I need “don’t tell your mother about scam job offers” tattooed on my forehead.
“Why don’t you just see how far it goes in case it’s legitimate?”
BECAUSE IT’S A FUCKING SCAM. THERE IS NOTHING LEGITIMATE ABOUT IT.
chotai replied to your post: if you had to do one for the rest of our life: fuck or make love?
2-3 MINUTES OF HER LIFE HAHAHAHAHA
I WAS FUCKING THERE. Louie, Patrick, and I thought we were going to get murdered. In our heads we KNEW that yelling guy was just a diversion for shotgun guy.
SPOILER ALERT: THERE WAS NO SHOTGUN GUY. Galesburg is just full of people who live to create situations like this.
OH GOD AT THIS POINT I’D TAKE EITHER
but since I’m a hopeless romantic I’d have to choose make love. There really needs to be an emotional component for it to be an enjoyable experience for either party.
- Get the fuck out of here. There’s an ever-so-slight possibility I’ll land a paying job before moving, but if not, I’ve got to leave. It’s stifling here, it’s awful, etc. In June I’ll be in Kansas (SOMEONE COME VISIT ME PLEASE) and after that, who knows? Maybe I’ll just pack a bindle and hop on a freight train.
- Weed on occasion, but nothing else, because I’m terrified of what would happen re: my terribly fucked up mind.
- Blueberries in a pie, apples otherwise. Honeycrisp is my current preferred variety.
- The bathroom? Preferably one in my current residence? If it has to be in public, the handicapped stall. I’m THAT GUY.
what’s the story behind your tumblr name?
This is a secondhand (or third) story.
Basically, in Galesburg, IL (where I live and went to school) when one goes on a liquor run, one goes to Discount Liquor. So that’s the URL.
The “Ain’t Hit You” comes from a time some friends went to Discount, and encountered a man on his cellphone. He allegedly yelled two things of note into that phone:
- “Bitch, I ain’t hit you!” (So there’s the blog name)
- “Bitch, I’m on my way to Discount Liquor, ho!”
So that’s the story. It isn’t that funny, but since we were fairly inebriated at the time it was the funniest story imaginable. I didn’t want to keep my actual name attached to this, and that was the first thing that came to mind.