Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday!

Anyone who knows me (which is nobody…) knows I’m a Grumpy Cat 99.9% of the time. Buuuut, one thing that never fails to cheer me up is Thanksgiving!

Now, I live in England and we don’t celebrate it here. I don’t know why Americans always think we celebrate that, like, hello, it’s specifically an American holiday!! Although Canadians also celebrate it… I don’t know why that is…. I don’t know if it’s like the same Thanksgiving or Canada’s own special Thanksgiving…. It’s on a different date so… maybe it’s kinda different from the American one.

Anyway..

No, we don’t celebrate ThanskGiving. But we do celebrate Black Friday… because we’re consumer whores just like the Americans. Btw, I stay the hell away from Black Friday. Consummerism is… an unattractive human trait.

But regardless, Thanksgiving is my FAVORITE holiday ever! And it’s in my favorite season: fall! Gosh… Thanksgiving makes me think of the Macy’s Day Parade and Yankee pumpkin-fragranced candles and pine-cone wreaths and golden leaves on wet streets and hot turkey with collard greens – holy crap! The only thing that could make me happier than Thanksgiving is if I was handed a box of kittens.

I was lucky to get to celebrate ThanksGiving in America when I was about…….. ……….. ……. :drums fingers: …… oh my god… I was probably about…. 17 or something. It was hundreds of years ago anyway….

But it was a great experience… I was in Vegas with my American relatives and I’ll never forget my gran being drunk AF and we were watching the Macy’s Parade and there was a big red Clifford the Dog float and she was like, “Look at that big bastard!!!” The way she just came out with it was hilarious!

Anyway, I was a little brat back then (not much has changed, I guess….) and I didn’t appreciate the moment, but I do now looking back on it. Gosh, it was great. I love Thanksgiving so much!

Now, ya see, I could celebrate it here (just for me) but I’m homeless (kind of) at the moment so I can’t really do the whole Turkey and greens thang… and I have no friends to invite round to my… lack of home. So… but I will do “something” for it. I will probably treat myself to some KFC or something (wha-? I like KFC!) and do some generosity stuff to “give thanks”.

Hope y’all across the pond have a great one!

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Why These Kids Such Hoes?

Spring-Break

Y’know what I notice about the New Millenials? They’re whores.

I mean these kids are like 18/20 and they already have serious mileage on them, like they’ve already fucked like 10 people… even the little nerdy, spotty kids are getting laid these days…

Look, my generation (Old Millenials) used to lie about that shit and pretend we’d had lots of sex but we didn’t actually. These motherfuckers are actually doing this shit. They’ve already done every position multiple times by 18…

Idk, I just find it weird. I mean, most of them still look 12. They’re acting grown and they think they’re so grown ’cause they’re “legal” but they’re just kids, they still have kid bodies and kid ways of thinking.

They should be playing computer games and eating cookies. Instead they’re fucking and sucking and sticking dicks in their ears and being filmed for PornHub. And they think porn is normal sex so at 18 they’re letting guys come on their face and stick it up their ass and having orgies. (I’m considering the female side of this because I’m a woman and because it’s women who are systematically humiliated during sex, not men).

It’s just a shame – in my opinion. But’ what do I know? I just think it’s weird… I mean to have 10 sexual partners by your 18th birthday… is that not gonna leave someone fucked up in the head in later life? And how the fuck do they manage to avoid diseases and pregnancy when they’re fucking so much (or maybe they don’t…? ). I mean, I just look at a man and I start itching… and none of these motherfuckers use proper contraception these days…

Anyway, maybe (obviously!) I’m just… “out of touch”. I mean, it’s no wonder they’re like this since all the culture they’re exposed to is about fucking and sucking and “excess”. All the music these days is about fucking.  There’s no kid-friendly music on the radio. 12-year-olds are having porn music shoved down their ears…. there’s nothing else to listen to (from their generation) so obviously they get brainwashed by it so you got 12-year-olds singing all this ratchet shit and doing all this ratchet shit and thinking it’s normal. When I was a kid, the worst we had was the Spice Girls “I Wanna Be Your Lover” and that was considered kinda outrageous.

Anyway, obviously I’ve become a grumpy old whining hag and should just shut the fuck up and mind my own business…

Eddie And The Most Annoying Bitch

Nov 13 ~ London

So I’m living in this hostel while I complete my Masters Degree at a London university and there is always some drama going on as you might expect from communal living..

