La Fille Perisque

It wasn’t me.

That moment when you misspell something or it is grammatically incorrect and you immediately blame it on your friend that hacked your account or stole your phone.

It happens to me all the time.

It rained today.

So I lit a candle and cleaned my room.  It was perfect. I can’t believe I am about to go back to Iran tomorrow for two months. It’s like I am watching someone else’s life unfold in front of me.  Maybe I should pop some popcorn…

Avengers.

They need to add another verse to Jizz In My Pants about this movie.  I am excited.

If you think Iranian women are oppressed…

Clearly you haven’t seen their wedding dresses.

Over it.

Please don’t post your sappy clingy love posts on the internet and save them for your diary like the rest of us. Desperation is so unattractive. 

I am an intellectual.

If I was alive in the 1700s, I would like to think of myself as a very eligible bachelorette. Every girl does.  But then I remember that I live in modern times: I am neat, but I barely manage to clean my room once a week, and I have no idea how to cook.  I play an instrument like an amateur.  The only thing I am really good at is school, and lets face it, educated women weren’t as popular back in the day.  No, no, after much consideration, I do belong in this era because I am an absolute mess. 

Yes, I knew my taste in literature was bad.

By bad I mean naughty.  I am reading Fifty Shades of Grey.  85% completed and I still don’t know how I feel about it.  Let’s just say I’m definitely learning.