I was supposed to see a screening of a movie to which I was really really looking forward, and that turned into a fucking shitshow disaster fucking shitty nonsense. I was unhappy. To make up for wasting my time, my friend bought me some delicious fucking ice cream from Coldstone called Birthday Cake Remix. It has cake flavored ice cream, fudge, brownies, and sprinkles. It was fucking delicious. It was the highlight of my fucking week, except that I'm lactose intolerant, and ice cream makes me really fucking sick.
My brother finally uploaded some pictures of me. Only one of them is worth uploading. I'm making stupid faces in the others. I hate my face.
I finally bought a new under-eye concealer, and I got a pretty sweet deal on it. I got two for eight dollars, and the two set was the last one, and I snatched that bitch up. So I have two of these fantastic under-eye concealers which will last me for a pretty long time. It's in the Revlon Colorstay collection, so it matches one of my foundations. Just one.
So I have my boyfriend's birthday planned out somewhat. I'm pretty sure it will be a fucking disaster because his birthday is always a fucking disaster, and I officially hate birthdays. I fucking hate them. I used to like birthdays. No more. Fuck birthdays. I really, really don't want my birthday to happen. And I don't want to deal with my boyfriend's birthday being a fucking disaster. And I'm just angry about this fucking birthday bullshit fucking birthdays fucking hate.
Seriously fucking birthdays.
Here is a picture of my dogs being precious:
Pierre and Domino. You can view more from the photog here. He insists.