Photo by Noemi Gonzalez. At work a few weeks ago, I shamelessly asked my friend and coworker, Zoe, about a handsome lad she posted on Instagram. She happened to be passing by my desk and soon regretted making eye contact with me.
I am very proud to present the first trailer for our #SecretProject with Wired Elephant Studios. Stay tuned for more details. Enjoy. xoxo Robby Rob
You can call me an optimist, but I like to think I’m just hopeful. I find that losing yourself and finding yourself is one of the greatest human experiences we could ever endure. There’s something about self-awareness that fascinates me so much. You can also call me self-involved, but I like to think I’m just in touch with who I am.
If you’re as thirsty as I am, you would understand the frenzy that ensued on social media this morning as news spread that Tom Daley is gay.
Hey boo, my name is Robert Soares. I am an Arizona State University junior at the Walter Cronkite School of Journalism and Mass Communication, majoring in journalism and specializing in PR. I’m kind of a mess (an organized mess) who lives for pop culture and being a bad ass (girl, I’m strugglin’). I am in the process of writing a book titled, “Skittles for Breakfast” about my tragic high school love life and the people from my teenage years who have made me who I am today.
The following is an excerpt from a book I’m writing called, “Skittles for Breakfast”. Chapter Four: Hot Pursuit “You have really pretty eyes. I like the way they look when the sun shines on your face,” he said with that cheesy Disney Channel movie smile. I swallowed my first bite of cafeteria chicken wrap as he waited for my response from across the lunch table. “Shut up, don’t talk to me.” I told him sassily. (Sassily. A word I didn’t think existed until my word processor granted me the right to use it by sparing the red squiggly line of failure).
#1 When I was 12, she once got a guy who worked at the movie theater concession stand fired because he said to me, “Why do you have to be so difficult?” Excuse me sir, but there are three types of pretzels to choose from here and I can’t decide if I want something sweet or salty. In any case, it wouldn’t be the last time a man would say those exact words to me.
Flaunting a green sash around campus proved to be quite attention getting, something I endorsed to climb the ranks in the High School Hierarchy system. Throughout most of my childhood, I dreamed of one day being crowned Ms. America, but my dose of reality sunk in after my mother said it was inappropriate for an eight year old boy to be wearing high heeled shoes. I then told her that it was inappropriate to be wearing Mom Jeans at the age of twenty eight.
The following is an excerpt from the book I am writing called, “Skittles for Breakfast.” December has always been my favorite month. I even want to grace my first adopted daughter with the name DECEMBER and call her DESEE for short. Sounds ridiculous, but it’s not as bad as the name for my future second daughter, KACI, a name inspired by Kelly Clarkson’s first and last initials.
There is nothing more obnoxious than some attention loving drama queen walking around school on her birthday carrying fifteen hundred balloons (in various colors), a pink wand covered in glitter with a star attached to the top that reads “It’s My Birthday!”, while still managing to hold a pan of half eaten chocolate cake like the way a waitress would when bringing a platter to a table. Well, turns out this year, that bitch is me.