Yesterday, there was the situation with Eddie and the most annoying bitch… seriously Eddie – dump yo bitch! She got your balls on a leash, kid!

Ok, so the people sharing the hostel room with me are mainly Club 18-25 and they are fucking crazy! Like juvenile as fuck! Reminds me what a dick I was when I was younger, smh…

As happens many times in hostel life, my rapidly-ageing ass was woken at some ungodly hour by “Eddie… Eddie… Eddie… Eddie…. Eddie” Btw, this chick is maybe twenty…. three? I have no idea…. but her voice is as raspy as an old country singer after a concert and a bottle of burbon… she was clearly as pissed too… all I hear is:

“Eddie, have you checked your pocket?…. Eddie have you checked your pocket?… Eddie, have you checked your pocket…” Yes, bish, Eddie has checked his stupid fucking pocket, I mean, damn, how many times do you have to fucking ask?! This ish is why men murder their girlfriends… TWO IN THE FUCKING MORNING!!! Btw, I am grumpy as fuck if selfish-ass people wake me up at 2 in the morning.

She kept asking like he has thick but clearly she was the thick one. I mean, I have my angry rain-man moments but this bish took it to a whole new level with her childish bullshit tantrum. Eddie’s a lil sissy though, he doesn’t get a pass cuz… he’s dating an idiot and he lets her talk to him like that.

Just a tip, if your girlfriend/boyfriend says your name at the beginning of every single sentence… its an indication… that they’re a bossy, controlling motherfucker.

So anyway, SHE had lost something and it was Eddie’s fault of course cuz he’s supposed to keep track of all her shit for her… So Eddie proceeds to get ready for bed but she’s like, “Eddie, we have to go back to Camden” (repeated five times). “Eddie, I’ve booked the Uber … I’ve already booked the Uber, Eddie… don’t be like this, Eddie!”

Eddie, btw, is just like getting ready for bed and shit, he hasn’t even said nothing. This is why men are fucked up in the head, cuz of women like this!

“Eddie the Uber is booked…. I’ve paid for the Uber… Eddie…. thanks, Eddie … thanks a lot, Eddie” I’m still trying to figure out what the fuck Eddie has done wrong. I mean, YOU lost your shit so YOU go get your shit from Camden. Eddie doesn’t need to hold your little handy-pandy. If you’re old enough to take it up the ass, you’re old enough to go get your lost shit from Camden by your fucking self!

“Eddie, I’ll buy you a drink if you come to Camden….” Of course, being the lil sissy bish Eddie was, he immediately agreed to this despite the fact he’d just spent the last 10 minutes getting ready for bed. In fact, the speed at which he agreed made me wonder if “Buy you a drink” was code for “Give you a BJ (Eddie)”… but anyway… maybe he was just desperate to shut her up…

So then they leave the room like Shakespearean actors at the end of a scene… (she was still going on about the fucking Uber)… lights go back out… all goes quiet… then 2 minutes later :knock knockknockknockknockknockknock…. Like, this bish repeats everything, not just talking, maybe she got OCD or something…

Toaster Terry (the Italian pirate) is in our room and after 5 minutes of this knocking he went to the door like, “I sweara to fucking goda…. you fucking do that one more fucking tima… i sweara to fucking goda… you justa fucking try it! ” and she’s like, “We just need the keycard …Eddie, get the key card…Eddie, where’d you leave your keycard, Eddie can you find the key card? Did you find the key card, Eddie?” and Terry is muttering, “Wankers….. wankers….”, and I was smirking a little bit cuz they are wankers… then they left again… they’ll be back…

:sigh:

17 Days

Nov 12 ~ London

So I’m studying my MSc Computer Science in London and living in a hostel to save money. It’s Sunday today and I’ve so far spent all day (and all week) at the university library trying to finish two assignments which are due in at midnight. If and when I successfully finish my Masters degree, I never want to look at computer science ever again!

I know, people say, “Why bother then…?” Idk… why bother with anything? What does it matter either way? What’s the point? What’s the meaning of life? Why are we here…? My life is a dice roll, I don’t know where I’m headed, I don’t know the right path, I have to gamble on stuff and that stuff doesn’t always pan out…

Anyway, that’s a discussion for another time.

I just feel like a new mom and Computer Science is my baby and I want to put it down and go outside and scream for a while but I can’t… cause I have assignments due in at midnight.

