exquisite

So last night was grand. Grand like a piano fuck. Dickwad, a.k.a. the boyfriend (yes, we're back together), nearly forgot it was my birthday. At 11:00 p.m. rather than saying "happy birthday" like most other people did, he said "so when I get paid what do you want for your birthday?" How sweet! Oh wait, that's right, that's NOT sweet. Asshole. I should make me a boyfriend birthday cake. I'm a little upset. I don't know why even. I never really care who remembers my birthday, especially since I forget about it myself... but for some reason that bothered me. A lot.

Oh well, at least I have chocolate milk to make me happy. Oh how I loves me chocolate milk. MoooooooOoOoOoOoooOooooooo. I'm a heffer.