Feeling My Way Home

So, the other day at the bank, the cute teller girl gave me her number. Great way to start off your day.

I know I've been talking about blogging about southern hospitality. I know, I know. I'm lazy. Sue me.

Things I plan on purchasing once I fall into a large sum of money:

• a new iPhone.
• a new vehicle, probably a truck.
• an parking garage to longboard in.
• more longboards for said garage.
• a massive underground house.
• an ostrich as means of transportation in said house.

I went and saw Inglorious Basterds this weekend with some friends. Actually, it was my friends anniversary with his girlfriend, and he invited me to the movies with them. I was like, "Ok?". But....he and I had talked about going to see the movie when it came out, but he had also promised to go see it with his girlfriend. So basically, I'm tagging along on their evening anniversary date, haha. To be completely honest, it wasn't awkard at all, and I can say that with no sarcasm, whatsoever. I seriously forgot it was their anniversary. We were all just having a good time, friends hanging out at the movies, like you did when you were younger. Good times.

I hate when people say, "I don't mean to be a bitch, but..." or "I don't want to seem like a dick, but...". It doesn't soften the blow of dumbass-ness that you're about to lay on me.

If ya bum's leakin'....ya need to be seekin'...Roc-a-Pads.