my trust is hard-earned. but always conquered by actions. never words.

the trick isn’t trying to keep yourself from being broken. it’s understanding that your cracks are beautiful.

listen, forget about my boobs. what i'd really like lifted and separated are religion and politics.

i just heard someone a few rows over mention second breakfast and elevenses. please excuse me while i hunt them down so we can make out.

i love it when two sins come together.

i'm only easy when you're hard.

i need a sippy cup. not 'cause i have a drinking problem. just wanna bring my whiskey into the shower. so, 'cause i have a drinking problem.

i am bi-furious.

i am finally allowed a small, intimate moment with my coffee. i’ll refrain from using the words “cupping” & “blowing.” we’re not there, yet.

i fucklove mating two words together and making a whole new one.

i caked, i came, i coma'd.

okay, people, i'm home now and have access to my alcohol. stand down. STAND DOWN.

...actually, could someone stand up and get me some ice?

STOP BEING SO INTERESTING OR I'LL NEVER GET MY CLOTHES BACK ON AND THE RESULTING LACK OF BOOZE WILL FORCE ME TO DRINK YOUR SOULS INSTEAD.

if you don't know where you stand with someone, walk away. because if they haven’t already told you, that's not where you should be anyway.

in the past year i’ve been flikd, facebooked, klouted, kiked, dropboxed, tumbld, pinned and tagged. no wonder my soul feels so damn bruised.

if you have to ask yourself if it's time to let go, the answer is always going to be yes.

there are moments, terrifying bursting moments when a song shows itself to you for the first time, shows yourself to yourself scraped clean.

i've never cared for how much i've cared.

it’s 95 degrees outside and 55 degrees inside and i have to keep going back and forth between buildings and my nipples have simply given up.

didn't turn my computer on all weekend. i’m surprised by how easy it was. possibly related: i've developed strange tremors & an eye twitch.