mean jeans, born on a saturday night
doing my best impression of a burrito
tea & oatmeal
rereading the YA novels of my youth (hint: this one has a hot ranchero ghost that says querida all swoonworthy all the time)
all while listening to dumb punk about rippin it up
ps. do not have a pet rat, that is the stuff of dreams
yesterday i had an existential crisis from listening to the ‘mats.
mel tells it like it is
this one goes out to my dad, who has never been afraid to wear flowers on his hat with his kids.
robyn and röyksopp, monument
robyn robyn robyn
dance queen of my heart
can’t believe i missed my chance to buy tickets to see you
the mats covering another girl, another planet
if i’m only going to post once every few weeks, it might as well be something really good, right.
i joke about fat cats being my role models but this lady is the real deal
emerging from the haze of tonsillitis