whitney’s bf writes for True Blood. i know!

after True Blood’s finale they went to Paris and we were all oooooo bro’s gonna pop the question to you.

so on top of the Eiffel Tower he gave her a loose diamond and said “no girl should leave the Eiffel Tower without a diamond”. when she came home with that story we were all no ring? no proposal? she was all, yeah. we were like ummmmmm okayyyy?

new years eve when they passed by the coffee shop where they first met bro got on his knee and put a ring on it.

we all found out via facebook

lots of labels “disable” the embed codes of their artists vids on youtube.

dumbest thing ever if you wanna spread your jams.

would record labels have figured out ipods and itunes if steve jobs wouldnta beat em to it?

hell no. yet they run around pretending that theyre doing something good by locking their videos up at one url instead of letting bloggers and others run what basically amounts to free commercials on their highly influential and conversational outlets.

rock n roll will never die, but hopefully these practices will.

not sick sick like puking or coughing

but ive got a runny nose and i dont feel very good.

yet im going to take a hot shower and go to work so they know i love em

i really wish i had a Sars mask.

meanwhile i have a message to all the women i know who feel the urge to stop blogging, or shut down their blogs, or shut down their twitter or facebooks,

instead of shutting down their boyfriends and/or ex-boyfriends who are making them miserable:

why are the smartest girls so un-smart when it comes to men?

its like they have this stone in their shoe and instead of pulling it out and whipping it as far into the ocean as they can, they somehow believe that that stone is part of them and they beat themselves up for not learning how to walk better with that stupid thing stuck to them.

when dinner is over you get up and leave.

when your shower is over you get out and leave.

when a relationship is over, you move on, just like how you do with every other part of your life.

its just like Hoarders, except youre now afraid/ashamed/sad about throwing out your trash that you keep pretending is something else.

that stone wants to be in the ocean, so send it there.