Unabashed lover of large breasts, pornography, foul mouths, and loud music. Childhood diagnosis of Oppositional Defiant Disorder is possibly related to current position as Associate Editor and only female employee at GuySpeed.
There's so much in the way of world peace that it can sometimes feel like we'll never get there. As humans, we all have opinions and desires that clash with those of others, and our fierce defense of those things often leads to un-bridgeable gaps that divide us, creating conflict. I think I have found one thing we can all agree on, though: Guy Fieri is a hilarious douche.
So I broke it off with someone I really liked a lot three days ago, and then immediately got the flu. I don't want to talk about it, leave me alone. I mean, Happy Valentine's Day! Let me tell you about the weird dream I had last night!
Life advice: Don't drunkenly text a picture like this to your neighbor with some slightly-misspelled version of "I made a bedsheet tent, are you still awake?" unless you love opening big, awkward cans of worms. In other news: I'm thinking about installing a breathalyzer on my phone.
Even though my complete lack of self-control dictates that any museum trip I go on in Amsterdam be "sponsored" by legal marijuana (which would make The The Museum of Medieval Torture Instruments (MMTI) infinitely more terrifying) I'm still excited to visit.
Every spring, I get the big idea that I'm going to start bicycling to work. Sometimes I even do it for a week, and pretend that it's the best thing I've ever done in my life, and that everything has changed forever. On the first day that it rains/is too hot/I don't feel like it leave me alone, that plan goes out the window. All that is about to change, once one of you sends this to me in the mail. COUGH IT UP cheapskate, I'm the one bringing you all the babes every day.
If you’re like this kid, you spring out of bed each morning and greet the day, anticipating a great day at work where you don’t even mind working overtime, because you love what you do. If you're like most of us though, you dread your job, can't stand your boss, and spend most of your time at the copy machine wishing you were sitting on it and making copies of your butt to distribute to your terrible coworkers as Valentines. Take comfort: your life could be much, much worse; you could be jerking off animals for a living.
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