Sep 18, 2013
To whoever stole my clothes:
Enjoy them. It's not like they had any special meaning, or anything. It's not like they were my favorites. I didn't wear them on my first date with my boyfriend or wore them when I needed elegance in a pinch. Those jeans were ratty and old, but those paint stains told stories and I don't care if that's what's popular right now. That monarch shirt meant so much to me, you have no idea. And it's not like I need those panties, or anything.
... Who am I kidding. When I find you, you better hope they're still in good condition and you better have a good apology and reason for why you had my clothes in the first place. And you better not be wearing them next time I see you, or bitch, I will FUCK. YOU. UP.