I think it is funny that as a teen we all look forward to growing up. 1) we get to do what we want 2) we get to drink 3) no more roomates and our own rooms 4) can stay up late eating pickles, ice cream, and watching netflix.

What we don’t know is that adulting is really about:

1) too many bills

2) too little sleep


LMFAO by this time tomorrow, I’ll have experienced the absolute beauty that is Darren Criss in Hedwig and I really can’t talk about this right now because I’ll probably die. My body is bursting with pride and excitement to see this tiny dude from YouTube in the most incredible, important role thus far. To many more! *drinks a shot of whiskey*

I hate when people are like “I bet I can smoke more weed than you” or “I bet I can drink more than you” because it’s like??? I’m sure you can but idk why that’s a bragging right because here I am content with my level of intoxication and not wasting weed/booze and also saving money

  • Me:*goes to kitchen for drink of water*
  • Me:*hears shuffling noises*
  • Me:*is the only one awake and brother is still at work*
  • Me:
  • Me:it's probs just my imagination
  • Me:*drinks some more water*
  • Lights:lol BAM we gon go out now later
  • Me:
  • Me:*goes to inspect light switch*
  • Switch:behold i am in the 'off' position even though before I was definitely 'on'
  • Me:
  • Me:*drinks more water*
  • Me:*hears more shuffling*
  • Me:*does not go "HELLO" like in the horror movies because you know what happens to the characters who do that right i don't have to spell it out*
  • Me:haha it's not a ghost
  • Me:that's 67% impossible
  • Me:unreasonable
  • Me:I mean there's probably a perfectly good explanation for the lights turning off ALL BY THEMSELVES
  • Me:and the weird shuffling I keep hearing
  • Me:and
  • Me:
  • Me:*chugs down the rest of the water and books it back to my room*

So far I’ve drank about 1 quart of pineapple juice by myself and let me tell you a thing. I could drink 4 more.

unadulteratedcolordaze asked:

Rosé wine

She’s staring at the wall, glass held tightly in her hand. It’s not her first drink–she’s more than a few in, and the swaying shoulders to show for it–and she doesn’t plan on it being her last. Her face crinkles slightly, and she speaks without really hearing herself. 

“She puts graffiti everywhere. Always fuckin’ pink. Stupid pink everywhere. But sometimes she leaves notes at my house. She always asks why I don’t remember. What’m I supposed to remember? I don’t fuckin’ get it, I don’t get her.”

If you have cold hands please come over and stick your hands on my face (but don’t look at me because now it’s just awkward… Unlike sticking your hands on someone’s face for an extended period of time).