A very funny blogger..
I smoke. I thought he was a tough guy, so I told him that I smoke. I was hoping it would make me look a little less, small, middle class white girl. It turns out he hates smoking. As he is now my boyfriend, I have to pretend to have given it up. So I’m now in imaginary recovery from an imaginary addiction. Only I can’t wear the nicotine patches, because then I would actually get addicted, would start smoking, and would have to quit – again.
I knew what a spit roast was. When asked if I knew, I obviously didn’t, and so replied with a disdainful “of course.” Having assumed an air of superiority, I couldn’t back down. So when asked if I’d done one, I gave another dismissive “of course.” Then I went home and Googled it.
I have hipster music tastes. I don’t…
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