So this weekend I tried the going out thing.
On Friday I had a date with this guy, amazing time was spent, not a waste of make up like the last few dates I’ve been on, which let me tell you, make me weep for the future of human kind.
On Saturday, well let me just put it this way, by 11 pm I have had enough of drunk people shoving and pushing and was one second away from having a huge full blown…
Never take a chance with a tattoo artist whose arms are bare. Never put your money on a fighter without any scars. But most importantly, never trust someone who only knows how to tell you they love you with their lips.
Be careful who you vent to.
When did loving yourself
become so rare, that it’s
revolutionary to do so?