September 2011
Don’t think, don’t feel, only after the realization that all people are scum will I be truly enlightened
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I still have my sexy marching band calves let’s rub our calves together.
Wigs and metallic lipstick and chunky heels stomping it out on a cloud in my dreams
Since I moved to Philly and have had to walk everywhere my calves have gotten crazy strong and look amazing and you should be jealous. I just want to wear short-shorts and heels and show them off all the time.
Look who’s cryin’ now, boo-hoo-hoo
I was waiting on the bathroom key, and dude waiting on his bagel looked at me and said “your nipple keeps peeking out” and I said “yeah, I know. There’s also a huge hole in this shirt, but I was too tired this morning to care.” He looked at the hole, saw my treasure trail (I guess) and said “so you shave?”
Nope.
We were discussing Beyoncé, and they said “I have this theory that “Ego” is really about Beyoncé fucking Jay-Z with a strap-on”
They wants to profile me in the upcoming issue of their zine, which is apparently all about analyzing and dissecting masculinity.