On: Being a Good Little Slut

On: Being a Good Little Slut

I may or may not have misbehaved this past weekend… ūüėČ

Good morning

Good morning, Sunshine! Happy Saturday ūüėÄ

What are you up to?

Running errands and going to the eye doctor.

What’s wrong with your eyes?

I get new glasses. Woo hoo!

Oh, new glasses. Nice.
I was gonna see if you could come over for a quickie. lol

Darnit! I’m all the way across town.

Well, give me a shout on your way back. If I’m not working, you can stop by for a few.

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Fake

Fake

I’m surrounded by it!

Fake hair
Fake nails
Fake skin
Fake personalities…

And it’s all about money, money money!!!

Maybe if I had enough, I might be like all of them.

***OR***

I might choose to fucking share it or use it differently than on sheer vanity. But, I work with real estate agents, bankers and title companies. Apparently, to be employed or work in these fields, you must be 100% not real in any way at all.

It’s the status quo to drive a BMW or Audi or Range Rover or Mercedes and own your own, expensive home in a pretentiously¬†glamorous neighborhood. I drive a piece of shit (no offense, Breezy), rusty, old 1997 Plymouth Breeze with almost 200,000 miles and I rent a fucking 2 -bedroom apartment with a loft.

  • I don’t wear makeup, pretty much ever. There will be a special occasion now and again, but it’s a pain in the ass to put on, it gets on my clothes and clogs my already-oil-saturated face pores.
  • My hair is very, very grey – I figure why the hell should I even try? It would cost thousand$ to continually cover up what is fighting naturally to be there!
  • I can’t remember the last time I paid full price for an item of clothing: thrift stores are where it’s at!

Johnny¬†Id¬†posted this picture Wednesday as I was writing this… It made me laugh so hard because it fit so well with my¬†feelings¬†ūüôā Thanks, J-Man ‚̧

from EvilMilk
Complicated Grief?

Complicated Grief?

I took a short grief quiz online a couple of weeks ago because this Loserman¬†thing was¬†making me nuts! I wish I could just throw the lovey-dovey, mushy-gushy feelings away — or possibly donate them to someone who needs them more than I do…¬†But, today I feel closer to being¬†over it than I did when I took that quiz. So, that’s something, right?

Anyway. I ramble…

The results of the quiz¬†stated that I could be suffering from “complicated grief”.

I thought, WTF? Isn’t ALL grief complicated?

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