it's what's for dinner, dammit

if there's a sexier green than kale, i'm pretty sure you're making that up. nothing is sexier than kale.

let me twitter dat

i've invented separated replies. i'll detail how they work once i find out if it's a good invention. stay tuned world.

fun thing to do

it's time to just accept the way facebook and twitter make you feel like a stalker and have fun with it.

sometimes when i see somebody posted something "a couple of seconds ago" i text them right away with a reply to whatever they posted. it's pretty hilarious. they're all like "my god, he's stalking me!" and i'm like "haha. classic me."

we should all do it. but don't acknowledge the funny stalker aspect. just do it enough so that when you finally see that friend in person they give you a smile and a O_O.

let's make everything awkward.

100 miles and running

i feel like i should write something here. i have a bunch of fotos of food i've eaten on saturday during the past year, and i suppose i could post them here, but that wouldn't be all that satisfying to me. maybe if i spent time thinking of clever captions for each of the pictures then it might be satisfying. nah prolly wouldn't be satisfying.

i regularly forget how old i am nowadays. i don't know what that's a product of. it reminds me of a time in high school during a dance, a girl came up to me and asked if i wanted to dance, and i said yes. we started dancing and then started awkward dance talking. she asked what grade i was and i forgot i was a sophomore so i said "freshmen". she said she was a junior. she left me soon after that. i'm sorry if i hurt your feelings, girl. i think you were asian. you were prolly asian. in any case, your judgement of my age when you had worked up courage to ask me to dance was correct enough, i think.

cheers to another year. let's eat somewhere.

how i got over

i go to chipotles a lot.

a lot.

but i always get the burrito bowl.

you should know why.

alright, enough with this one line shit, paragraph's here, and i've brought a friend. anytime i've gone to chipotle, or any mexican place for that matter, i've always wanted to get a burrito or taco but couldn't. and i would tell myself that i would go back to these mexican places during a cheatday and pig out, and get it out of my system. i was sure that one time would be enough and that i could just get over it. it wouldn't be as good as i made it out to be in my head.

i was sure of it. today i made it a priority to get in a burrito before cheat day ended. chipotle, carne asada, cheese, guac, sour cream, and corn. i brought it home with an hour left, and was already preparing my "i'm over this shit" speech. this shit was not ready for me to bring my pimp hand of judgment upon its foil wrapped self.

damn.

it was flippin delicious.

what does it all mean