guys. trash. boogers.

brian said he would let me use the upper floors of his hotel/appartment so that i could paint. and the tattoo apprenticeship that got sucked into the drunken pools of vomit at my bar is still gonna happen goddamnit.
i’m quitting. not appreciated. not givin a fuck.

iam has become sort of a last resort for me. i love my in person boys and girls. they seem not to have so much fruitcake bullshit to hand out.
i bought girlscout cookies. everyone at them.
barbara’s comin so sooooooon.
love me.