No One Hates Brooklyn More Than Me

I love weekends where there's nothing to do but lie around without power. It's actually one of my favorite things, unless of course I want to eat the food that's in my own house. But that's another story. This weekend was actually the weekend I needed, one where I got to navel gaze and ignore the outside world. Where I got to think about me and what I want.

You wanna know what it is that I want? More sleep. All the time. More fucking sleep.

I wish I was an instructor at a girls school. Not a teen girl school, I'm not lookin' for no pervy shit to go down, but a younger girls school. One of the first things I'd let them know is there's a cut off date for using a baby voice to get what you want. And there's also a short list of people that shit will work on. If you're in your twenties or thirties, it will only work with people that want to fuck you. There is no power in appropriating a baby voice outside of that.

What is an art fair that has only two tents with art for sale? Bullshit is what I'd call it, but that's just me. I basically ate an elephant ear and kept it movin'. Fucking fake art fair.

I'm supposed to be thankful to have a job, right? Remind me why again.

Be Easy,
KZ