My name is Brandi. I'm mid-twenty-something, from Texas, but living and loving in Chicago.
Warnings and Notes
This blog will contain:
Explicit language (I curse like a sailor)
Explicit images (I like porn and naked bodies of all shapes are beautiful)
More Henry Rollins
Fangirling of Epic proportions (Music is my lifeblood)
Fangirling of epic proportions about Henry Rollins
Random philosophizing (about music, people, sex and life)
Pretty, Shiny Things (animal, vegetable, mineral and metaphorical)
Sex positive commentary
The occasional Pete Wentz
The crowd for #phish is colorful, to say the least.
Kali digs the bedroom view. To be fair she’s had the kitty equivalent of Xanax, and is kind of really high right now.
I have too much stuff. Or rather, my furniture is too big.
OFFICIALLY A PROFESSIONAL AND ALL THAT JAZZ.
There’s a fridge in the living room of my new apartment. (Living room and kitchen are one room, tbf) but I am strangely ok with that.
Platonic lady snuggles and Pringles farts. Goddamn were drunk.
Today my littlest sister, Brooklyn (@lilcountrygirl02), turns twelve. I am suddenly very old and she’s growing up into a gorgeous, silly young lady. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
(That top left photo is my favorite thing in existence, FYI. There is no product in her hair. It did that all on its own)
If by ‘fuck the police’ you mean fuck the corrupt, prejudiced, racist system then yes, fuck the police, but if you mean fuck the police for stopping you from smoking weed and getting away with illegal behaviour then no, fuck you.
But what if I mean “I wish to have intercourse with that man in uniform”
then fuck the police