“How could this happen to me! I’m a good person!”

“Obviously you’re not,” I shrugged.

“What?!”

“Good peoples’ cars don’t break down, and they don’t get the flu, and their banks cards are never eaten by ATM machines. Clearly, you’re a terrible person.”

“You know I fucking hate you right now, right?”

“Maybe if you didn’t use such bad language, your car would still be running.”

And no, we’re not actually friends anymore. 🙂

I’m trying to decide what to do with a pair of shoes that aren’t quite working. They fit and are comfortable, but the colour is off. I bought them thinking they’d be tan and kind of caramelly, but after a year of never wearing them I see that they’re not tan enough and make my feet look kind of green. I could sell them, except I’m not sure anyone wants this colour. So I’m thinking about attacking them with a Sharpie and making them more of an art project.

I’m not sure if I have a white Sharpie but I do have some metallic pens that would do the trick. I suppose I could just go over them with a gold metallic.

The Princess prefers the left, as the blue is too boring to his eye. I like the faux stitching, but I think my preference is for one of the first two.

Sarah had doubts about how breakfast cereal could save her marriage, but Ann swore by it, so it seemed worth a try.

Bitches be stealin’ my clothes!

I like for the ladies to be built pretty much like I am, about my height, about my frame. I also like when girls are into fashion and style. Put these two things together and you wind up with the opportunity to double your wardrobe just by dating! Sounds great, right? Lesbian!

How can this possibly be a negative?

Because every single person who I have ever lent an item of clothing to, has looked better in that that item of clothing than I did!!! Every single time! This is okay if the person I’ve lent something to is going out with a group that I’m not a part of, but if they go out with people I know, then I can never wear that item with those people again! Sounds paranoid? Well fuck you.

The problem of course, is boobs. So long as the item fits, boobs make everything better: sweaters, blazers, blouses, even skirts and pants somehow. And everybody I know has bigger boobs than I do, which means they instantly look better in everything of mine that fits them. I could of course simply refrain from being with women who have bigger boobs than me, except, well, that sounds really depressing.

The Princess will have to do for me – his boobs may be bigger than mine, but he never wears my clothes. At least not in public.