COUNTIN' CARBS

I spent my Sunday Fun-day with Natalie, aka Nattendo, aka, My short Colombian sista'.

Sorry for torturing you with all this deliciousness but if you want in on the carbs head to Ralph's Diner (I recommend the Montgomery, a word I just realized I can't say out loud because I'm retarded, Jack Burger).

And if you really want to join in on the party go read Natalie's food blog, and go call her a foodie because she hates that word...but I don't.


By the way guys, go check out Kate Earl. She's a super talented single mother absolutely killing it.

THE GREAT BAM-BI-NO!

"It's about time Benny, my clothes are going out of style"

TATTOO AND BROWNIEZ

I woke up saturday morning with one of the strangest hangover pains I've ever had. I got unexpectedly drunk Friday night, and no, I don't mean roofied. Let's just say Bushwick sells some interesting mixed drinks. My plan was to wake up around 2-3 o'clock, naturally, and wast the whole day doing nothing but straight up, chill. 

Completely screwing my plans, my mind decided it was time to wake up around 12 o'clock. I texted Mergum, aka, the only other girl that will come with me to Applebee's for their Brownie sundae for no other reason than being in the mood for fatty food, and she doesn't annoy me because she's this really super chill earthy no-fucks type of person.

On the way we pass this: 

This means trouble, but it was sort of meant for me to pass by. So instead of making bad decisions we continue on our quest to Brownie Heaven. After terrible service, and cold mozzarella sticks we start contemplating tattoos. We finally decide, why not? John Lennon was murdered by this fat fuck manic, here, lol jk here, and me and Mergum decide, (after a terrific suggestion by my other bff, Shuan) Rubber Soul. The fab fours sixth album. These boys made us closer and helped us bond to be the Chucky and Tommy duo that we are (but I'm Tommy...most of the time).

So we casually walk into the Bullseye Tattoo Shop and Mergz realizes her ID is not in her wallet, which is crucial guys, never leave your house without that thing, think of it as your bby. Anyway, long story shot, the tattooist are convinced Mergime isn't of age, I find her ID, save the day (TOMMY PICKLES FTW), no one know what Rubber Soul is, i run into people who remember me from high-school but don't remember my name and yet i remember them in entirety, we meet the dude who's inking our skin, and BAM.

Although the minor mishap in the beginning I had a great time being permanently branded by the artist, Danny, who's ridiculously talented, and quite the babe. He was super stoked to being tattooing all day, and didn't seem the slightest bit egotistical, which is rad..for me...and you, I suppose. He mentioned drinking 3 Rockstars to keep awake, and managed the 10 minute session not be terribly awkward. Go check out his work, here. 

 

Music Monday

If you enjoy an interesting storyline, hot babes, cray-cray women, and phenomenal voices, listen to the Next To Normal soundtrack. You won't regret it.

THINGS THAT MAKE ME MAKE THIS FACE

• When I wear my "Fuck You You Fucking Fuck" shirt in public
• When I tell someone they need gum...politely, jeez.
• When people tell me I'm wrong for thinking it's okay for Kanye "The King" West to be an egotistical ass-hat. #KANYESHRUG
• When I lose a follower on Twitter/Instagram
• When I introduce myself, and you look me up and down
• When I can't walk in my heels
• When people tell say "OMG, YOU SAID THAT?"

MUSIC MONDAY

   

This is the best scene with the best song. EVER.

MOCCASINS ARE STUPID

SO STOP WEARING THEM, boys!

Moccasins are the worst "trend"guys can follow. Listen up you hip-scenester, for the sake of breaking my heart, and making me cry blood tears please rethink the next time you decide to put on the Eastern Indian tribe shoes. Leave them for the hunters and traders, they'll put them to good use, I promise. I know it's hard for you to not wear a pair of shoes that are so god damn comfortable but for us ladies, and more importantly for yourself, give them up. I mean, we stopped wearing tracksuits (right?). Next time you're thinking of leaving your house with what looks like flats with sheep in the interior that make your rail thin legs in your skinny jeans look even more stick-like, don't*.

Anyway, here are some alternatives:

If you're not into my suggestions, read this, I guess.

*There ARE exceptions to moccasins. Very few, but they exist. 

HAPPY CAMPER

Can we discuss the wonderful, deliciousness that is Strawberry Arnold Palmer? Lately, the only liquid slowly, and magically falling down my throat is SAP. For all of you who don't know, here, now you do.
 Not only do I want to smell like this amazingness but I want to swim in it. Can someone arrange this? If you haven't tried Strawberry Arnold Palmer, which has the just the right blend of half iced yea, half lemonade, and HALF friggin' strawberry (and totally doesn't taste like annoying artificial strawberry flavored lollipops, gross), I'll totally buy you your first can. I'm serious.

For god sakes, look at the beautiful design. A tiled print of strawberries ALWAYS makes me happy. Call me strange, actually, no, call me Strawberry. 

PHOTO BANG

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