Just when I thought my niece couldn’t possibly get any cuter, she goes and makes a face like this.
I mean, look at those bunny teeth. COME ON!
Just when I thought my niece couldn’t possibly get any cuter, she goes and makes a face like this.
I mean, look at those bunny teeth. COME ON!
To tell you the truth, the only reason why I even feel like it’s marginally appropriate for me to register to win tickets to a fucking memorial service for a dead guy with major issues and a sad story is because I secretly think everyone will arrive at the Staples Center, totally sad and unhappy, and then FUCKING MICHAEL JACKSON WILL PERFORM! IT WAS ALL A JOKE! THEN HE WILL GIVE ME CHIMPANZEES?! I’LL JUST ACCEPT THEM WITHOUT QUESTION.
(PS, if I’m right about this at all, I’m probably going to become one of those super-fans of Michael Jackson. Even though those people seem to be either German or Korean as a rule. Like… generally speaking… from what I’ve seen… on youtube.)
I’m Secreting the shit out of this being the case.
- Me, to a guy trying to take my friend home from the bar tonight. (I’m a really shitty winglady* for my friends.)
*prefer to have alive friends
racism at it’s finest.
I feel like this might’ve come from my high school. I went to a magnet school in downtown Tampa that was surrounded on either side by the pink and green projects, and the chorus of our Alma Mater went “B-L-A-K-E-H-I”. Yeah. (That’s not how you spell ‘Blake High.)
She’s right: why can’t we all just have quiet time with our creatively-named children at our homes in the English countryside while sacks of checks are delivered every 15 minutes? God, we’re so AMERICAN!
Remember when you were in college, and you had a friend who spent junior year in Florence, and then she greeted people by kissing them on both cheeks for the first four days of senior year? Gwyneth Paltrow is that girl in those four days, forever.