Pants
An ode to pants.
I miss pants. I can’t remember the last time I wore real, normal-length, non-shorts pants. My jeans look forlornly at me from the closet like abandoned friends.
Summer needs to die.
An ode to pants.
I miss pants. I can’t remember the last time I wore real, normal-length, non-shorts pants. My jeans look forlornly at me from the closet like abandoned friends.
Summer needs to die.
September 4th, 2007 at 6:17 pm
Summer needs to have an overdose and choke to death on its own vomit.
Summer needs to fly itself into the side of a mountain.
Summer needs to catch a heart attack.
Summer needs to go missing, only to be found later by its parents in a basement with a paintbrush garrote around its neck.
I am so, so, so goddamn sick of this weather, and it’s entrenched. I sit here at night, fans blowing, and dream of a crisp fall day.
September 6th, 2007 at 11:09 pm
I can’t wait for cooler weather so I can wear underwear again.. *runs for cover*