Donauschwaben. Sith. Save the Orcas.| 24. KSU Alumni | Content Specialist | Never tell me the odds | Victorian housewife trapped in a millennial's body
*Anything remotely festive occurs*
Brain:
Don’t say it
Don’t say it
Don’t say it
Don’t say it
Don’t say it
Don’t say it
Don’t say it
Don’t say it
Don’t say it
Me: “Merry Chrysler.”
get your girl something she'll love this Christmas: a wolf-hound, an evening gown, a horse only she can tame and a sword from a lake signifying that she is to be queen of this land.
forget nudes: in 2019 we’re sending pics in our fanciest attire. gauzy floral skirts. ball gowns. the kind of fur coat worn by a wealthy lady who has been thrice-widowed and hasn’t seen her fourth husband in some time.
The most riveting conversation I’ve overheard is the ongoing debate of whether the almond-flavored cake served afterwards is from Giant Eagle.
We get it, Linda.
And, obviously, it is.
I’m at this community dinner at a church (at the request of my grandmother) and during the prayer my nail popped off... my dad turns to me at the end and goes “it’s a sign.”
Yuh. A sign I need to go home ✌️