I’m also perpetually hungry… probably because I need the comfort of food. Y’know the most comforting food in the world? BBQ chicken drumsticks…. But I feel like a dirty bastard if I eat those in public (I am currently always in public). There’s no lady-like way to eat BBQ chicken drumsticks. That’s the kind of food to eat alone in a candle-lit room with soft music playing, your curtains drawn, door locked, and your phone on silent.

Anyway…

I hate my new dorm room….

I’m in a 15 bed room at the top of a 3 bed bunk and When it rains water drips onto my bed (because my bed is right below the ceiling window and the ceiling window is old and leaks). Worse than that…

As I said yesterday, I’ve now been transferred to the long-termer room and long-termer rooms always suck ‘cuz everybody is super-friendly with each other in a school-yard/rape-you-up-the-ass kind of way, and they already know each other and they don’t mind their own business.

Short-termer rooms are different because people are always coming and going so it’s really a hi-bye situation. And Casey was in the short-termer room (tall black guy (I know, Casey sounds like a white guy name but whatevs…) he had rough hands, was kinda cute), and the crazy girl (chubby, about my age, from Lithuania, had her mobile home stolen, was kinda cute)… they were nice, I miss them.

The long-termer room is more like Big Brother sans cameras. And there’s this Ozzie guy (p.s. I’ve concluded I hate Ozzie guys… (conclusion made from meeting a total of 3 Ozzie guys…)) who is so fucking stupid… omg.

He’s like “I dahn’t wahch telavashan…” – btw, his accent is so fucking annoying – wtf is with you Australians and the way you fucking talk?!?!

The first time I met this guy it was at breakfast two days befor and he swished into the room (which is a weird thing for a ‘Roided up dude to do but whatevs) He swished into the room and was like :super-annoying accent: “C’man everybady, lightan tha fack ap, it’s sah fackin’ quiot in here, jaysas! Have sam fackin fan!!” and then he swished out again.

Anyway, so he was like- “Aye dahn’t wahch telavashan… ya’knah whoy??? …….. … .. . … . ya’knah whoy aye dahn’t wahch telavashan….?” (um… NO ONE CARES!!!) “….Becahs TayVay stands fa TeLIEvashan…. an’ aye dahn’t wahch teLIEvashan…. becahs, well, ya’knah, teLIEvashan…geddat?”

Like this guy thinks he’s so fucking smart because “TeLIEvashan”. I bet it took him a whole decade to come up with that. Anyway I’m surprised he doesn’t watch “teLIEvashan” because his level of stupidity usually comes from watching too much television. Anyway…

He also thinks he’s gods-fucking-gift. A belief spurred on my the horny young women in the room who whisper to him, “Let me touch it!” (fyi, his dick), “Let me touch it!… Take it off!” (fyi, his shirt, or whatever). Then he leaves the room and they start complaining about him.

:sigh:

Spare me the kiddie drama, please!

And I have to put up with this bullshit for the next 17 days…. Oh wait, it’s actually longer….. but I’m gonna pretend it’s 17 days cause that thought was bad enough.

Moved Into Hell…

Nov 11 ~ London:

So I’m living in hostels in London while I complete my studies because London rent is crazy….

Today, I got put in a new room – the long-termer’s room. Basically, it’s a room people LIVE in. These are not vacationers, some of these people have been living in the hostel for months and months. And I fracking hate this room! I mean, there’s some good aspects and some bad aspects…

BAD:

  1. The room stinks of marijuana.
  2. The environment is like the Big Brother house.. but without the cameras.
  3. Long-termer rooms suck because everyone already knows each other and are very territorial/clicky/us-vs-them.
  4. Someone in the room has bronchitis and I don’t wan’ it!
  5. The guys in the room are stereotypical ‘roided up white “doodes” who think they’re so cool and strut around half-naked grabbing their crotches, listening to shitty rap and thinking they’re gangsta.

Slightly-less bad:

  1. In a long-termer room, I can stay in bed during the day (if I want) because long-termers sometimes do that, whereas that behavior is weird in a short-termer room. In a short-termer room people give you grief about being in bed during the day because: different types of people.
  2. I have a better wi-fi connection – not sure if because: room-change or because: top-bunk.
  3. My beds plug sockets and light are in a more convenient location (e.g., not behind my head).

