This amuses me more than it should…
Dude wrote me back within 24 hours this time, accepting my offer of “naked or otherwise” friendship, because duh. (“We’ll have to have a discussion next time we hang out.” Mm hmm, ‘kay…)
But because I’d deleted him from Facebook, my phone displayed his message once, then sent it to some “other messages” Facebook purgatory that, as far as I know, I can only access on a computer, and…fuck it, I’ve had a long week, and starting up a laptop AND a browser feels like a lot of effort for a dude tryna tell me I’m clingy.
Talk Monday, shitheel.
^^^ This should all end well, right…?
We’re not even dating in any official capacity, but I still wanna know who this bitch is posting on his Facebook, and why, EXACTLY, she knows his cat’s name.
(I may or may not be hormonal.)
(I also may or may not think she’s cuter than me and wonder why he’s not dating her instead.)
(Shut UP, I’m already IN therapy.)
When I first saw today’s headlines giving Kellyanne Conway shit for having her feet on a couch, I thought, “Goddamn, don’t we have more pressing things to fret about? Obama without a jacket, Conway’s feet — you’re so trifling. This is why we can’t have nice things!”
But, um…then I saw the photo in question and… Oh. Oh, honey… *sigh*
I don’t care about your feet on the couch, but damn, girl, get your VAGINA off the couch!
I hope she at least had on Spanx.