p.s. with love

I love my relationship with my bed, no commitment, we just sleep together every night (and sometimes I sleep with the couch).

I’m not entirely sure why someone decided to leave a lipstick mark on the elevator mirror this morning. They thought it would be sexy?  Didn’t have a tissue to blot the excess? Wanted to give the cleaners something to do? They were practicing making out with themself? Art? I left a lipstick mark on Oscar Wolfe’s tombstone before they covered it up. And as awesome as I think he was I am a little grossed out by it. It reminds me of my favourite quote from Gone Girl:

Being the Cool Girl means I am a hot, brilliant, funny woman who adores football, poker, dirty jokes, and burping, who plays video games, drinks cheap beer, loves threesomes and anal sex, and jams hot dogs and hamburgers into her mouth like she’s hosting the world’s biggest culinary gang bang while somehow maintaining a size 2, because Cool Girls are above all hot. Hot and understanding. Cool Girls never get angry; they only smile in a chagrined, loving manner and let their men do whatever they want. Go ahead, shit on me, I don’t mind, I’m the Cool Girl.

Which is then followed by:

How do you know you’re not Cool Girl? Because he says things like: “I like strong women.” If he says that to you, he will at some point fuck someone else. Because “I like strong women” is code for “I hate strong women.”


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