Category: Uncategorized
nest:
its so fucking funny when people in straight relationships try to use top/bottom language to describe their sex lives. my housemate was talking about “topping” her boyfriend and i was like “you peg him?” and she got all disgusted and was like NO I JUST LIKE BEING ON TOP!!!!
we really really need to oppress the hets man they’re playing with fire they’re using ideas they dont understand. they’re running with scissors
“u know that feel when no gf” no actually i dont because im a MANLY MAN who plays SEVERAL sports am i right my fellow sportsmen
name all seven sports
- ball throw
- ball catch
- ball run
- ball kick
- shoot ball
- dong touch
- memes
get fuckin wrecked
this blog is an idiot positive zone. if ur a dumbass thats ok. this is a safe space for people w half a brain
rb and tag with how god nerfed you. he nerfed me by making me lactose intolerant
You wake up one day and realize you’re in a parallel universe. You’re not sure what exactly is different, only that everything seems a little… off. Your suspicions are confirmed when you go with your friends to the mall and Take On Me comes on, and it sounds like this.
this song makes me feel like i’m half asleep on the bathroom floor of a 7-Eleven at 3:17 in the morning and i was trying to make my way back to my hotel took the wrong turn on the highway and i got too tired to keep searching so i just gave up.
like one day you’re meeting this kid under the bleachers because you heard you could score some weed off of him and you do and you huddle with him in the cramped space and you cough until your eyes are red and your head is foggy and you come back for more because he’s funny and he’s nice and he feels safe and it feels good to be with him and you breathe deep until your lungs burn and you don’t worry about your grades or your parents’ expectations or the college applications waiting four years down the road and the next thing you know you’re meeting him under the bleachers every single day after school and you used to spend this time in the library studying and waiting for your mom to retrieve you but you don’t want to go to the library anymore and you can’t tell anybody why you don’t want to go to the library anymore so you just come here and he doesn’t ask questions and you love him for it and you skim through your textbooks while the smoke wafts up from his joint and gives you just a touch of a contact high and it’s enough to keep you coming back for the next three years and the first time you kiss him you tell him you’re pretending he’s a girl and it doesn’t have to mean anything but the second time is not pretend and you know it and he knows it and so the second time is the last time and then you graduate and you go to the ivy league and he doesn’t graduate and he changes oil and you discover new boys and new forms of pretending but you don’t want discovery as much as you want familiarity and you don’t know it yet but you’re only a few failed classes away from emptying your trust fund on a low-rent bar and a two-bedroom lease and then twenty years go by and he wants to pretend again and he’s begging you to just keep pretending but you’re not pretending when you tell the mother of your child that there is no room for her and there never has been and there never will be because there’s only ever been enough space for two people under the bleachers
Penhales 