I'm the kind of girl people call mom

It is bloody fucking hot in this city, a hundred and four to be exact. I want a popsicle and a long bath.

Kristen and I watched girls gone wild last night. Seriously amazing cinematography, I also love imaging the career paths the barely eighteen women chose to pursue.

Tori’s coming to town, I can’t help but call her Whorie Tori and I can only imagine what sort of debaucherus mischief she will get us in to, mainly pertaining to middle aged men.

I clean our room the other day (you’re welcome Kristen) and under our bed, which has not been moved since the previous tenant left, (who I might add is a conniving slut bag) I found roaches and lube as well as a plethora of fuzzy little things from the inside of down comforters. Reason to hate her more.

Stacey’s parents are allowing us to spend two glorious weeks in their sprawling, roach free, stocked spice cabinet, luxurious bathroom and free laundry apartment. We also get to play with boi who may in fact be the best damn cat in existence.

On a side note I spent Thursday night in the emergency room with a raging migraine, but the gave me some amazing drugs and Kristen and I cuddled on the paper covered gurney.

New York, I don’t hate you, I just wish you were nicer sometimes.

I looked at the live journal I had from when I was 14 and I hope no one ever stumbles upon it. It’s embarrassing to say the least.

I just said goodbye to jenna hunter this morning, with her pig tails and cowboy hat. We spent last night dressed up in pretty dresses drinking forty’s- she confided in me that if asked to choose she would pick cheese over oral sex.

I have no food in my apartment, or toilet paper, or clean laundry. I do however have a surplus of nats and roaches. I fucking love New York.