Yes, I wrote my daughter a letter. And that bastard that made me call him Father took pieces of it, that only Allison would know were from me, and used it to manipulate her, to turn her into something she was never supposed to be. I never wanted her to become me. And it got her killed. I will find that man, and I will kill him. Even if I have to come back from the grave.
now that it’s warmer i can finally wear shorts and offend people with my natural body hair
I have never laughed so hard in my life.
fucking shave your negativity(:
sophia slayin it
I saw this comment right
So I clicked on their blog and..
I don’t even know where to begin oh my
MY GRANDMA GOT ALL A’S IN “ETIQUETTE” (YES THAT WAS AN ACTUAL CLASS IN HER HIGH SCHOOL) AND SHE TOLD ME, “DEAR,” SHE SAID,
“YOU NEVER CROSS YOUR LEGS, YOU CROSS YOUR ANKLES. BUT THE GREAT THING ABOUT YOU LIVING IN THIS GENERATION IS YOU DON’T HAVE TO FOLLOW MY GENERATION’S RULES. SIT THE WAY YOU WANT. IF SOMEONE LOOKS UP YOUR SKIRT, JUST TELL THEM YOUR AUNT MARY WILL KILL THEM.”
WHICH IS TRUE
MY AUNT MARY HAD A SWITCHBLADE IN A SPECIAL POCKET OF HER NIGHTGOWN UNTIL THE DAY SHE DIED
the moral of this story is
1. Sit the way you want.
2. My great aunt Mary was a fucking badass.
every year after you turn 17 you get further away from being the age of the dancing queen and that’s my least favorite thing about growing up
ah but when you turn 34 you’re two dancing queens and thus having twice the time of your life. and at 51 you become the dancing triumvirate and three golden crowns are forged in your honor
lots to look forward to