Sunday, 15 September 2013

The Fault in Our Pizzabox

This weekend I got a boyfriend. He was the best thing to ever happen to me, even better than Doctor Who. He gave me food, kept me warm, watched shit on Netflix with me, and didn't hog the couch. Plus he didn't mind that I was super sick. I still am sick, but not as badly. Now I have medication! (Perks!) He also was featured as one of my stupid photos in Instagram, and my dad brought him home.

One might think this is too good to be true. It is. My boyfriend was actually a pizza that I drew a picture of David Tennant on. We cuddled on the couch as I slowly died a million times, and watched baseball and shit on the television. I was so hungry I ate more than two pieces of pizza, which usually isn't a thing, and that relationship blossomed for the short twenty minutes. Then we broke up and I moved on. Like always.

Is this a new low? Nope! I'm totally awesome. I also own the rain gods. I am on a roller coaster only going up.

Oh, to anyone who might read this blog and has also read 'The Fault in Our Stars', isn't that book just so overrated? I didn't think it was that great. It was good, and touching, but I was more emotionally touched by Perks of Being a Wallflower. Maybe I'm a soulless bitch. Whoopsie!


A thought- Does not showering make hair dye stay in longer, and brighter?

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