I went to a music festival this weekend for work and we interviewed Trace Cyrus (formerly of Metro Station, currently still Miley Cyrus’ brother). After the interview, I decided to ask Trace a question of my own. I walked over to him and removed my sunglasses. Then we had the following conversation:

Me: Trace, I have to ask you… Do you think I look like your sister? I get told I do all the time.
Trace: Well… whoa, yeah, I guess kinda!

Case closed. I need to accept my fate, stop trying to change the things I can’t and move forward.

Anonymous asked: Have you ever let a boyfriend take naked pictures of you?

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. If nudity is involved anywhere in the photo, do not include the face. Or just go full monty, who the fuck cares.

Everything went wrong today. Work was a suicide zone, the place I went to for a haircut didn’t have me down in their books so I waited until 9 p.m. for a 6:30 appointment, someone pelted a full water bottle at me from a moving car as I was standing on the sidewalk, and my farts smelled like toxic fumes all day. To top it all off: Just spent the last 90 minutes unwinding by shopping online. Whiddled it down to two items at piperlime.com — a dress and a bag. Went to type in my credit card number and it wouldn’t let me in. Called customer service at 1:30 a.m. to purchase the items online. (I needed that bag. The dress was more of a throwaway.) Dude tells me because I tried logging in three times, the account locked me out. I go to give the guy my item numbers over the phone, dude says the bag is sold out. I’m like “Oh, is that why it’s not letting the order go through?” He says, “No, you actually have the last bag in your shopping cart but because you’re locked out, you can’t get in there to release it to me. Normally I would transfer you over to my tech department who would just unlock it for you, but they’re closed this late.”