… at being basic. I follow trends & am obsessed with social media, which are like the 2 biggies to being a basic betch. And of course we all know that fall is the quintessential glory time to be basic.
IT’S SO EASY RIGHT NOW.
So here I am.. about to give you my five super not-so-secret secrets on how to be your most basic & fabulous self this fall season. And no, it does NOT include drinking pumpkin spice lattes *cue the riots*.
I’ll just take that as a yes. I decided to take a slight turn in my blog and brand as I am interested in more than just bashing f***boys and talking about my life experiences (hard to believe, I know).
Contrary to popular belief, I ALSO like wearing cute clothes, stuffing my face and then working out to burn off what I ferociously stuffed into my face hole.
Can I just say that I miss the 90s and early 00s SO MUCH!? *preach hands emoji* Don’t get me wrong.. I love having social media and a cell phone and internet but I also miss the fact that I had memorized about 10 people’s phone numbers and that I knew that eye contact is, in fact, not awkward.
I thoroughly believe that it should be a standard for a human being’s existence to have to work in service industry for AT LEAST a year. Like.. if you haven’t worked in service industry.. I don’t trust you.
Do you ever just see people that treat wait staff like butthole for their own inflated, egotistical entertainment and wanna slap them in the face with a cactus?
Listen humans of the Earth.. I do not want to sit here and act like I am this almighty woman wizard (I wish tho, amirite!?) that has the magic ability to teach all men how to stop being so flippin’ stupid..
When my ex-boyfriend and I broke up, I tried so so so frickin’ hard to sit there and think about how it is NOT the end of the world to be single again at my age. I mean, at first I really was upset. Especially since I lived with this guy and honestly thought I would be with him for the rest of my life (lol).
No, trust me. I would whole heartedly rather drown myself in chocolate covered raisins (those sneaky bastards) than tell you how alone and boyfriend-less I am. But that is exactly why I’m here: to embarrass myself in a sort of sick, twisted self-torture kinda way.