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What we have here is a violent, confused and damaging mess disguised poorly as romantic drama. What we have here is the inevitable conclusion of a genre that has continued to romanticise and justify the most horrifically misogynist examples of rape culture for the sake of chasing trends and making money. I can say, without a hint of hyperbole, that this is the most loathsome and despicable thing I have ever read.

So my mother made some hotdogs and when I saw that delicious food I was like “yay, food for my stomach”.

Naturally I bit into the food and the first few bites went good and I began to feel my stomach filling up, but it wasn’t until the last bite that I just died. 

I bit into that wonderful piece of meat and suddenly BAM IT EXPLODED ITS JUICES ALL OVER ME. 

I feel so violated.

blindmouse replied to your photo: Loving the Band: When good publishers ruin bad…

Oh wow, she picked the kid who famously *can’t swim* to play her villainously sexy attempted drowner? That should be funny, but it’s too awful. As is … everything else about this, ugh.

Ha. Here’s another excerpt I’m fond of that didn’t make it into the formal cry of despair:

“Almost ready!” Riley suddenly declared, waving his tea towel with a flourish. But, as he did, it caught the flame from the stove and set alight.

“Aaaagh!” He dropped it on the floor as Tyler moved quickly, filling a bowl of water and extinguishing it immediately.

“My hand!” Riley moaned.

“Oh my God. Are you OK?” With barely a second to think, I took him by the arm and put his hand under the cold tap, letting the water run over it gently.

Riley rested his forehead against mine. “Thanks, Jess. That feels so much better.”

I blushed, not quite sure how to feel about how openly affectionate Riley was. I’m sure I would have been the envy of girls worldwide if they could have seen me.

……………………………..and yet somehow I am not sure of this at all adskl;fajd

CHRIST MY ANNOYING LITTLE EIGHT YEAR OLD NEIGHBORS ARE PLAYING MARCO POLO WITH SOME FRIENDS IN THE POOL AND IT’S JUST ONE KID CONTINUOUSLY SCREECHING “MARCO,” OVER AND OVER AGAIN AND ALL OF THE SUDDEN OUR EIGHTY YEAR OLD NEIGHBOR LEANS OUT OF HIS WINDOW AND JUST SCREAMS, “POLO YOU TUBBY LITTLE SHIT STAIN,” AND I THINK I ’M COUGHING UP BLOOD