Who needs match dot com when you have girls-who-hit-you-up-and-are-dtf-that-night-on-facebook dot com?
It doesn’t have to be your birthday for you to get a birthday cake. They’ll just sell it to you. Seriously.
If my mustache gets any bigger I’m gonna have to sign up as a registered sex offender.
Had a tooth pulled yesterday which was super rad. It was like the Texas Chainsaw Massacre in my mouth. Now it’s like any given Tom Hanks movie.
Life is just waiting for me to have an old school Johnny Gill box style haircut. I can feel it.
Jane Lynch is like the female version of Gary Busey.
Apparently they call Seattle Emerald City but I didn’t see the wizard anywhere and I even looked for him at Hooters.
I’m about to get ready to wait a few more minutes before I start anticipating getting ready to board, but not before I wait to get ready.
Did you know in the movie Back To The Future that they really didn’t travel through time? Because time travel doesn’t exist.
Tomorrow I’ll be flying for the first time in a couple years. The last time I was on a plane I had an anxiety attack and couldn’t do anything about it except try to Keanu my way out of it by telling myself there is no spoon. That didn’t work. If you were to see me while it happened, you’d have no idea that anything was wrong (I have infinite poker face). But it was and I had to just deal with it and work my way through it.
Ironically, I love traveling by plane. It’s the boarding the plane/the plane backing away from the gate/feeling like a sardine in a tin can/taking off part that bothers me. Once in the air I’m fine. I don’t get it. In hindsight it’s like I block out the fact that I’m thousands of feet in the air. Why doesn’t that bother me but the part when we’re still on the ground does?
I will be somewhat more prepared tomorrow. I went to my doctor and got some xanax to take before the flight (and most likely during the flight) so hopefully that’ll keep me from having another attack.
Another thing that’s weird is when I flew home last time, I was so hungover (still drunk from the night before) and tired from the lack of sleep (about an hour and a half) that I had no anxiety whatsoever. It was just like take me home to my bed. That was like the longest drunken cab ride home ever, but on a plane with a layover, haha.
I think if I was on a private plane, or had similar space for seating and moving around, then I might not get anxiety about flying. Let’s just hope that the drugs work tomorrow.
I’m thinking about getting a Chinese symbol that either stands for “whatever” or “and stuff” tattooed on one of my elbows.
I’ll probably never see it, but good thing the movie Sex Tape is rated R because otherwise I’d have to complain about it.