Life is like a box of crayons. Most people are the 8-color boxes, but what you’re really looking for are the 64-color boxes with the sharpeners on the back. I fancy myself to be a 64-color box, though I’ve got a few missing. It’s okay though, because I’ve got some more vibrant colors like periwinkle at my disposal. I have a bit of a problem though in that I can only meet the 8-color boxes. Does anyone else have that problem? I mean there are so many different colors of life, of feeling, of articulation.. So when I meet someone who’s an 8-color type, I’m like, ‘Hey girl. Magenta!’ And she’s like, ‘Oh, you mean purple!’ And she goes off on her purple thing, and I’m like, ‘No - I want magenta!’
so i was in the bus with this granny by my side when we spotted two girls kissing by the bus stop. the granny turned to me and said “these girls are so pretty. at their age i was pretty ugly. well, maybe that’s why i had to marry a man” i almost died omg
If there is a God, He will have to beg my forgiveness.
The Bible is packed with tales of impure women meeting a just end under a pile of stones. Today, in certain countries, they’re known as honor killings. Will the court make an exception to murder for…