in a word, soigne. and I bet the fags barely use that shtick these days.
all day I look at dresses and then I write nasty things about them. it's every boy's dream. right?
I'm quite evasive generally. I almost fear the outside world. thus the fact I am the colour of carnation milk. I think I'm getting thinner, even though that's pretty much impossible with my cracked-out battenberg-centric diet. I like tight things and big shoulders. in every sense of those words.
sorely lacking. and slacking. oh, this is hardcore.
that last line used to sound a lot cooler. maybe I'm getting old...