faking it
Sorry, I'm not talking about bedroom stuff. I mean, you can talk about that if you really want to. But I meant this a bit more broadly.
Pretty much anytime someone I know lands a new book deal, after my initial feelings of being incredibly happy for them have abated, I think, “LESLEY WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU LESLEY WHY HAVEN’T YOU SOLD A SECOND BOOK YET LESLEY.” This is Erfolgtraurigkeit.
She may condition little girls to question their measurements, but I was more concerned with not having nipple-less breasts like hers.
When someone flakes out on me consistently, my shit gets sloppier than Nicholas Cage.
Just like my giant nose, thinking about how I “walk funny” isn’t typically in my train of day-to-day thoughts -- unless someone points it out.
ihtm contest
I’ve been seeking self-esteem, affection, and some semblance of a family structure through a polyamorous lifestyle.
THIS is the bullshit that’s been occupying my mind all damn day.