Her hands were garlic breadsticks of action. Her face was a Cesar salad of expression.
I’ve decided I want a sad funeral. None of this upbeat “celebration of life” shit. I want sobbing, ppl vomiting w grief, at least 2 suicides
ME: how terrible. why can’t we love each other
[someone slightly inconveniences me]
ME: I will execute your entire family
*watches an extremely cute guy flirt with an equally cute girl at the gym from the floor above like an old witch on a mountain*
I forgot the word “torch” earlier today so I googled “fire on a stick.” I have two degrees in English.
[Guy goes on a date w me]
Hm not sure if he likes me
[13 more dates]
It’s so confusing
[Stays w me 30 yrs]
How do u tell