Instagram eats more dick than I do. 

I’ve had some thoughts loitering in the back of my brain about my current relationship-like experience, and its similarities to a past experience that was much worse, brain-wise.

So obviously, as further evidence of my iPhone’s forthcoming sentience, I went on Instagram and it was like, “Hey! You might know Past Experience!”

Fuck you, Instagram.

That’s OK, though — again, the beauty of getting over the much worse past experience is knowing that THIS experience, comparatively, ain’t shit.

Oh, cool, my trust issues got reinforced!

Because I have no impulse control, I sent a Facebook message that he saw an hour ago and didn’t answer, so… I guess that’s my answer. (Ahem…I may have also sent a follow-up. Also seen and unanswered.)

So I’m not being used for sex, but I DO trust people too easily and I AM a shit judge of character. Couldn’t even assemble the balls to be like, “Yeah, we’re done”?

Fine.

(For the record, I was right — hurts a little, but I know it’ll pass.)

The fastest way to a woman’s heart is to question her life choices.

My OkCupid profile says I’m an editor. Today I got this first message: “Hi there is there still a big demand for editors? I’d honestly like to know.”

Ahem.
editor

*finger guns*

That one’s free.

Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies…

I’m too old to be a Handmaid, but fingers crossed I get to be a Martha.

#PraiseBe

Texas Lawmakers Advance Bill That Would Allow Doctors to Lie to Pregnant Women
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Fuck You-tah

Oh, OK. My bad, men — I didn’t know you’d be affected. I’ll just go back to “the home,” where I prefer to be.

I love love LOVE “Mothers” with the capital “M.” That is just…MWAH, delicious.

(He has since apologized. I have since not given a fuck.)

Via Boing Boing’s Facebook page:

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