my schedule now consists of: work, eat, watch tv, and sleep, in that order, every day. i don't dread going to work; i see it as an obligation, a fact of life. life suddenly became boring and monotonous, aching for a little snap-into-a-slim-jim-esque excitement.
a friend and i are in desperate need of a bar where we can become regulars and one day order "the usual." working has the amazing ability to drive one to alcoholism, apparently. am i the only one in this swiftly sinking boat? certainly not because while i was a new bar, an older couple walked in, greeted every bartender by name, and actually ordered "the usual." awesome.
you can get a free beer by shifting over one seat to make room for two people. i was going to do it anyway, but the bartender beat me to the punch and offered a round on the house. how can you resist a free beer? newsflash, buddy: you can't!
where are all of the young people in dallas/ft. worth? i don't want to drive up the highway 30 minutes just to hang out with college undergrads in skeezy joints.
these shoes were $50 last week; now they're $91. what the crap is that?
This is a personal website for a (nearly) 25 year-old femme fatale who breathes, works, and plays in Texas. Most of what one may find here are crafty vignettes ripped from the headlines of her life. She also has an odd fascination with ninjas—the black-masked killing machines, not the two-wheeled crotch-rockets. Those are dumb. Intrigued? Read more.