The Other One

Once you realize that you can no longer establish what was once on the plate.

"Is that old ravioli, or was that fish?

 Please calm down. No one hates you and I'm really getting tired of you asking if we do.

Alright, so maybe this might make me seem like a bit of a stalker, but at this point that doesn't matter.
On some website with his picture, were the links to both his twitter and tumblr pages. The follow button burned with the white hot speed from which I clicked.

I just have one question to ask: Who blessed this boy?





Good lord.

And I was sad up until 2 minutes ago because a boy didn't like me. I can't even be mad anymore because the boy most definitely does not look like this one...

In in celebrity cyber-stalker love.

This stuff, whatever it is that I'm taking, makes me feel rather funny. I'm supposed to have one before dinner and then eat like normal, but it makes this black hole of my insides. Suddenly, it's impossible for me to taste this once-delicious Asian chicken.

And I can't think of anything more disappointing than the prospect of me not being able to taste my asian chicken.
Well, maybe I can. Not being able to taste my baked ziti... *gasp*

Banish the thought!

This is is the biggest sandbox I have ever seen in my life.

And I'm a grown ass woman.

This is the biggest slide I have ever seen in my life.

And I'm a grown ass woman.