I don’t know much about design, but I do know this: rhinestones on cellphones are like Girl Scout badges but for shitheads.
Luckily though, my landlord handled the big stuff when redoing my apartment, and did a bang-up job. So indulge me while I take a second day to show off their work:
Not loving the new wood floors: Ricky, who can’t get any traction. I’m 16-0 in tug of wars.
However, with ice being his favorite food, Rick is loving a fridge with an icemaker.
My place was built during the Kennedy administration, and had all the original fixtures to prove it. Turns out scientists invented a third outlet prong.
These new blinds were my addition, and I love that they filter in light. But installing them was a bitch, as my drill couldn’t penetrate the metal frame. When my wrist heels, I’m going to break it when I never stop punching the president of Redi Shade in the face.
At 3 a.m., exhausted and filthy from moving back in, stepping underneath a rain shower head is what I imagine heroin feels like.