Tonight I learned that I can drive at least 60 miles with my gas light on. Volvo, y’all. Get you one.
I feel the knowledge of this fact will perhaps come in handy one day when I’m, I don’t know, really incredibly broke. Wait wait wait. That’s handy right now. Perfect. When will cars run on water? Tell me this. I mean, we can teach our cats to poop in the toilet and still we’re spending money to drive our cars. Something is wrong here.
It’s not so bad having no money. At least now I know what it’s like to live below the poverty line. Except not really since I’d have to be working as much as I do, making as little as I do and supporting a family of four to really know what it’s like. Perspective.
My dad suggested I apply for food stamps (truth). I think it’s his way of telling me I’m not getting any more money out of him. It’s ok because I’m busy holding on to this little ray of hope that Ralph and Weaz will hit it big on the internetz and we can all live happily ever after on their ad revenue. Weaz is working on her business plan as we speak.
What is even happening here? Is this blog about food?
That is the best pizza I think I’ve ever eaten… ever. It’s the Garden Fresh from Intermezzo and I wish I were eating it right this second. Right here in my bed. No pants.
I should really go to bed.
Anyway, yesterday I rode my bike around for a good hour and half humming that terrible “My City” song and looking like an idiot. I’m all YES CHARLOTTE IS THE BEST right now so just deal with it. Then I went to yoga, which was perfect, and we got that pizza, which was perfect, and I stayed up really late, which was also pretty perfect.
I’ve got it maaaaaade here and if I have.my.way I’m gonna staaaaay here. And I love it.
Sorry about that terrible song. It’s terrible, right? So terrible. Here’s the best damn song of your life to make up for it: