Love story: WAITING FOR TACOS

Psst. these photos are all quality rated shit because of your best friend the iphone, yes, not so great now eh?

Look how much hotter I got once tacos came in to the equation.

I don’t care what girl haters say about me, the proof is in the man pudding opinions. Bitch I be strikin’. Sorry to make you feel threatened constantly.

And here is a picture of not trying. I am sorry to have to do this to you but you give me no choice, the more beef you give me the more casual hotness I’ma have to throw your way. I tried to be nice.

Beautiful blizzard out there. This is the type of romantic winter night that inspires days of writing for me.

It was worth the wait.

We eaves-dropped and both were eaves-dropped upon. Waiting at the caddy was gruesome, next time I will go at 6 when GE opens and mayhaps suffer being the #1 loser, that being the first in line on the wait list. They have line-ups GE told me and baby don’t wait in no blizzard line-ups. Nuh uh. We had two glasses (teach says 3) of whiskey each and a glass of Riesling each and 9 tacos to split as well as a pound of wings while waiting and other drinks too. Not bad for a Monday espesh when ya gotta case of ‘em riiiight? The Queso tacos aren’t worth it (fried cheese) which launched us into an unintelligible conversation about young cheese. DON’T GET ME STARTED ON YOUNG CHEESE. Kidding. But not really. Remember, I do happen to know everything.

The people who joined me on the pew at Caddy were also waiting for tacos. They agitated me as does plenty but only because we waited over an hour longer. Watching lushes drink and gab away at cadillac lounge skid row was only a minor solace. I liked our waitress, I think they know when you are waiting for tacos.

And before we left we marveled over the gap betwixt mine legs and the one pixel speck captured therein, my my what a fluke of joy.

During the day time I was quite productive in the workplace where outfits virtually do. not. matter. of fact.

And now here I am from some other day.

Here is possibly a real life still moment in time preceding or during some louse making fun of me or making commentary on the person what is me, attempting to discredit or what have you and meanwhile, here I am being a nice genuine guy, I’m just a person sharing their life remember. Why do you have to haterade masquerade? Why come Grandma?

I look bad? I think I am only going to look more interesting the more I age no matter how many people try to cut me down along my journey to the path of righteousness, you can not beat me down. I only say this stupid self-congratulatory shit when you start it remember. You started it dickface. You brought this on yourself, normally I just show and don’t tell. You send me hate mail and I reply to it punctured with SMOKING HOT photos of myself.

Or mediocre ones, whatever.

You are what you, are. The only things that can capture my current attention reflect my own self I feel and therefore, I like weird impressive shit and hold it up, share it, talk about it. There are no dark clouds in my world, I cannot stand for it so please just fuck off about your me-issues, seriously. You are sad. Whatever secret private amazing life you may lead or claim to, you are still leaving vitriol on a girl’s blog. That is sad. You took happy out of your day to do that. Ew.