lisamariecorso lisamariecorso

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Lisa Marie Corso  ✏️ Word nerd & yes, my parents named me after Elvis' spawn. It could have been worse right? At least my name isn't Apple

http://lisamariecorso.com/

As a writer I am not meant to endorse the use of 'literally' but this meme is literally the story of my life. Like literally. I'm not meant to write like a Valley Girl either, but yolo. (Pretty sure I can't say that either.)

2017 marks 26 years of adding the following phrases to our lives: 'It's your turn to empty the dishwasher!'; 'Can you pick me up? I'm drunk.'; 'Lisa, I know you stole my jar of organic tahini.' Respect to my no. 1 home slice and sister JoJo πŸ‘―

TFW your bestie texts you about her prep class and a story about her 5-year-old student 'Henry' who has LIFE 100% SORTED and you're 28 and still trying to figure it out. #hollaforadollar πŸ™‹

I JUST FEEL LIKE IT IS VERY IMPORTANT YOU ALL SEE THIS PERFECT IMAGE OF DIANE KEATON IN HAMPTON WHITES AND THAT I TELL YOU THIS URGENT NEWS IN CAPS. I AM NOT PRONE TO OVER EXAGGERATION.

☎️ The 1970s called, they want their feminist geography teacher back. Last seen somewhere between a Gloria Steinem lecture and Uniqlo.

True or False: Did these three just march or did they create the perfect female orientated Mount-Rushmore-style photoshop illusion? #internationalwomensday

May Selena Meyer guide you this International Women's Day. πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»πŸ™ŒπŸ»

Lisa Marie Corso, Smaller in Real Lifeβ„’.

'Shattered dreams, promises and snacks', Artist Unknown. Smith St, Collingwood 2016. A poignant piece of public art commenting on the fragility of life at 3pm when the cravings are high and the snacks are low. Saladas, Jatz and trail mix were sacrificed in the making of this candid portraiture and the artist could be heard in the distance hysterically screaming: 'Damn you, hyperglycaemia!'

πŸ‘€ The BAD news I can't style a photo to save myself, the GOOD news is I wrote about @honey_fingers in @gourmettraveller and can now tell you bees are very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very important. I can also tell you if don't have that posh wooden honey dipper in your kitchen you can improvise with a corkscrew or fork and look like a hardcore Nigella in the process. 🐝

...even Meryl knew who the real winner was and wore this moonlit Elie Saab number to match. Until next year, Awards Season Meryl. πŸŒ›#cantfightthemoonlight

Remember that time I climbed an actual mountain by myself in Japan, then I saw a grandma did the same with a pram carrying her two dogs dressed as cheerleaders and it undermined my VERY existence? That was a cool time for me and my ego. Respect.

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