smokin’ photoshoot with my kitty by candlelight, when we were both startled by a lightbulb flickering. perfect.
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(Source: brokenbarrel, via multicolors)
apologies.
(Source: earth-song, via multicolors)
“It’s been too long”
is not a romantically alluring means to wiggle your way back into a girl’s pants.
I’d trade you for them cheekbones in a heartbeat miss emily. Bowie-esque and razor sharp.
translation: can I play with your tits?
you know when people you haven’t fucked—I mean talked to—in ages message you on facebook when you’re drunk?
Yeah, I have no idea what to say…perhaps: “so, how’s your penis?”
to a bar where the drinks are made strong, and well-mixed.
And the crowd is late twenties to late thirties.
And there’s no kesha or other radio nonsense.
And I will get trashed with my favorite bartender, who I haven’t seen in about six months.
translation: “I feel threatened by your sexuality.”
This is not witty, not moral, but it is pathetic and, frankly, Fox News-worthy puritanical bullshit.
How does anyone have the energy to worry about who everyone else is fucking?
(via multicolors)
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