Hi friends on the internet,
I wrote this piece below last night when I was drunk and literally don’t remember doing it. I unlocked my phone this morning and there it was. Not even one spelling mistake either. I was obviously in a deep internet black hole and realized that I hated everyone there.
I must say, I am infinitely better at writing when pissed. So here it is….
Omg I have so learnt to love the skin I am in because I am so insecure that my instagram only consists of half naked pictures of me but I have totally learnt to love my body even though I’m super photogenic and I definitely know it. I’m a part time full time model but I’ve just learnt to love myself but don’t forget to like my new post and check out my page because even though I’ve now got to the point that I’m super comfortable with my already perfect body I need validation from strangers on the internet to remind me that I’m better than everyone else. Validate me! Please and thank you! It would mean the world to me if you liked and commented on my photos! It gets me nowhere because afterall, everyone thinks I’m hot but I’m a total cunt. As long as I’m hot though right? Lol.
Has anyone ever held on to anything longer than Hulk Hogan has held on to having a handle bar moustache?
I have a habit of listening to love songs in the car imagining that I am the girl the boys are singing about until I get home and realise the only song about me is absolutely none of them.
Does anyone else have that one mole hair that most of the time is non existent then overnight it gets like 15 feet long?
Don’t ever contemplate too long about how the ‘designers’ of the fabric used for the seats on the tube had a brief which went something along the lines of…. design a pattern that disguises millions of people’s ass filth and will stand the test of time yet represent the city we live in.
The real estate agent letting the flat I’m in brought a whole group of people over to view it tonight because I am moving out soon, of which I forgot was happening. So a key goes in the door, 7 people swiftly walk in and there I am, lying on the couch watching prison documentaries in my undies and a shitty old singlet with no bra on eating dinner off a plate that is resting on my chest spooning it into my mouth so I didn’t have to lift my head too far off the cushion.
I emailed the agent to apologize.
He hasn’t replied….
Today on the tube my entire bun of hair got caught in the doors from one stop to the next, which is only a few minutes but my hair’s whole life went flashing before my eyes and I was mentally preparing to be scalped as the train jerked around on the tracks, I stayed awkwardly glued to the doors, pretending that absolutely nothing was wrong, just hoping I come out unscathed. Thankfully my life and my hair was spared, but the same can not be said for my social anxiety.