August 2011
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Awkward.
When your apartment burns down and your mother finds your single lady toy.
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August Hates Me
This week two years ago: Dad’s funeral.
This week last year: Mom’s surgery.
This week this year: my apartment burns down. That’s right, I said it. I got a phone call this morning - because technically I’m on vacation at the moment - letting me know that what hasn’t been burned is probably water damaged. Awesome.
Anyway, there’s got to be a psychic or...
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It's a super red letter day y'all!
My laptop’s camera and VYou are finally friends again. To celebrate click here and ask me something fun. You can also go here and ask me something on Tumblr. I’m taking suggestions for my next Vimeo! Should I rant about something? Give you my slightly racist but still kind of funny Asian woman? I don’t know.
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WatchMy video response to “What was the first thing you thought of after you found out about the earthquake ( or felt it)?”
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For Claire:
Too much sorority vagina.
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Do you think Rick Astley has ever been rickrolled?
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You know the feeling you get at the end of your laundry cycle where you only have bad underwear left to put on your dimpled overly plump ass? They’re maybe a little too small, worn out, faded, a vague memory of a particular sexual encounter you had whilst wearing them in a time when they occupied an earlier slot in your laundry cycle? You only wear them because you have to, you...
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You know what, Tumblr Spam?
You’re really starting to piss me off.
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Things I Should Stop Doing:
Tracking “Meryl Davis” tag.
Looking at said tagged posts and staring in awe (with a healthy dose of creeped out).
Ignore the way someone I post about would probably feel if they saw the shit I tag them in.
Remember that Meryl is my cousin.
Realize again that I need to win a Pulitzer to get on par in the family.
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“You don’t dance like a white girl.”
– Proudest moment to date.
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I'm rocking a side ponytail and nail art today...
Therefore, I will only answer to the name Heather.
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Nine times out of ten, I have no idea what I'm...
That’s right friends, I’m faking my way through life at this point. This is not to say that at some point long ago I was doing whatever the opposite of faking my way through life is. On the contrary, I’ve been faking it for as long as I can remember.
When I was in kindergarten, I remember being in a small group of students selected because they showed signs of low self-esteem....
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So I'm Standing in a Gay Bar...
Alone as my friend makes out with the guy I helped hook up with him. Perhaps this is my larger life problem? He got a free butt plug because I took him somewhere this evening… Yeah. Definitely need to hang with more heterosexuals.
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So does everyone feel like they’re at Market Days with me yet?
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