If I was a walking punk-ass stereotype, I’d look a lot more like some asshole out of a wannabe blink-182 band. I like to believe I’m a lot better than that.
Your lack of description is boring. And I’m absolutely sure. Boys have never appealed. And they never will… Changing my mind isn’t happening.
Trust me. You’ll know when someone is actually trying to be edgy. They’ll be a walking stereotype. Hey, fair enough. I’m pretty into lady lovin’ myself. I can totally see the appeal.
Well, good for you. Sounds like you’ve got just the right threshold for how edgy you’re trying to be. 1.75 liters of Bombay Sapphire is a perfectly fine limit for me though… No edge to this girl. Just pathetically drinking alone.
Oh honey, if I was trying to be edgy I’d try a lot harder. That’s just a typical weekend for me. What, no loverboy to drink with and inevitably end up in bed with by the end of the night?
Freedom of speech doesn’t necessarily mean freedom from consequence, and you, you little shit, are getting closer and closer to having your ass sent to detention every day up until you eventually drop out or flunk out, so watch the way you speak to her, Danny. Better yet, I could easily call up a favor from your sister and have her deal with you because we both know how much you’d love that. So, back off. Go find someone else to annoy with your teen angst bullshit.
I’m pretty sure that you can’t send me to detention just for talking shit on the internet. Besides, it’s the internet. What I said isn’t nearly as bad as what others could say. Oh, look at you. Threatening me with my sister. What’re you gonna do next? Tell my mom like you’re six? How about you just get a life and butt out of my business.
I really don’t like you and I think you should refrain from communicating with me at all costs.
It’s a free country lady. If you didn’t want people commenting on your shit, don’t post it. Otherwise, expect the criticism. Whether you like it or not.
There’s a fine line between enough to develop a tolerance and alcohol poisoning. Not sure I want to end up in the hospital just because people think I’m too much of a lightweight.
You’re not gonna get alcohol poisoning unless you drink yourself beyond stupid every night.
With his dad in the air force, Dan often steps up to try and be the “man” of the house. However, since he is the youngest of the Puckerman bunch, it doesn’t always work out.
He feels overshadowed by his older sister, knowing she’s successful in what she wants to do and he fears that he won’t be able to live up to that.
He’s incredibly smart. He has straight A’s, despite skipping a class or two for smoke breaks under the bleachers, and has managed to be on the honor roll for 7 years.
He’s really into criminal justice. He may commit a crime or two, but due to his intensive knowledge on the subject he knows how to get away with it. He hopes to become a detective at some point in his life.
He’s a definite slytherin, but he has the mind of a ravenclaw.
He has a nose piercing, and his ears are stretched to a size 0 gauge.
He writes poetry, and while his sister mocks it, he occasionally does open mic nights.
He has taken French four times and takes pride in his ability to fluently speak in it.
While he has a tough exterior, he has a really soft interior. This side of him is only really shown to a certain extent of people.
He isn’t close to his mother, and he’s kind of close to his father. When it comes to family, he’d much rather be alone than try and blend in.
He enjoys reading, but doesn’t do it often outside of his own room because he knows how he’ll be treated at school.
He’s slushied, but only when the jocks bother to notice him.
Guess who’s swearing off sushi restaurants for the foreseeable future? This gal. I haven’t felt this bad in a long time. Thank god Andrew took Ana today, because I don’t think I’d be able to mother right now.
Oh boo hoo. So what, you ate a few bad California rolls and now you’re gonna ruin it for yourself? Huh. And I always thought that being a mother came before everything else.
Ugh my head! It’s like 100 little Oompa Loompas dancing on my brain, scream-singing one of their cautionary tale songs, only this one’s not about chocolate rivers or blueberry girls - it’s about me and how I can’t hold my liquor anymore.
Or, maybe, you just don’t drink enough. You develop a tolerance by doing something frequently. The solution? Drink more.
Not sure why my mother’s suddenly on a “move in with me” kick, but I don’t know how many different ways I can say no before she’ll get the hint. Not even a hint… It’s a direct no. And I really do mean it.
Just tell her to fuck off. You’re a big girl, put on a pull-up and stand up for yourself.
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