Both bad and less-bad:

I’m on the top bunk (of a triple bunk) which means:

  1. I can sit up! There’s not enough room to sit up on a bottom or middle bunk so this is nice!
  2. I have more room! Because I don’t have another bed above me!
  3. I’m more out of the way so I get left alone more but….
  4. The exit is so far down, makes me feel claustrophobic!
  5. I worry about getting down the rickety ladder!
  6. I can’t hang stuff from my ceiling like I could on a bottom or mid bunk.
  7. If something falls down the side of my bed it has further to fall and could end up anywhere!
  8. What if someone takes my ladder??! How will I get down??! #communeproblems

 

“Is It Hat?” Notes on Crazy People

Nov 8th: London

So I’m living in this hostel in London while I study at university. I recently moved to a new place cuz, in my last one, people were rude. At least some people talk to me here (so far), even if some of them are crazy. In fact, that’s probably why they talk to me…

These are some of the people in my room…

There’s the woman above me (Jackie Chan left) who seems to wanna be friends – anyone who wants to be friends with me is crazy!! She keeps asks me for the time and she don’t play if someone has the light on at night or dares to take a phone-call. Pity the fool! We had a nice long conversation about Liverpool and the Beatles. I’m quiet so it was a one-sided conversation, but she didn’t seem to notice. That’s probably the only conversation I’ve had in like… 6 months. Anyway, any potential friendship will quickly fall apart because I self-sabotage every potential friendship.

Then there’s the voodoo woman to the right of me who violently murmers witchcraft in her sleep and asks me weird questions. Well, not weird exactly but she asks one question then fifty related questions and doesn’t listen to the answers I provide…

For example:

Her (raspy voice): “Dey toilets?”
Me: “Huh?”
Her: “Dey toilets jere?”
Me: “Yeah… upstairs… downstairs… past the kitchen…”
Her: “Dey wiminz toilets?”
Me: “Theere’s womens toilets, mens toilets, unisex toilets… take your pick!”
Her: “Dey menz an’ wiminz toilets?
Me: “Yeah… upstairs… downstairs… past the kitchen – sinks, showers, and toilets… for men and for women… either..or both… exclusively and inclusively…”
Her: “Dey wiminz toilets?
Me: “Yep!”

Yesterday, she came in the shower rooms just after I’d showered and stood blocking my exit along the narrow corridor….

Her: “Is ta wata hat?”
Me: “Well, it gets hot…”
Her: “Is it hat?”
Me: “It gets hot, but you have to press the button and let it run for a bit.”
Her: “Which wan?”
Me: “…any…”
Her: “Which wan hat?”
Me: “Any… but you have to let it warm up…”
Her: “Dis wan hat?”
Me: “Any… but it has to warm up”
Her: :undresses in front of me, still blocking the exit:
Me: “Can I …. get… passed….?
Hr: “Dis wan hat?”
Me: “Sure… can I just… get.. passed… so I can go gouge my eyes out?”

Then there’s Toaster Terry who I was initially scared of because he looks like a Pirate but on my second day he was like :pirate voice: “Aye me maties, which one of yous scallywags be having some toast?! Toast all round! Yahh!” And he’s there toasting toast like some toasting toaster! And he’d made toast for all these random strangers so… he’s cool. Toaster Terry is aight.

Then theres one-eyed Joe… an old black Italian man. At breakfast this morning, he was like, “Can anyone help me… can anyone help me?” Understandably, everyone immediately pretended not to speak any English. Eventually some sucker asked what was up and he was like, “I want some cornflakes.. I want some tea.. little sugar… little milk… some orange juice… two slices of toast… with jam….a lil butta…”

Btw, like, breakfast is self-service… Thankfully the chick he was asking had more balls than me. She was like: What, Why, and Why: “What do you want? Why are you asking me? Why don’t you get it yourself?” And he said, “Well, I’m one-eyed Joe, I can’t see to get ma breakfist…” So she helped him out. But then he saw that as an invite to chat her up which made me even more glad I didn’t help him.

London 7 Nov 17: Thoughts On New Hostel

So I’m studying at university in London and cuz accommodation is so expensive, I’m living in a hostel. This month, I’m in a new one in Central London. It’s hard to describe whether it’s good or bad – after all, it’s a hostel…

My current room is in the basement but they’re moving me in a week’s time ((because… idk but idc) my total time here is one month).

