DON'T HAVE A CRAP ATTACK.

I’ll totally take that, Miss. Sloane Berry. Thank you, it’s not a sealed deal yet, but it should be soon.

Are you kidding? It’s defs gonna happen, and I can totally see you destroying the fashion game. I can’t wait to be your personal cheerleader from my front row seat.

Fun things to do when you have a paparazzi at your door waiting for you to get out of your apartment in the middle of the night: get your guitar and start singing an improvised song about their thirst for gossip to make them go away. 10/10 recommended.

I wish I possessed that kind of talent. I mean, I could go out any day and give the paps an One Night Only one woman performance of Sia’s greatest smashes but it’ll just end with a few shattered eardrums. I only really sing exclusively to my showerhead.

I have a slight problem when it comes to candles. Not that I care too much, but still. Anyways. I just bought thirty candles from Yankee Candle, and I’m paying close to $90 extra just to have them shipped to me right away. So,  you know, if my apartment burns down, it’s probably because the candles finally took over. At least the fire will smell nice. Who needs room in their home for food?

Who needs to be cremated “officially” when you can just do it in the space of your own home with twenty Apple Spice scented candles? Now That’s What I Call A Beautiful Way To Go, Volume Two.

Let’s get this out of the way… Yes, I’m aware that I’m six feet tall, I know that I look amazing, I do eat–contrary to popular belief, and no, you are not allowed to misgender me and not expect me to be a bitch in return. Did I miss anything?

You certainly know how to make a fantabulous entrance, lady. I’m impressed. 

That could actually be an interesting sight to see.

I’d probably end up looking a lot like Carrie after her pig’s blood extravaganza. Not cute.

Are you okay there, Sloane? Sounds like you had the time of your life there.

Any alone time I get with pasta is always a hella good time.

Are you saying your mission was to leave me speechless?

It’s never not my mission. I lowkey just love the look on your face whenever I do stupido things. It’s hilarious, and so I can not stop, and I will not stop.

What’s the, um … Science Side of school saying about how many cups of coffee would fit in an hour of sleep, if an hour of sleep were tangible like, maybe, a pie tin? If I get three hours and twenty-nine minutes of sleep, how many coffees and how many spoons of peppermint cream should I pack in my lunchbox? And then how about the benefits of cinnamon versus that spray can whipped cream, the kind that hisses when you use too much, you know? Is it true the air that escapes makes your voice go all high – because I don’t want to sound like a dummy.

You’d think a lady taking class in Math as a minor would be really good at trying to work out this kind of dilemma, but I’m stumped, I’m afraid. I did read on Buzzfeed the other day that you can’t really drink a crazy amount of caffeine otherwise you’ll die, so I’d just stick to a safe amount like three and one third of a cup but it’s your life. You do you, girlfriend. 

It sounds like everyone had a great time last night. While everyone was out partying I was at home being a total grandma and Skyped with my mom and dad. It sounds lame but I had fresh baked cookies and milk so I mean- who’s really the winner here?

You. Definitely you. PS: I totally need to steal your cookie recipe. My last baking experience ended with a boppin’ party with some firefighter lads, so obviously I’m doing something wrong.