That’s right. I may have a flesh-eating staph infection. I may have been asleep a mere 40 minutes ago having terrifyingly lucid dreams due to the antibiotics I’m on.
But, I will STILL go out tonight. I’m doing it for my 2010 self that had the worst night ever last year due to the (awful) guy I was dating that my friends not-so-affectionately nicknamed “Tutti Frutti.” Psst, he was the manager of a yogurt shop (and attained the position at the enterprising age of 27).
Whatever. I am primping (gpoy), doing it up, and having all the yogurt I want tonight.
HAPPY THANKSGIVING, Tumbladies and gays.
Hey! I did something permanent to myself! Give me attention!
I wanted to get a tattoo of something that wouldn’t be immediately recognizable to others, so I decided to get two H’s joined together in the center. They stand for health + happiness, and I got it last night (rather than another) because it’s the same number of lines as 11.1.11.
Knowing my luck, it’s probably a widely known symbol in some far away land that roughly translates to, “ALL GAYS MUST DIE!”
