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I'm tired of drooling, lethargic loser boys with throat tattoos and fitted hats approaching me at work, with "Like, where do you get your ink done...? Shit's tight."
I DOUBT IT. Then, they find me on myspace and add me. WHO DOES THAT. Gross. I should just start posting pictures of these clowns with their really perfect quotes.
FTW. Tymm, stop being in my favorite place to eat in Chicago and hit the icy roads already. Six hours until you're in our bed again.
I think I broke my toe kicking a can at work. Imagine that. Oh, fuck my life.
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