She got me praying all hours of the night, say she want my heart,
She pulling me to the river, drawing me with her siren's call,
Done gave her my heart but now she wants my soul,
Well I already sold it to the man in red,
"Fell in love with your charm," but its a curse; cos am dead,
Girl you're not who you say, bad girl they say you are
Innocence isn't where am at, wear your crucifix bae
Don't make me out all serious bonnie, slave to this bad religion,
Unrequited love, praying at my shrine, cos I don't have a heart
Like a dead man walking, I lay at your side,
Make sure you're alright in my world, atleast that for you girl,
Some say that his tears are adhesive, and that if he caught fire he’d burn for 1000 days. Some say that his ears aren’t exactly where you’d expect them to be, and that once, preposterously, he had an affair with John Prescott. We suddenly realise that we have no idea what the truth is. Who is the strange creature? What does he want from us? All we do know, is that he’s called The Stig.
It’s the year 2056. Bruce Forsyth is now 141 years old. He’s outlived his family, he’s outlived his old co-stars. He’s outlives everyone he knows. He’s outlived all of us. The apocalypse happened 10 years ago and Brucie is the only one left. He is the last man on Earth.
You’re in Tescos just before Election Day. You stop by the news and magazines section expecting to find some quality political analysis on the front page of your favourite paper, but all you find is rows and rows of the same image. Ed Miliband eating a bacon sandwich. At least that’s what the headline says he is doing. But you look closer. And that most certainly is not bacon.
You’re on the settee. You’re sort of half asleep-half scrolling Facebook for quality bants. ITV is on in the background but you haven’t been paying attention since Jezza Kyle went off. Something suddenly forces you to snap back to reality. In the corner of your eye you see an oversized white collar, thick rimmed black glasses… No, no, I thought it was over, please tell me he isn’t back, isn’t it over?? You turn to see the collar is now poking through the telly, and he’s there. Staring. There’s only one way to find out… FIGHT
LAD culture is taking over. Every word in the English Dictionary is quickly being replaced to include with word “bant” in it somewhere. All dinosaurs have been renamed Bantersauruses. At Christmas the only thing you can watch at the theatre is a Bantomime. Law dictates that the only things we can put in our gardens are blants, particularly of the
chrysbanthemum variety. We don’t even wear normal underwear anymore. We literally wear bants.
I wonder what ever happened to Dec, you wonder as you watch Ant presenting Britain’s Got Talent solo. You’re suddenly very aware that you haven’t seen him in a while, but Ant has never mentioned where his counterpart has gone. But wait. Ant looks different. The more you stare at his face the more obvious it becomes, but somehow only you can see it. Dec is trapped inside Ant’s massive forehead.
It’s been a long time since Freddos were 10p. A long time. And the price of them is no long a humorous topic used to express faux-indignation at the ever rising cost of living. They are a sad subject now, and it is deemed rude to even bring up the topic of Freddos in good company. Every time your gazes flickers to the £1 label beneath the untouched stack of Freddos at Morrisons, you die a little bit inside, a tear rolls down your cheek.
A/N: I got this idea from reading #ThanksGivingClapbacks and #ThanksgivingwithBTS on twitter 😂most of them had me dying so I wanted to make my own. These aren’t really Thanksgiving Clapbacks, just clapbacks in general.
Also: Because I know someone is bound to be butt hurt over this, let it be known that THESE ARE JUST JOKES. I love BTS, I think each and every member is attractive and talented, and I wrote this just to make people laugh so please do not come at me trying to make me seem like an anti or a fake fan, because most likely I will just curse your ass out and block you. With that being said, hope y'all enjoy these texts and please look forward to another Thanksgiving themed text in the near future ☺️
Just the thought of you makes me smile,
The sound of your voice through closed doors,
The way you shuffle around facing the ground.
Thinking of your own bright smile,
The way it brightens the room,
Sets my face alight.
I think of the late night messages
And the inside jokes,
Of the way our eyes will meet
And we’ll burst out laughing
Because we were thinking the same thing.
I think of how it wouldn’t work
And how it’ll never work,
And I pray to God I get to keep you in some way.