Nunca Pasa Nada
My name is Sarah Lee and I highly identify with the lifestyle of a stray kitty. I am a self-deprecating narcissist. Art history, music, dogs, cats, miscellaneous cute shit, fwiends, fucking shit up yadda yadda yadda, blah blah blah.

Ask me anything

Theme


Theme made by Max Davis.

“I love you”, I whispered into my baby food jar full of weed

the only reply was the idea of an echo

because the sentiment was directed towards the hash

nedhepburn: “What do you think about two guys fucking in a car?” asked James Franco.“Excuse me?”“Nothing. Nevermind,” he said. We were walking by the East River. He dropped his cigarette in a snow pile and it made a little pfffft sound. “What was that supposed to mean?” I asked.“Nothing, dude. Hey. Look. Did you see 127 Hours yet?” he asked, changing the subject.“Not yet, but what was that about two guys fucking in a car?” I asked.James Franco sighed and looked towards the river. “Nothing, dude. Don’t worry about it. I just wanted to know what you thought about two guys fucking in a car. That’s all. I didn’t mean anything by it,” he said. He wouldn’t make eye contact and hadn’t since we’d eaten Bahn Mi sandwiches an hour ago in Park Slope, in almost total silence. I’d known James Franco for only a couple of months but it felt like years. We were just friends, and he slept over once or twice a week and we would talk until the early hours of the morning about life and love. Never once had we tried anything. Heck, we were both straight. Totally straight. Like, mega straight. Titties are awesome, I thought to myself. He ran his finger through his beautiful million-dollar hair and put on his sunglasses.“That jacket looks really good on you,” he said. “Thanks, James Franco” I said. There was a long pause.“Hold on, let me take a picture,” I said, and took out my iPhone, opening the Hipstamatic app with ease. I stepped back to get the picture.“That one looked great,” I said. “Hold on, lemme take another.” I took a step backwards, failing to notice that I was stepping off the curb. James Franco moved in and grabbed the small of my back with both arms. “Gotcha,” he said, his face inches from mine. I could feel his hot breath on my cheek. “Thanks, man” I said. He stepped back and patted my arm.“Come on, man. Let’s go do really straight things,” he said. “Like look at titties and stuff”. “Yeah” I said.“Totally,” he said. “Because we’re totally straight” we said at the same time. He laughed. I laughed. We both laughed.