as another bras and ranties birthday approaches we are once again struck with life’s propensity to throw us curve balls made of bullshit and bitches in the days leading up to our most favored celebration. every year something of the sort goes down, a rather cruel joke to play on a self-absorbed scorpio. for it’s true, we believe no day superior to our birthday. why be so shy in loving a day that’s purely yours?
alas we suppose this awards the chi-gods some sort of karmic equilibrium allowance the week before. but dear fuck things could be going better. health, wealth, clients, blogette v2.0, it’s all a mess.
whatever.