Filed under narcissism
Tagged as narcissism
I somehow convinced my very accomplished brother-in-law, owner of MaxWeb, to design an Unapologetically Mundane sticker for me recently. There’s no point to it, obviously, except that it serves my vanity in ways that simply linking to my posts in my Facebook profile never could.
So if you’d like me to send you some stickers to plaster all around whatever podunk town you live in, please e-mail me at plumpdumpling at unapologeticallymundane.com with your address. Or if you just want one for your creepy (but in a hott way) shrine to me, also e-mail me at plumpdumpling at unapologeticallymundane.com with your address.
I pass these barriers every day after work on my way to Kamran’s apartment, and I never could figure out why they creeped me out until I realized the other day that
ONE OF THEM IS CALLING MY NAME. Albeit backward.
Filed under narcissism
Tagged as narcissism
Ever since the great Mac-out of February ’09, I’ve been thinking about having a second computer just in case my Mac ever truly dies on me. I didn’t want to spend the money on a new Apple when I barely spend any time on my laptop, and I didn’t want to own some clunky ten-pounder that would be too much of an eyesore to enjoy using.
And then I found this:
The Dell Mini, a 10″ beauty with a faster processor, more RAM, and more hard drive space than I have on my 12″ Mac. And this envelope case, which tells the world how much I love letter-writing despite my 3000+ unread Gmail messages.
It’s so tiny that I can carry it everywhere and so self-important that it won’t notice when the big laptops make fun of it every afternoon at Starbucks. I haven’t actually, you know, turned it on yet or anything since receiving it on Saturday, but I know I love it just from its glittery finish.
Look at this fucking hipster is basically photos of all my neighbors in Brooklyn wearing their stupid 80s clothes and not brushing their stupid unwashed hair. As much as I love being a voyeur of it, I’m usually glad that I’ll never be featured on it, because that involves looking like this:
So rough and tumble!
and I look more like this:
So sweet and innocent!
But yesterday, the site posted this, which is basically the tattoo I’d get if I ever got a tattoo. Except that mine would include way cooler books, of course.
Yeah, I took honors English, and I want the world to know. My senior year, my honors English teacher told the whole class that I’d be the only one of us to score a perfect 5 on the AP exam. Boo-yah!
And then I got a 4 just like everyone else. But still!
Hi. Can anyone tell me what the hell is on my lens? And furthermore, how the hell I get it off? I can’t seem to physically rub it off the outside, which leads me to believe that something has infested the inside of my camera.
Don’t let the look on my cupcake face fool you. I am not a happy lady.
