Oh craigslist. It was the BEST (best) (yay) of times, it was the worst of times, even. I peruse this baby OBSESSIVELY for freelance writing gigs. I have come across some weird – WEIRD …
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craigslist writing gigs – the wow
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fruit flies (the musical)
Ewww/eeee/ughhhh/yow. People, these little Broadway Babies have INFILTRATED MY APARTMENT. Causes? Perhaps the abandoned, fermented banana bunch I once planned to make bread with – or my general kitchen apathy as of late – …
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sometimes I forget how to walk
Don’t you? It’s hard.
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Her heart moved with the Day
In the morning, it was optimistic, available, and in need of Eight Breakfasts. In the afternoon: slightly weary, busy, bored of walks to the bank. At night: it filled with blood and grew darker …
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DateAmillionaire.com!
That’s right, ladies. The makers of The Bachelor (probably), I’m a Slut and I want to be on TV, and everything bad Ever that is turning little girls into Gold Digging Whores bring you …
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butter lamb
I do alot of interior monologuing. I have a feeling that you do, too. A lot of my innerspeak is thoughts like: whoa. How STINKING crazy would it be if ( ………… ) happened. And …
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first dates forever
I want to die and come back to life. Why? So I can meet you again for the first time.
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Verbal Toast
I am a writer who enjoys the toast. Thank God someone invented this fine contraption, with which things can be printed ON toast, like: hello, the mouth. Or: For God so Love the World he …
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awesome
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eh.
I am $115,343 in debt and I would like a bubble bath, please. Meet me in the middle. Thank you for caring.