if you ever call me annoying, even if it’s just jokingly, the chances of me ever speaking to you again are slim to none because I’ll be so afraid that every little word or sound that comes out of my mouth will aggravate you and make you cringe and hate my existence
(via unknownfamiliar)
I keep needing to redo this thing. But here’s some early explorations I haven’t posted here yet.
This essay is kind of the second part of an essay on taste that can be read here:
ok let’s stop using the term “butthurt” we’re not 12 anymore
you sound fannytroubled
a little bootybothered if you ask me
someone’s having a little tushytantrum
(via fishintheheather)