there are concrete dealbreakers, & then there's this.

i know many of you know this, but i think it bears repeating:

ladies, men are not DIY projects.

under the butterfly bush

i have no idea what i'm doing here. raptors aside, i've never been birds' biggest fan. i despise pigeons so much that sometimes (especially when they're sullying my car) i secretly want to punt those rats with wings. this morning's different though. i'm sitting on the grass in suburbia, inwardly rooting for a bird's survival.

love letter

dear xxxxxxx,
   i hate your face. goodbye forever.

sincerely,
me

hazard

a day comes along, & you're blind-sided. you are betrayed. you can never go back. your image of the person in whom you've so deeply believed--it's never the same. you can never get the answers you want nor find the closure you need. these are the risks of loving.

Star Trek Into Darkness, reviewed

granted, first impressions require time. they must be digested, tempered. however, i do wish to offer one finely tuned, nuanced thought on the film:

my wrists hurt

because i punched the door.

fleshectomies.

boobies.

(warning: *possible-NSFW/TMI selfie a bit after the jump)