Favstar gets even better if you sign in.
I dunno, maybe Skee-lo shoulda wished for another hit?
The subtext of my polite & composed hellos to attractive men is "May I please have sex inside you?"
Your sex is deffo worth my gas, but your personality isn't worth my time.
I know if I could clean up this pile of laundry on my floor, I could get my life together too.
*leaves room & continues to drink forever*
Those songs that remind me I'm still hurting and still not over you.
The only thing that seems to emerge from my cocoon of blankets is an angry bitch.
Gawd, nosey bitches be all like, "What do you do? What's your name? Why are you on my street at 5am?"
Fun fact: texting or writing "I miss you" to someone buys you like 2 more years of never talking to or seeing the person.
He's gonna be all the things you never were.
But he's still not you...
I'm usually a mess but I know how to sweep myself under the rug before company comes.
Feeling all gay & stupid over someone--wanting to do cartwheels & shit like that, but continuing to sit on your ass cos old and fragile.
That one special person who makes you feel like a supermodel.
The pretty kind, not the coked up "gurl, you need help" kind.
It's when I thought I spotted Whoopi Goldberg and it turned out to be not Whoopi Goldberg is when I realized my day had no meaning.
The kind of making out that lasts for hours and makes your blood boil with passion.
I can't seem to keep from spilling things on my couches or getting my life together.
I wear my sunglasses at night.
Mostly cos I'm still crying over you.
An international man of mystery with a constant yearning to boogie down.