I Was Too Lazy To Start A

I Might Look Like A Honey-eyed Schoolgirl On The Outside, In My Skirt With Its Regulation Four-inches-above-the-knee Hem. But I'll Rip Those Tassels Off Your Shoes, Old Man. Just Try Googling Me.

Not Like This Vision Before Us, Who Was Shaking Water Out Of His Slightly Overlong Reddish-brown Hair As He Leaned Over To Lay Down His Board (revealing, As He Did So, The Fact That Beneath His Baggy Swim Trunks—so Weighted Down With Water That They Had Sunk Somewhat Dangerously Low On His Hips—lurked What Appeared To Be An Exceptionally Well-formed Gluteus Maximus)

We Need To Talk.” “i’m Just – Look,” I Said, As He Took A Step Toward Me. “i’m Just Going To Give Cee Cee A Call And Maybe We’ll Go To The Beach Or Something, Because I Really … I Just Need A Day Off.”another Step Toward Me. Now He Was Right In Front Of Me. “especially,” I Said Significantly, Looking Up At Him, “from Talking. That’s What I Especially Need A Day Off From. Talking.” “fine,” He Said. He Reached Up And Cupped My Face In Both His Hands. “we Don’t Have To Talk.”and That’s When He Kissed Me. On The Lips.

Emerson:bite Me Whitne:you Wish

I've Come To The Conclusion That, Aside From Nazis, The Taliban, And Possibly The Honey Badger, There Is No One On The Planet More Merciless Than A Teenage Girl Once She's Decided She Dislikes You.