I’m cautious about forming opinions because I thought the previous hostel was pretty good at first and then I quickly grew to hate it. Staying long-term is very different than just crashing a couple of night. Little peeves soon because major annoyances.

Because it’s in the basement, when the lights are out it’s literally pitch black. Thankfully, I’m not AS afraid of the dark as I used to be, and there’s individual bed lights and I have my phone I can switch on if I get scared (lol) – thank god for modern technology!

The room is always freezing – I sleep in several layers of clothes.

Breakfast is like the other place… wheat, more wheat, and if you don’t like wheat there’s always wheat… but it’s free and they do have proper orange juice instead of orange cordial and it tastes like it’s been freshly grown and squeezed by a Spaniard. I had one sip and was like WTF?! This the best damn orange juice I ever tasted!! Who’d have thunk it!

I haven’t tried the showers yet which makes me seem like a filthy cretin but… as a socially-anxious introvert I just haven’t figured out the logistics of the showers yet. I mean this is a place where you’re getting naked so you gotta figure out the logistics… The nearest shower room is unisex so… hell no! The female shower room is two floors up and I gotta find the quiet times, like the “off-peak”. I mean, look, it’s not like showering at home. There’s nowhere to put your stuff so… you gotta figure out the logistics of where you put your stuff, and how to avoid getting your stuff stolen, and how to avoid being naked around strangers. It’s #communeproblems and people who haven’t done communal living just don’t understand…

There’s more grown-ups here, like people my age (30+) and 40+ and 50+ which makes the atmosphere more mature. The staff are also older, friendlier, more professional and more mature. The previous hostel had unprofessional kiddie staff who pranked around all the time. And people don’t seem as “us-vs-them” as the other place, like people say “hi” to me and stuff.

The stairs for the bunks are… weird. Like they detach and you can choose stairs that reach the top bunk and block access to the middle bunk or stairs that reach the middle bunk but prevent access to the top bunk and block access to the bottom bunk. It’s like some sort of Ma-jong or Jenga or… idk… a puzzle… And obviously if you use the stairs to get into bed you can’t exactly put them back after unless you have really long arms, or you just throw the ladder to the ground. And then how would you get down again? I’m in the middle bed and I tried to jump into it without using the stairs so the guy on top of me (only way I have a guy on top of me these days…) could use the long stairs but… Y’know, once you hit 30, your knees start to go (no more par core for me!) so I really needed the little stairs. I figured if he needed the big ones he’d make it known and I’d cope somehow but thankfully he turned out to be oriental and he got those Jackie Chan skills going on so he just somersaults down from there…

London 6 Nov 17: Accepting Responsibility

So I headed back to London yesterday after a week visiting the fam in the North. This visit made me realise that I really need to work on my attitude (had a massive argument with my fam). It’s hard being INTJ because we just are Thinking – Judging. We see problems everywhere and we want to fix them so things run more efficiently and we struggle to see the perspective of “feeling” personality types.

Reality is people are not machines, and they don’t necessarily want to be fixed, in fact they’re not necessarily broken just ‘cause we think they are. What I see as a flaw in someone, they may see as their greatest attribute. Besides, it’s none of my business!

And y’know, I’m so used to having to read between the lines and I realized today there isn’t always something between the lines. I’m so used to people lying to me and cheating and back-stabbing that I’ve come to believe that is what is always going on. People are always lying to me. Every social situation is a hostile one.

And that’s why I blew up at my family. But I was wrong. I was the only hostile entity in that situation. It’s made me realize I have to take a seat and get my attitude straightened out. I can’t keep being like this.

I got a lot of pain and trauma in my past but that does not give me the right to be a bitch to everyone. And everything is not always how I perceive it. My ability to Think and Judge situations accurately is not great. And y’know, even if my beliefs are right, it doesn’t matter. I’m not the Thought Police, it’s not my place to control what everyone thinks and does. And it’s not their job to meet my expectations.

I am the problem.

No-one likes to think they’re the problem, right? Cause its easier if we’re not, then we don’t have to change. But sometimes we are. Often, I am.

London 5 Nov 17: Guy Fawkes Night

So I headed back to London today after a week visiting the family. Btw, on the train back I got 4 priority seats to myself (cuz quiet train), and a free coffee and half my fare back (cuz delays). So I was kinda chuffed!

So the deal is, I’m studying at university in London and can’t afford proper accommodation so I live in a hostel. I’m staying at a new one this month which is in Zone 1 (Central London) so it’s a lot nearer to university and everything else than my previous hostel which I’m happy about cuz it means less stress.

