I need to find a new spot in Grand Rapids that serves poutine. The lady that took in my phone order recognized my voice and the fact that I sometimes require poutine multiple times a week is not information I’m comfortable with anyone* knowing.
*anyone: Any person in real life that I have to make eye contact with and pretend that I am not a disgusting animal.
Did these wrestlers get their shorts at Forever 21? I’m too high for this!
Yesterday I found out that my secret enemy is moving away and today I found out that two of Oliver’s enemies are moving away (suck it butters & chief).
Have developed an affection for the beagle down the street. Also, his pig friend, Ramon.
Don’t eat spaghetti at your stove at 3:00am. You’ll get heartburn.
I’m still reeling from Young and in the Way’s set at Don’t Call this a Fest in Detroit yesterday. I don’t think I can adequately describe the experience as I was entombed in the most evil crusty black metal while a horror show unfolded before my eyes. The only thing that may have snapped me out of it would have been being doused in cold pigs blood, but in his Satanic fervor, Kable Lyall accidentally knocked his personal jar of pigs blood over during the second song, which quickly left a giant crimson stain on the stage.
PS: They were scary as hell.
I could watch Serial Mom and Goodfellas 100 times.
After a minor medical scare with Oliver the other day, I realized that he is probably my only horcrux.