What I heart: when I walk into the bathroom, interrupting the African homebody who's admiring his topless body in the mirror.
What I don't heart: when he takes the stall next to me and feels a need to make a production out of the process.

Today and yesterday have been a series of small dissapointments, so I decided the way to win today would be to wear a shirt that shows off my "FUCK" belt buckle. I saw Dom at dinner tonight-fuck he's hot. I think I'd give my left nut to snog him but then I remember wait no I wouldn't, not at all. Isn't it creepy that I'm talking about him and he'll never read this?

You know those little gadgets you can hook floss around? Them's the shit.