i left the party

4

I wanted to do one of these cool things so I goddamn did it

there are lots of Green Man carvings/stories around Cheshire and they used to scare the shit out of me as a kid so enjoy that

The night is over and it’s time to go home but I don’t know where are you.
—  Things I realized when I was drunk, part VII
The Party: part 15/?

K: I mean seriously

K: Why don’t you ever listen to anything I say

K: If I tell you I don’t need help then I don’t need it, It’s like your ears broken 

K:….

K: are you even listening to me!?

L: …

K: *Throws burn cream tube*

L: OW!

L: What was that for!?

K: You weren’t listening to me!

L: Just because I’m not answering doesn’t mean I’m not listening Keith, god

L: You don’t have to be that upset about it

K: That’s NOT what i’m upset about.

L: *Sigh* I know.

K: What.

L: Look, I know you’re angry with me and you obviously have a lot to say so say it

L: I don’t care how bad it is, just tell me

K: ….

K: Okay.

In one of my first DnD games, I stayed behind as the rest of my party left and got into a fight.
Me: Well, I probably should go find them.
DM: You found them. 
Me (ooc): How did I did I do that? Did I use a tracking spell or something?
DM: No, you heard there is a big fight and though to yourself ‘Gee, I wonder who is responsible for that’

A Friend Of A Friend, These Strangers At The Party Never Paid

summary: “I left phone number on the bathroom stall wall and you text me about your day and your frustrations for a month & it’s really nice and cute but I still don’t know who you are” AU

words: 12.7k

warnings: smut, mentions of smoking, alcohol/being drunk, lack of imagination as far as fic titles are concerned

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Can you believe this was meant to be 3k?? I honeslty don’t know what happened there. all I know is that I have five exams in less than three weeks that I should be revising for and instead did this. yikes I hope this was worth it. (also pray4me that I don’t fail everything) x

Also on the topic of exams the actual reason I wrote this now was bc I’m kinda not gonna be writing for a while because of Lovely responsibilities and school stuff and revision so I’m gonna leave yall with this before I’m off Working and doing fun stuff that adults do.

I hope this is ok!!

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Dan’s halfway through skipping History when he does it.

He doesn’t know why he did it – he really doesn’t, he was just kind of bored one afternoon and happened to be carrying a Sharpie and hey, it’d just be a laugh, right? In a school like this, what’s the worst that could come out of leaving his phone number on a cubicle wall?

His pen squeaks across the pale blue paint, already tainted with curse words and penis drawings and tipp-ex and “Call _____ for a good time ;)”. He supposes the caretakers have given up with trying to cover up the graffiti – there are still thin layers of paint and chipped plaster coating every inch of the stall walls, at least showing attempted coverage, but people had just written over them, scribbles of song lyrics and “never got caught” tattooing every inch of the previously blank walls. No amount of assemblies or threats of “whoever did this-“, inserts picture of something someone had written about the Maths teacher on the hall projector, “is seriously going to pay” from the head teacher had ever stopped anyone, so, really, what does Dan have to lose? Sure, they could trace the phone number, but that doesn’t prove anything – he could just as easily throw on the ‘innocent’ act and say it was his friend.

07843983276, he writes. He doesn’t sign it off with any comment, nor kisses, not even a smiley face let alone a winking one. He just leaves it there, in a kind-of conspicuous place just above eye-level on the right hand side of the door, eleven digits amidst many others.

Keep reading

    I would rather be at home all by myself not in this room
   With people who don’t even care about my well-being
  I don’t dance, don’t ask, I don’t need a boyfriend
So you can go back, please enjoy your party.

                                                                    (x)

8

Thank GOD I have friends smarter than mean that can explain the issues surrounding identity politics better than I can. There is a difference between civil rights/social justice and identity politics. 

If you have more questions or responses to this please feel free to ask us though.

Earlier this year I was at a party in LA & I left 30 mins in because I needed to “go think about shadows”. Kind of goth but also a reflection of my true nature.

9

The next step fucking people I know
(Part 2)
My wife has a particularly cruel way of getting even, and because I left her stranded at the party, she sucked and fucked two of my mates and let them cum on her tits ( the video which I annoyingly can’t find has her begging them ‘come on lads cum on my tits’) although I was furious it soon turned into incredible arousal like this is what I wanted all along ! From this point on there was no going back no one was off limits and that thrilled us both immensely :-)

TELL ME YOUR STORY PROJECT

“I remember walking back in the middle of Vegas, one foot bleeding all over the sidewalk, slightly drunk, feeling the pulse of a party I’d just left because I was utterly exhausted. I saw the sunrise over that bizarre town as I limped back to my hotel trying to figure out how I was going to get upstairs through the casino without trailing my blood everywhere. There was absolutely no lull in the people on the street or in the casino, in the restaurants or bars and I just went ‘how do you all live like this?’ Then I saw the smiles on some of the girls’ faces and realised they were all just drunk. They gave up their sanity for a night. They lost money to win some coins in a shiny bucket they’d puke into later. I went back outside with a wad of tissue for my foot and thought about how I wanted to escape the madness as soon as possible. Because it was alluring, I’ll give it that. But Vegas can only hold you so long before you drown in something nasty, like your own vomit, watching the pretty lights and the orange sunrise.”

I think it broke something in me. I was told very early on that if I didn’t go out to openings and parties and events I would be left alone. I didn’t, and they still didn’t leave me alone. I knew it was part of the deal in the life I had signed up to, but the fear of it has never left me. I’m still not good at being recognized. I wear scruffy clothes and hats and keep my head down.

Did you know that FDR was superstitious about Friday the 13th?

FDR’s personal secretary, Grace Tully, in her book F.D.R. My Boss (New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1949) page 22 said: 

“The Boss was superstitious, particularly about the number thirteen and the practice of lighting three cigarettes on a single match. On several occasions I received last minute summonses to attend a lunch or dinner party because a belated default or late addition had brought the guest list to thirteen. My first invitation to a Cuff Links Club dinner, held annually on the President’s birthday, came about in 1932 when withdrawal of one of the guests left a party of thirteen. I was an annual fixture after that.

“Many times, FDR went to great pains to schedule a trip departure on the twelfth of the month or the fourteenth in order to avoid starting on the unlucky day. Occasionally this meant pulling a train out at 11:50 P.M. on the twelfth or 12:10 A.M. on the fourteenth.

“Even in death he escaped the day of ill omen, the end coming on the afternoon of Thursday, April 12, less than twelve hours before that bugaboo of all days, a Friday the thirteenth.”

John Gunther, in his book Roosevelt in Retrospect (Harper and Brothers, 1950) page 95 stated:

“Like most people with good luck, FDR was moderately-not excessively-superstitious. He hated Friday the 13th, he would never start an important trip on a Friday if he could help it, and he disliked sitting down with thirteen at dinner.”

FDR believed in other superstitions as well. He carried this rabbit’s foot lucky charm around with him during the 1932 presidential campaign.