Vices crisis

I'm going to start writing seriously again.


Because all I do is eff around.


And I'm losing my edge. Figuratively and literally.

Storybook Page

I just weighed myself and it said 120 exactly.


I don't trust home-cheap-azz scales. If that were true, my BMI has dropped to 18, which is underweight for my height bracket.......and my tumbly says something other than "underweight". Halfway joking.


Shopping for universities sucks as well. I can't find anywhere that feels right. Maybe I can just roll into a ditch, live there, and not worry about anything. Or become a janitor. That sounds good too.


Sup at chu, brown/orange/blond/creepily amazing hair?

Doesn't even matter

I am not a good Christian.


If that even matters anyway.



Actually....I can make a super long list of things I'm horrible at doing.

The list of "stuff Lauren is actually good at" is much, much shorter:

1.) Being sick.


THAT is all.

Four lil bacterias

How tf do you get a blister on a thumb knuckle? If something funky goes on bodily, I'm the inevitable victim. Sup at chu, unexplainable parasites?

These are the knitted version of whatever's floating around my stomach area:


^^^^^Wish I could do stuff like that. Arts and Crafts are my natural enemy.


Other than various diseases, life has had very much win in it lately.


AND HOW!

Hot glass

You just shake your head.

Silly, silly. No no no.

That's great, but it's fake.



Love Gabby:

Standing there.

Are you effing me?

Because if you are, I must kindly ask you to stop.

No seriously. Just go away.

And I never thought I would say this, but thank GOD for Dane Cook.