papaasaka

how avant-garde. give the artist a state pension!

french men in uniform...s'il vous plait!

i am in paris and i ate a chocolate macaron. it was good. all is well. that's all.

okay. cool.

it's 28 january and this bad boy just got chucked out. if only he could talk.

"it doesn't look very appetizing. it's pale." "the sauce is nice, trust me." "oh yeah. it is nice." "we got yoghurt for dessert." "okay."

'would you like to double your donation to our charity,' she asked. i closed my browser after i said 'yes'. choices, choices.

it's -3c and i wouldn't mind living in these uggs. i'll serve earl grey to whomever decides to drop by. got an extra room, anyway.

found this ancient treasure tonight and started reading it. after 3 years of reading on my kindle, holding this felt like a strange experience. i spent a few minutes fanning the pages close to my nose. i want that old book smell as my perfume.

p.

keep off hairy men, i say. they’re mine.

i turned around and got myself two tubs of greek yoghurt.

only jesus gives peace. my muji aromatherapy diffuser does it for me.

"i want it short, but not too short please...but no, you can cut more, yes, and the sides, just a little bit of difference, please."