whether it’s makeup, a band tshirt, your fandom pins, tattoos, jewelry, your favorite ripped pair of jeans, or something no one else can touch or see like your favorite song repeating like a mantra in your head, the sound of your own heartbeat, or the knowledge that you were brave enough to get out of bed today when everything else inside you said “no”
HOLY SHIT. MY NEIGHBOUR IS SCREAMING AT HER BOYFRIEND. Yeah, the two that keep me up at odd hours of the night. AND I’M ONLY PICKING UP BITS AND PIECES BECAUSE HE’S NOT SHOUTING BUT I’M FAIRLY POSITIVE HE JUST TOLD HER HE’S GAY AND THAT HE’S BEEN CHEATING ON HER WITH HIS BOYFRIEND.
UPDATE. UPDATE. HE’S CHEATING ON HER WITH HER BROTHER.
SON OF A BITCH IT’S LIKE A BAD SOAP OPERA EPISODE.
So my parents just found out about my fourteen year old brother smoking weed because they found this on his window ledge. So in the middle of a huge lecture my dad decides to open the Baggie and smell it to see how strong it is. He immediately starts crying with laughter. THIS NIGGA HAS BEEN BUYING AND SMOKING FUCKING OREGANO. FUCKIN ITALIAN HERBS. SON. I CAN’T. I CANNOT. I CAN’T DO THIS.
This isn’t funny. That’s the gateway drug to a full blown marinara addiction. It’s good this was caught before this kid started hanging out at Olive Garden and sucking on every breadstick he can find to score another hit.