The news about my death are slightly overrated. I am fully alive and have been renovating my new home. Two months in a row every weekend (except fabulous New York) we have chilled at building supplies stores, looking at youtube videos "How to..." and actually managed to fix up our new place.
This goes out to all my ex boyfriends or other weird stalkers reading this:
I AM SO HAPPY AND MY LIFE IS BRILLIANT! My job is brilliant, my boyfriends is sexy, I own a home and my fart does not smell!
Okay, got that off my chest, now let me show you my home!
The Soviet era pearl taken into modern times
or
painted all the errors over with a extra thick layer:
The floor my generation loves and my grandfather's generation hates:
Special thanks goes out to Otti and Sons furniture company:
Beware! I'm planning to become the George of the Jungle,
taking care of plants before babies:
Da lääonž eeria:
Game of Thrones + scented candles + more booze than should be allowed
=
a bloody perfect evening:
Play that funky music white boy:
Look at this hipster decoration:
And the area we actually spend time in,
I don't even know what are the other rooms for?
Adult life rules!
Waffles for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
This is the original Netflix and chill moment:
Black hill is cool, yo: