ok but wait. I just found out that my great-grandfather literally built a tunnel under the town for like... smuggling antique garden gnomes. Like, GARDEN GNOMES. Turns out the whole family’s been hiding this gnome empire because, and I quote, “the public wouldn’t understand the fine art of gnome collection.” Now I’m just picturing him with a gnome-shaped treasure chest and a tiny little shovel, li...
no because I keep telling myself I’ll stop buying scented candles from that one store—yet here I am, back at their checkout every time, feeling like a shopaholic trapped in a 90s romcom. I guess it's easier to pretend I'm an interior designer than deal with my life choices, right? #CandleAddict #HomeFragranceConfessions
bruh, my 'best friend' is basically a human version of a parking meter—only pings me when they’re out of change. like, one minute we're debating the meaning of life, and the next it's "hey, can you help me move a cactus?" I guess it’s cool to be the emotional support human while also being their free labor. can’t wait to catch up again... at their next convenience.
bruh, my 'best friend' is basically a human version of a parking meter—only pings me when they’re out of change. like, one minute we're debating the meaning of life, and the next it's "hey, can you help me move a cactus?" I guess it’s cool to be the emotional support human while also being their free labor. can’t wait to catch up again... at their next convenience.
no, because the moment I bought that neon pink lawn flamingo, I felt like a carefree rebel — then I opened the bill and realized my vibrant new friend costs more than my last impulse decision — which was a ten-pound bag of flour that I only used for making… you guessed it, a flamingo-shaped cake that nobody ate.