So, Josh used his powerful good looks to move my Anatomy and Physiology exam to two weeks from now. I offered to repay him in sexual favours. He declined. It created a slight air of awkwardness, nothing more than we're used to seeing as I am desperately in love with that which cannot be mine...Young, Thin John Cusack.
Dear Mr. Cusack,
Why so Mick Molloy?
Yours sincerely,
Ainsley Reed
So I binged yesterday. I regretted it. Today I am surviving on a diet of protein shakes and food guilt that must rival that of the catholic variety. I can feel myself getting fatter. I pray I am blessed with an eating disorder soon...
Kim Basinger is a smoking hot babe. I think I look a little bit like her... and I'm probably the most humble person I know...
Mr. Finnigan did a poo that was all peas. It made me smile, which poos do not often do.
I vomited in my handbag on the train, not drunken vomit, sick vomit. A lip gloss lost its life, as did many a vicks vapordrop (butter menthol flavour not as good as regular butter menthols, which am i right, are the bomb?). Though I morn their loss, I find solace in the fact that my phone, wallet, keys and Glamour with Blake Lively on the cover managed to survive. Fast thinking on my part, not fast enough to save that strawberry Nivea though, god how it hurts, she was not long for this world, barely a month...sad face. Sad face indeed.
But i work through the pain. Yesterday, yes, it was a step back granted, but I'm only human.
Oh fuck! my test is this Monday! DAMN YOU JOSH! DAMN YOUR LOOKS!
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