini panic attacks. We're both freaking the fuck out and I go and tell the hostess that we have to just ordered food and have to leave because my brother just caught a BB to the face. That was a lie because he got it last night but we didn't want to pay for food that wasn't made yet and that we weren't gonna eat.
We leave the restaurant? And immediately start feeling better. Fucking creepy dude.
Dear Asshat at the T-Shirt store,
That's twenty bucks you ain't gettin'. Treat someone who wants to buy something from you like that one more time and see what happens.
The daughter of the bitch who told me she wanted to cut you (You're welcome).
About to post Calendar Days (Leap Year).
Wrote 1 and 2 of "Five people Sara didn't have wild, hot, monkey sex with."
I cannot fucking believe I'm writing het much less Sara het. See the fucking icon.
Dear Cab driver who only speaks Spanish,
Thank you for being the only person in Arizona who knows how to drive. And thank you very much for not plowing into the Cadillac full of stupid Mexican's who slammed on the breaks and just froze.
The shaky girl and the spazzy Mommy who gave you the shiny tip.
Mmphg. Hungry now dammit.