Slowly, I walk away from the kitchen in pure disbelief. No…this couldn’t be happening, but it had and I wasn’t able to save it. With rage in my eyes, I walk into the living room and ask:
"Who ate my fucking chocolate Easter bunny".
I dont see how you can just message your friends whenever, but have too much pride to text me..
i dont understand how people can just get tattoos without even giving it a second thought i cant even find the commitment to stick a sticker somewhere