Strawberry Margaritas to go, please!
So, if 92% of people with lung cancer die within the first two years of diagnosis, I should
probably quit smoking. On top of that, after having a lovely dinner last night with my fashionista peeps, I had an uncontrollable urge to smoke, smoke, smoke. So I went outside, dragged my face off, came back inside and proceeded to chew big bunches of gum, cover myself in smelly girl-goodness, and sit in smoke-filled shame. This has
got to end. Got to, got to. Any ideas? I'm already officially off meat, can I kick the cigs too?
Speaking of los fashionista ladies, the girls wanna try out Brooklyn for a night out this weekend. I will live in fear until that day comes, because the boys I've been rolling with are most likely going to sorta maybe eat them alive. A little.
2005-08-11 | 11:27 a.m.
