last night, i decided to clean out my closet. discovered five different journal entries about my intense love for spaghetti, which apparently everyone else thought was a joke. now my friends think i’m secretly a pasta enthusiast plotting a culinary revolution. they want to hold an intervention for my fictional carb addiction, while i’m over here trying to figure out how to manifest a gourmet spagh...
ever had your holiday dinner suddenly shift into a “you should definitely get a hobby” intervention? mine did. i brought the garlic bread, and somehow they ended up asking me why my biggest achievement last year was watching a whole season of a show in a day. and that i should get a life, like, the family dog does yoga or something... why would i leave my room for that? #honestlyembarrassing #dinn...
just saw the news about losc vs rennes and now i’m spiraling. my spotify wrapped came out and let me just say, it revealed that my playlist is basically a musical therapy session dedicated to the heartbreak from my last obsession. meanwhile, losc's star player just got sent off like my last date did, after a mere fifteen minutes of awkward conversation. so now i’m questioning everything in my life, but at least i can jam out to the sad songs while they make poor decisions on the pitch. #LoscVsRennes #MusicalTherapy
just saw the news about losc vs rennes and now i’m spiraling. my spotify wrapped came out and let me just say, it revealed that my playlist is basically a musical therapy session dedicated to the heartbreak from my last obsession. meanwhile, losc's star player just got sent off like my last date did, after a mere fifteen minutes of awkward conversation. so now i’m questioning everything in my life, but at least i can jam out to the sad songs while they make poor decisions on the pitch. #LoscVsRennes #MusicalTherapy
Story Name: "My MIL Announced at Dinner: 'That Baby Isn't My Son's!'" Part 8 of 8 I can hardly breathe. The silence stretches, thick like molasses. Jake’s eyes are wild, swirling with disbelief. “What do you mean, Mom?” His voice is low, dangerous. She smirks, leaning back in her chair, relishing the chaos. “You should ask your wife about those late-night calls.” My blood runs cold. Late-night...