One for the road.

OH MY GOD. I am so predictable.. I definitely came home completely shitfaced at 5:30am, stripped down to underwear while feeding Pete handfuls of of "Meow Mix" and ignoring my brother's intense snores from the couch.. and buttered some wild grilled cheese sandwich for myself. As the toast was crisping, I realized I should probably put non-party dress and non-neglige clothes on, so I moseyed on down to my bedroom and threw on a gigantic wifebeater. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and thought "Oh, wow, best hipster outfit ever because this dirty beater looks like an amazing dress". Then I realized what it was and thought.. fuck, three maybe four nights in a semi-row, shit Trisha you cannot do this. You cannot be that girl. It fits, I wear it, take what you want from it.. read between the lines.. whateverrrrr.

If all the aforementioned is true, then I am shitty. Ya know what, I am shitty. Shitty because I was weirdly bummed that Frankie made out with some awkward bleach blonde new-boobed haggard ass hoe (oh god.. I need to quit reality tv).. at the bar in front of me. Frankie.. really?! He fucking murrrrdered a girl on Craigslist. Anyhow, and I also got bummed because Bartender #1 tells me (hot) Bartender #2 can't stop talking about me, yet has a girlfriend. Seriously, GET A GRIP. Everyone, GET A GRIP.. including me. More importantly, me.

Annnnnnnnd, I am a boy crazy whore.. which proves why I should not be wearing this wifebeater right now. Awful.