I Haven’t Had Botox Because My Face

I'm Proud Of What I Write And Feel Endorsed By My Readers.

Here's How It Is: I Feel Guilty About Every Single Bite Of Food That Goes Into My Mouth.

I Still Get Awful Depression. It's Who I Am.

Failed Relationships Can Be Described As So Much Wasted Make-up.

I Love Prada. Not So Much The Clothes, Which Are For Malnourished Thirteen-year-olds, But I Covet, With Covety Covetousness, The Shoes And Handbags. Like, I Love Them. If I Was Given A Choice Between World Peace And A Prada Handbag, I'd Dither. (i'm Not Proud Of This, I'm Only Saying.)