When I do it, shit goes to hell. The other day I tried drinking two ice coffees and my throat clenched up. I dribbled all over myself, pretty much looking like a half-asian with down-syndrome (most days I just look like a retard).
What happened to my swallowing capabilities?? I can only think of a few ways to exercise my pharynx? No. I lied–just one way. But it usually involves spitting.
I hate giving up my seat on the subway. I usually have my earphones on or my head in a book so the elderly or pregnant won’t guilt me to give up my seat. I’m know I’m an ass, and decided to be a more considerate person.
So when I looked and saw my 9th Street Espresso Coffee, just hanging out on the floor—my heart melted. Just look at the sleek logo against a black background….CHIC. This coffee is the elite of the elite and deserves to be elevated on a pedestal!
So the other day I went to Brooklyn to bitch with one of my best bitches over coffee. But which topics to bitch about? That being self-employed holds no benefits when tax time comes? Apartment hunting ? The antiquated ritual of marriage? Working in a job that is under staffed? The negatives of having a boyfriend? the shit weather in the city and how mother nature seems really pissed off? Or the New York dream of buying a $600,000 1-bdrm apartment—-in Brooklyn?
This whole experience made me realize something significant- Bitching is the new calm, calm is the new crazy, and women who are blissfully happy are psychopaths.