more like there is a slug that lives in our cleaning room and my mom feeds him green beans and cat food so he keeps coming back.
His name is Horace….
I WASN’T KIDDING GUYS MY MOM JUST SENT ME PICTURES OF HORACE EATING CAT FOOD.
(via spikethesharpfang)
and the only thing i could respond with at the time was
“always”
and he just came downstairs and showed me his floor routine.
there were leg kicks and twirling involved.
and he was like “do you think I’ll make the team for the next olympics?”
and I was like “sure dad….go for it….”
for changing their software and making it so I still don’t have a housing assignment and move in day is tomorrow.
xoxo,
Devon.
I didn’t know fear until a bagel almost hit me in the face when it popped out from the toaster.
“Why yes, I am too sexy for my shirt” to himself.
Then he came upstairs without a shirt on.
Stop.
scroll and click the dashboard link with my toes so I wouldn’t have to sit up?
I hate myself.
