The more I know you, the less interesting you are.

Between the flooded streets and the two frisky little bastards following us around trying to take our picture, things were really confusing last night. It was wet, I was nauseated, it's past 12 am and the post rain wind was a bitch. It was only after I was safely squirming in pain from under the blanket that I feel God's trying to teach me a lesson for deep frying my ATM card. I made a promise that if it's not diarrhea I'd stop spending for 5 months straight.
But then again what's the whole fricken point of having a guilty pleasure when I can't do it?



From now on:

1. I will try everything, from smoking pot to joining PETA.
2. Stop swooning.
3. Stop spending for 5 months.
4. Take better care of my phone.


Oh and we watched Quarantine just now, throat sore from screaming, FUCKING RABIES!