My weekend consisted of plundering this like a drunken pirate:
pretty sure a pair of jeans, yoga pants, 3 shirts, and an athletic jacket for $96 is highway robbery in most countries, so thanks for letting me pillage your petticoats, Gap.
My weekend also consisted of regulating on some certain men who I made clean up before they made a late, late night trip to Waffle House.
I didn’t go to Waffle House, but the joke is on them, because this happened:
Boom. Lounging in the same clothes you’ve worn off and on for about 72 hours straight is so much more rewarding when 1) you know you’re a size 6 in Gap jeans and 2) you aren’t hungover, cursing that Oktoberfest white wine you finally opened. Then you can be all like,
in this case, “some hood shit” consisted of eating entirely too many thin mints and caramel delights and saving $20 on a $78 purchase at Target. All while managing to not shower for the entire weekend.
If that isn’t hood for my neck of the woods, I don’t know what is.