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Archive for April, 2012|Monthly archive page

France.

In Uncategorized on April 30, 2012 at 6:55 pm

France is stupid because my best friend is there and she won’t answer my skype calls.

Other than that, I’m sure it’s an ok place. I hear good things.

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crushing.

In Uncategorized on April 30, 2012 at 6:43 pm

You make me feel like sixth grade.

Enjoying you with no effort and no strings attached.

I just want to know if I can borrow a pencil,

and I’d like for that to turn into us getting married.

I want to sit next to you at lunch, because you’re the most special thing next to tater tots.

You make me smile alot.

I’ll let you know everything, except that you make my heart stop.

In a world where all eyes are on me, you’re the only one I want to look.

Sign my yearbook, so that I’ve got your ink forever.

Chipped.

In Uncategorized on April 23, 2012 at 10:08 pm

I had a job interview once.

 

I was afraid I wasn’t going to get hired because I forgot to take the chipped polish off of my nails.

I kept my hands in my pocket.

When I needed to point at something, it looked like I had a gun.

When I needed to make a gesture, I had to use my shoulder in ways shoulders shouldn’t be used.

 

I didn’t get the job.

Image

identity theft.

In Uncategorized on April 22, 2012 at 11:03 pm

I got an instagram account a few weeks ago.

I wanted to use the name “qbz” since it’s been my username/nickname since the day I touched down baby style.

However, it was taken.

Who’s using it, and what for? That person can’t possibly be giving the name all of the love that I can.

I forgot about it and went with “quintab” which is ok but makes me feel like an adulty adult who actually uses the default user name because they are too busy doing their taxes to think of another.

I decided to look up the schmo who had been using “qbz” today.

Their profile photo is blank, and they have 0 pictures.

0 following.

3 followers.

The 3 followers are a nerdy black kid, a blurry picture of an arm and a table, and Osama Bin Laden.

kissing.

In Uncategorized on April 22, 2012 at 10:55 pm

A guy tried to kiss my forehead, but I moved out of the way and he kissed my hair instead.

I ask, “Does it taste like coconut oil? I use coconut oil in my hair.”

He says, “I’m allergic to coconut.”

This study shows that kissing someone who doesn’t want to be kissed is almost always fatal.

The aforementioned male is still alive.