Yesterday my friend and I were walking out of Forever 21 and the wind blew my skirt up a little. I had shorts on underneath (for this very reason) but two guys in a parked car saw it happen and yelled at me to lift it more, I yelled back, “fuck you!” and they laughed. So I took my pocket knife out of my bag and said, “I will slash your fucking tires” and they did not laugh
“One day, he’s going to know. He’ll know your birthday, your middle name, where you were born, your star sign, and your parents names. He’ll know how old you were when you learned to ride a bike, how your grandparents passed away, how many pets you had, and how much you hated going to school. He’ll know your eye colour, your scars, your freckles, your laugh lines and your birth marks. He’ll know your favourite book, movie, candy, food, pair of shoes, colour, and song. He’s going to know why you’re awake at 5am most nights, where you were when you realised you’d lost a good friend, why you picked up the razor and how you managed to put it down before things went too far. He’s going to know your phobias, your dreams, your fears, your wishes, and your worries. He’s going to know about your first heartbreak, your dream wedding, and your problems with your parents. He’ll know your strengths, weaknesses, laziness, energy, and your mixed emotions. He’s going to know about your love for mayonnaise, your dream of being famous when you were five, your need to quote any film you know all the way through, and your fear of growing older. He’ll know your bad habits, your mannerisms, your stroppy pout, your facial expressions, and your laugh like it’s his favourite song. The way you chew, drink, walk, sleep, fidget and kiss. He’s going to know that you’ve already picked out wedding flowers, baby names, tiles for the bathroom, bridesmaid dresses, and the colour of your bedroom walls. He’s going to know, get annoyed at and then accept that you leave clothes everywhere, take twenty minutes to order a Starbucks, have to organise your DVD’s alphabetically, and check your horoscope… just incase. He’ll know your McDonald’s order, how many sugars to put in your tea, how many scoops of ice cream you want, and that you need your sandwiches cut into triangles. He’s going to know how you feel without you telling him, that you need a wee from a look on your face, and that you’re crying without shedding tears. He’s going to know all of it. Everything. You, from top to bottom and inside out. From learning, from sharing, from listening, from watching. He’s going to know every single thing there is to know, and you know what else? He is still going to love you.”—
Let me tell you, having a cold AND being on your period is a marvelous combination for restful sleep.
In opposite world, land of insanity.
My nose is obnoxiously stuffed up, my back is causing immense pain, and my hormonal brain is steadily relying on hulk rage monster to deal with it. And all my angry, pessimistic mind can think is “I still have 20-30 more years of this monthly bullshit?!”
For those of you that don’t know, last night a football player got a little excited in a post-game interview. Actually, he got a lot excited. I, too, was a little shocked at first. Usually these interviews are boring cliche-filled yawn fests. I…
This story is pissing me off. Just for the sheer fact that’s it’s a story. The dude sealed the game for his team, let him be pumped up. And he did it against a player who talks a lot of smack, specifically to him. Let him have this. And let’s admit what it is: white people being uncomfortable with black people.
5. The opening scene of the premiere. Though I suspect it will be widely reported before airing (Hannibal‘s TCA press tour day is Sunday, where it will probably come up), I can’t bring myself to reveal this. I’ll just say it’s the best scene the show has done to date.
We can 100% confirm that you will 100% scream when you see the first scene…