Wake up, bake up, gotta get my cake up.
This is what I look like with make up on.
I imagine hell to be a place where everyone rolls around hot boxing cigs in their cars.
Typical Monday ritual: aimlessly walk around the house naked until I remember that I know how to make coffee.
I love how pale her skin is. Sometimes I worry that when I touch it, she will dissipate into thin air. I had never before felt something with a texture softer than powder itself. She had “fragile” written all over her.
Grown ass bitches drink coffee out of plastic cups with built in straws.
Opened the photo album on my iPad at school to find Trista’s tit staring back me and whoever else was looking. Well played.
I would go out tonight, but I haven’t got a stitch to wear.
Cheers to the weirdest person I’ll ever meet. I love this human for her awkward, perfectly placed, shockingly witty humor.