Reblog If You Want Your Followers To Tell You One Thing They Secretly Think About You.

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Such a beautiful set of pics . I had to reblog..

牧野澪菜

So even though I’m not being charged overdraft fees (not for 30 days anyway), I’m still really in the red here, and bills keep coming out of my account. I know I’ve been sending around that other post, but my situation keeps getting worse.

I’m worried that by the time I get my next payment it won’t be worth anything bc I will be overdrawn by way too much.

So again, anything you have to give is great, or you can just reblog. I appreciate you either way.

Also feel free to not interact at all. I won’t hold it against you.

Thanks

Cash app: $cupkaek

Venmo: @cupkaek

PayPal.me/kae

If you want one.

Why the hell did they put those report pips on the right side of the column as you scroll they are right where my thumb goes to keep scrolling.. Fucking pisser to be reporting shit you like.

When you realize you should have picked the blue pill and just gone back into the matrix..

Just Monday Again

My pillow shrieks, "Get out of bed!"

As the alarm clock pounds upon my head.

My boxers squirm down off my hips,

the toothbrush fights to free my lips.

The mirror reflects a neighbors home,

my tube of toothpaste moans and foams.

As the razor shaves holes in all my socks,

the shower jolts me with electric shocks.

Cold cereal explodes my bowl,

while the toaster plots against me.

The jam attacks the jellyroll.

My coffee's dripping honey.

This cologne must really stink,

my milk has turned to curds.

The bathtub quarrels with the sink,

both using spiteful words.

The stove is burning up my clothes,

as the dryer eats the cat.

A fly shoots up into my nose,

the dog chews up my hat.

The refrigerator digests my meals,

the bathtub bitches louder.

My radio lets out a squeal,

as my mouthwash turns to powder.

My hair flies off like autumn leaves,

cold wind blowing cross my head.

Small red car gives a choking wheeze,

as the lifetime battery goes dead.

My pants are squeezing my rear end,

they swear I've put on weight.

My phone has called it's long lost friend,

So I can't tell work I'll be late.

My slippers seem to have a grudge

while they scream that I'm a jerk.

The washer fills my house with suds,

as I shamble off to work.. By Mark Priest

11-12-10

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