Last night, someone asked me how I thought people who’ve met me would describe me.
I said, “as a motherfucking rapper.”
I’ve really got to learn how to channel that more often.
Last night, someone asked me how I thought people who’ve met me would describe me.
I said, “as a motherfucking rapper.”
I’ve really got to learn how to channel that more often.
Insert terrible tangled up in red tape joke here.
My future roommate and I cemented where we’re living next year today. It’s really lovely, in a great location and the common space is wonderful. While we were walking around and roughly planning what we’d do with the place, the heels on my shoes kept clacking on the wood floor.
.
My Roommate: How do you just walk around in those?
Me: I’m so short I’ve gotten used to it out of necessity. And I used to dance, so I’m sort of accustomed to being on my toes.
My Roommate: Oh, it’s like me on my knees…
Mother: I was cleaning Jimmy’s room and I found a ton of bondage equipment and fetish magazines under his bed. I just don’t know what to do.
Father: Whatever you do, don’t spank him.
(Giggle. Just got told it by a friend.)