Forever crying that Kayla is in Santa Monica and I am not
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Forever crying that Kayla is in Santa Monica and I am not
Meg has your phone, I assume you're in class. Send one of us a snap when you get this message.
I don't have internet access Kayla, I'm sorry. I can't snapchat except for when I'm in the cafeteria.
I got the phone, sorry I inconvenienced literally everyone.
I'm laying here dying over a shrekmin au post while Kayla cleans. Epitome of a Sunday night
Currently adjusting to a new haircut folks, much thanks to youngladycat. Summer is a coming, and it's time for a change.
There was once a gentleman from London, who in truth was something of a bumpkin, his hair was mess and his eyebrows distressed but there was this one Frenchman who loved him.
That was the most beautiful thing I've ever read
I went to the second page of google, for my onee-sama. If that's not love, I don't know what is!
My friend tried to tell me I could not name any potential male children jean-marco because that is taking the fandom life too far. Then, we opened a piece of music we were singing for choir, and the composer was named jean-marc. moral of the story, don't tell me I can't do something.
youngladycat replied to your post:Someone just posted a review on my story...
*cries and plays the sims*
I wish I could play the Sims, but alas I am Simless. Also writing an angry essay about why college is bullshit.