In the last month there have been approximately 3 million things on my plate. In no way am I saying that those 3 million things are not on everyone else’s plate or that my plate is especially awful. But when they began avalanching over my lifeless body, dealing with them became near impossible. At least without
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I finally chose Planet Fitness to call my home gym! My decision was based mainly on price and location. Considering the membership I chose is $20 per month which includes bringing friends and family for free, tanning if I am feeling particularly cancerous, and is 1.5 miles from my doorstep, it seemed like a no
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Riddle: What’s fucking awesome and in your hand, in your pocket, on your desk, in your hand while you wee, on your face, on your ear, in someone else’s hand, on the floor, in your purse, and on the counter. Answer: It’s your cell phone, pervs. I can’t really consider myself a germaphobe but rather
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