My mom told me we could go out to get dinner.
What she really meant was we'd go get dinner after she and my sister drag me through 3 different clothing stores.
No. I do not want your tank tops. I do not want your short shorts. I do not want your jeggings or skinny jeans or cute frilly t-shirts.
Please stop asking me.
In fact, please just kill me now.
Or, even better idea, lets go to REI. they have nice clothes.
But please. PLEASE. Let's not try on all 2 million of these sundresses. Please. I'm begging you.
...
This place will be my death. And if not this place, then the one after that, or after that.
*dies*
YOU ARE READING
What Even Is This?
RandomTags, strange news updates, random ideas, serious and crack headcanons, this book has it all! ... In other words, it's my book of random crap.