I got to the hostel about 15:00 and was looking forward to getting in my PJs and chilling out but then I remembered its Guy Fawkes Night and there’s a free firework display at Victoria Park.

Like a typical socially-inept introvert, I was really half and half about going, but I thought I should cuz I don’t know if I’ll be in London next year for this so…

I decided to go but I wasn’t quite sure how to get there. Initially I went to get a train from Kings Cross station cause that’s my nearest station but then I wondered if it would be super expensive cause when I used to be in Zone 3 it would cost a bomb to go in/out of Zone 1…. and Kings Cross is Zone 1 while Victoria Park is Zone 2…. so I thought I’d be really clever and walk to a Zone 2 station and get the tube from there.

Lol, idiot!

That was a mess… and I should have checked everything in advance to avoid the bullshit that happened…

I consider it self-improvement that I DON’T check everything in advance anymore (that means I’m less neurotic, right?) but sometimes… :sigh:

Right, so I walked to this Zone 2 Underground which was Camden Road but it turned out to be Overground not Underground – whether that means it’s more expensive, I really don’t know. Then, I realise there’s no direct route to Victoria Park from Camden Road so… I should have changed at a particular stop but realized too late and ended up in.. Hackney!

By the way, Hackney is like an entirely different planet…

Anyway….

So then from Hackney, I walked to the Park which took me about 30 minutes. That’s not bad considering how long it took me to get back..
.
I was already late for the fireworks because of not going straight from Kings Cross and cursed myself because I basically thought I’d missed it all. But thankfully they were late setting up do I was right on time.

However, there was no bonfire, just fireworks, and they only lasted about 20 minutes. Like, I was expecting more, London. The North shouldn’t be able to out-do you but tbh I’ve seen better up North. I’m not sad I went though…. Y’know I think they did a good job because they were clearly trying to do something… “artistic” rather than just “boom boom whiz bang pop” ‘cause they had this whole space theme with space-themed music playing and fireworks that were like shooting stars and supernovas. And there was even a spaceship which had this astronaut climb down from it. So, yeah, they were trying to do something clever but… people didn’t really appreciate that. People came for the boom boom whiz bang pop.

So I’d gone through this long-ass journey for 20-minutes of… performance art. Which is ok, I don’t regret it, I just regret my lack of efficiency ’cause the walk back – jesus! I was considering getting a tube train if I came across one which I thought I would because they’re everywhere in London, right? But it was dark and my GPS kept crapping out on me so… and I got lost like 5 times… and never came across an Underground so it took me about 2 hours to get back. The route was technically an hour but… ‘cause of getting lost etc it took twice as long. Man, that was horrible ‘cause it felt like forever and if my phone had died I would have been really fucked. I was so glad when I saw the hostel, lol!

London – Day 14: Pretty Girls

I’ve been feeling super lonely today… and kinda miserable. Like, I seem to be surrounded by pretty 20-something girls here in the London hostel I’m currently living at, which just reminds me I’m older and ugly.

I think pretty girls are so lucky because they literally can get anything/everything they want in life – not just from men but women too. Like, people “respond” to them, people want to be friends with them, to hire them for jobs, etc. Whereas if you’re ugly people prefer if you don’t exist or are not seen. It’s tough.

I feel like being ugly as a women can sort of ruin your life. I think of all the opportunities I would have had if I’d been pretty. Maybe I wouldn’t have been treated like shit by every guy I dated, maybe I’d be married now to a loving man who appreciates me (cuz I’m so gosh-darn pretty!).

Men worship pretty girls but punish ugly ones. And make-up can only do so much, y’know? Make-up serves to enhance the beauty of pretty girls, but I put on make-up and look like a tranny or just gross.

And it doesn’t matter for guys, y’know, like they don’t have to be good-looking. These days, super-good-looking women date ugly-looking dudes because – beats me! Cause pretty girls are deep-down insecure? I don’t know! But it’s annoying. I mean, if super-good-looking women are dating fat, ugly old men, what’s left for us ugly women? Ugly, old, fat, drug-addled, alcoholic abusers? And even those guys think they deserve the best looking women and punish other women for not being perfect.

I envy pretty girls, they have no idea how wonderful their lives are just because they were blessed with decent genetics.

I feel like I need some chocolate ice cream right now…