The Stupidest Marketing Advice EVER–Exposed Like a Naked Baby
When my mom died, I was 21 years old. By Christmas time of that year, I had met a boy. Not just any boy, but a boy whose mom had also died. So, like, we had stuff in common. Except he had a tattoo with her name. Talk about making me feel like an asshole. I mean–I certainly didn’t have a tattoo. Fuck, I barely knew where her ashes were in the midst of my year-long shock and haze. I
Nov 21, 2011