bitchy night

God.

I am swearing off new shoes. Any new shoes except maybe a new pair of Chucks. But leather shoes or sandals? Thanks, but NO thanks. Even if you're offering me a brand-new pair of authentic leather Louis Vuitton kicks. Seriously.

My poor feet are once again blistered by a new pair of seemingly-cute-but-wears-like-hell pair of Mary Janes. Yeah, the same MJ's I bought the other week. Fuck. From now on I am swearing off anything I ever find cute--except maybe, well, guys. Haha. But that's another matter altogether.

Anywho, got pissed off at a couple of my roommates. They were all ranting and bitching about the chaotic state of the kitchen. I admit, a couple or so of the dirty dishes were mine, but it's not like I made that whole mess single-handedly. I'm not the only one using the goddamn kitchen for chrissakes. Infinitely incensed, I got ahead and washed them just to get rid of the yapping.

And yeah, the kitchen is still a mess. But hell, that's not my problem now, is it?