I went over to my mom’s house today and I needed my brother to go somewhere with me but he was asleep, so I snuck into his room on the dark and he was asleep on his back so I slapped his stomach as hard as I could. He screamed MOM and I bolted, and apparently no one saw me run through the house to my ridiculously stupid hiding place (beside the couch laying on the ground) and I then proceeded to try and laugh quietly while my brother accused my mother of slapping him and no one being able to find me.
And I’m like 5 years old
Your family: I have a lump in my breast, I’m getting a biopsy this week.
My family: Did I tell you about the lump in my boob? *rips off shirt* Feel it!
(I felt it)
I hate this “We’ll keep in touch” shit.
Why can’t one of us just say it?
We’re not going to keep in touch. We’re not going to call. We’re not going to Skype. We won’t send postcards.
Sure, we might try at first. Like last time.
But pretty soon the conversations will get shorter and further apart, littered with stories one of us just can’t identify with anymore because, let’s face it, we’re barely friends now.
We can’t sit around wishing for how it used to be when we cared about everything insignificant thing that happened in every day. We can’t pretend we’re still there.
It’s just sad. It’s painful.
We need to move on, because wishes don’t keep a friendship alive.
My cat runs around attacking my dog. It’s really entertaining.
There’s my pit bull, walking down the hall, when BAM!
SMALL BLACK KITTEN ATTACHED TO HER NECK!!!
Just as quickly, the tiny monster disappears.
I stay up too late watching my favorite shows and complain about not getting enough sleep because sometimes it’s the only good part of my ridiculously busy day and I just need it.
Mom: I never had sex with anyone on crack! (pause) Well, they weren’t on crack.