Life’s short, Sawyer. Sometimes you have to take what you can get and make...– Wise words from my new favorite cheesy novel.
But what I didn’t want to have happen, and I made this clear to [A.D.]...– Urban Meyer
You don’t look like the kind of girl who goes to museums.– One of the gems I heard in South Tampa this weekend. I don’t even think you’d here something this douchey on the Sunset Strip.
Arguing with Mia over eating candy at night
Mia: I just want one piece of chocolate!
Me: Nope, it's too late. If you're hungry, have some fruit.
Mia: But I just want one little piece!
Me: No, that's not real food.
Mia: Techinally, anything is food as long as it's edible.
Me: Go to bed.
Me: Yes, I'll take a shot of tequila, but it has to be halfway decent. Jose Cuervo at the very least.
Marge: No, Patron. We're not fucking around here.
What?? Nickelback’s a GREAT band!!– My house at Thanksgiving.
How to embarrass yourself at your father's office:
Dad's co-worker/possibly also his boss: Nice to meet you Brittany! You must get your looks from your mom's side. (insert hearty-and-pleased-with-himself laugh)
Me: Yes, but shhhh... Simon's not my real dad.
I’m going to make myself less pissed off about paying this bullshit street cleaning parking ticket by telling myself I’m donating money to West Hollywood. Because other than the 6 different street cleaning times in a 3 block radius that I’ll never remember, I really like living in this neighborhood.
I had zero hangover today.
Maybe it was all that water I chugged. Or maybe it was the nest of angel hair pasta and butter I whipped up while drunk. I’m going with the pasta.
That time you've been drinking way too much red...
Hey look at… oh, I’m sorry. I’m talking to you while...– Me to Mike, while I let him be a dude for a few moments before I show him more pictures of food online.
And the employment counselor looks like Joan...
This place will not help me find a job.
That was my first time using a computer!– Man in the unemployment office. Help. Or bring me a huge ass cup of coffee.
My space heater has been on for almost 4 hours,...
If Lord Michael— our new British property manager who conveniently forgot that I asked him to repair our dryer 2 weeks ago— doesn’t get the heating people over here, get my front door light fixed, and have the dryer repaired ASAP, I’m having him sent back to the Queen’s country for beheading. I’m also revoking his lordship.
The secret is the bacon grease. And never let the butter get too far away from...– I need a triple bypass from watching Paula’s Best Dishes. Also, her guest is crying she’s so thrilled about the damn sausage gravy.