Nicole Richie is the patron saint of this blog.
a story from my dad the lawyer
when my dad was in his mid 20s and just starting out as a lawyer he had a client who was accused of being a pimp…the client asked him what he should wear to court and my dad says “just normal business clothes”
the man showed up in a lavender suit, alligator shoes, and an old school fedora with a feather in it
the jury convicted him in ten minutes
whenever i’m sad i like to imagine what possible crime Steve Irwin’s ancestor committed to warrant him being sent to Australia like some Victorian gentleman escorting a lady to the zoo past the crocodile enclosure and going “do you see that great wyrm sunning itself there? quite a striking creature, is it not? I do believe I shall engage it in fisticuffs.”
You know whats fucking scary? The fact that I could literally change my life at any moment. I could stop talking to everyone that makes me unhappy. I could kiss whoever i want. I could shave my head or get on a plane or take my own life. Nothing is stopping me. The entire world is in my hands, and I have no idea what to do with it.