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Ocean’s 11! Sabotage! Breaking into things! Hot people! Not that I’ll be doing any of those things, but I’m in close proximity to the people who do them! Yay!
“Mind if we join you for an appetizer?” “Apertif?” Shanna says, though she laughs. “I think that’s what you meant.”
In Vegas, if they put you in beige, you are seriously fucked.
I’m a goddess right now; everyone should come and offer gifts of chocolate and mojitos. That’s my currency.
Okay, maybe I’m a little drunk. But who cares? I’m awesome.
When I get nervous, I go straight to Renaissance Faire speak. It’s just easier to handle reality when I imagine I’m in a corset with a turkey drumstick, I guess. Heh. Drumstick. I’m going to hell.
“But I’m a hobbit. We believe in second luncheon. Where should I meet you guys?”
Then she slaps my ass. Our friendship is deep and true.
Benedict Cumberbatch is my favorite Holmes, so I’m right with you there.”
I can’t remember what bar this is. I just remember a sign that had a neon cowboy throwing a lasso around a woman’s leg, and I thought, That’s where I need to be.
Is this legal? Abso-fucking-lutely not. But tequila, man. Tequila’s a helluva drug.
Fuck this self-reflective moment. I’m having an adventure right now.
Why the fuck am I thinking about Deadpool so much? Besides the fact that that movie is perfect, I mean.
