I need a haircutttttt.
I need a haircutttttt.
True mother fucking that.
I officially have the female equivalent to blue balls
My bones said, “Write the poems.”
She is SO fucking amazing.
It’s my sociopathic mother’s birthday today.
Happy Birthday, you fuck. Thanks for trying to kill me. I haven’t seen you nor spoken to you in nearly two years. I’ve finally discovered what happy is in your absence.
It’s sleepy out tonight.
I hate hearing my ex-girlfriend walking around, showering, cleaning, living. I wish she would come into my room and lay down with me, because I’m fucking exhausted from hating her and ignoring her and all that will be fixed if she was here, of her own volition, dirty, but here. It’s so not what I want or need. It’s more of an urge, a phantom person syndrome.
Hello, wistful Mickey Blue Eyes
Mine.
Hi.
A couple of nights before we broke up, my then-girlfriend told me she had told a former girlfriend that she had been a victim of rape. I felt sickened by this, because she followed this with an admission she was lying. I’m capturing moments now. I’m capturing disgust.
Well, this makes my fucking day.
—
My ex-girlfriend just sent me a sorry text. Only took her two weeks, via text message no less. Fucking coward.
—
“I’m just saying to the people who are upset about their hard earned tax money going to things they don’t like: Welcome to the fucking club.” - Jon Stewart
(via girlgoesgrrr)
