sure, why not?

Current status: testing out my AWESOME new mini speaker by dancing around my living room to the Spice Girls and N*Sync and generally freaking my cat right the fuck out.

I’m pretty sure these Welch’s Fruit Snacks are expired and I’m pretty sure I shouldn’t be eating them but whatevs YOLO.

Johnny Cash + quaaludes x detachment = the lead singer of The National’s voice.

I used to be able to make my insomnia work for me but these days I am insomnia’s bitch.

I think I’m going to change Franklin’s name to Gollum for the following reasons:

• Sometimes he’s really sweet, and then a split second later he’s an evil nutjob.
• He never ever ever stops whining and his voice is high-pitched and raspy.
• When I have a late-night snack in the kitchen, he climbs all over the counters and the fridge in a desperate attempt to get at my precious hummus.
• He tries to kill me in my sleep.

I will seriously kill my cat if he doesn’t stop whining. The only reason he’s whining is so I will come pick him up and hold him for a few seconds until he decides to start attacking my arm and I am just not in the mood for that shit.

Like clockwork, as soon as Franklin gets calmed down and settled on the couch, I inevitably have to go to the bathroom and he spends the next hour or so being a mischievous, whiny asshole. It’s almost Pavlovian.

If I ever win an Oscar I want to remember to thank the babysitter I had when I was 8 who introduced me to the concept of a tablespoon of peanut butter as a snack. I don’t remember her name, but she was a goddamn hero.