To the man traveling west on the Market-Frankford line,
You approached me and told me I looked cold. When I gave you a response as frigid as my appearance you blushed and said, “I’m bad at things like this.” You proceeded to dig and dig and dig into my personal life. You asked me where I went to school and I replied honestly. You asked me if my boyfriend went there, too. Again, I answered honestly. You asked me if, by any chance, he was older than you. You gushed about your love of all things athletic and when I expressed my distaste for that particular subject you laughed. You said, “See, that’s why we’d never work out if we dated.” My question to you is: where in the world did you ever get the impression that I was looking for love in the dirty subways of Philadelphia? Did the thought ever cross your mind that I was continuing our conversation out of politeness? Or that maybe I didn’t want to talk to anyone at all? I’m entirely sick of the looks I get on the street and the seemingly constant nagging of strange men. My goal or purpose in life isn’t solely to date. I’m not looking for love on the subway, on the sidewalk, at the coffee shop. Please stop, let me be. My scowl should be enough to deter you.
- No Male Ever: Yeah I really like her but she doesn't have a thigh gap
Last time I took mushrooms I was convinced that young Jennifer Connelly was an angel sent from the place your consciousness goes during really hard trips
A brony is trying to court me on OKCupid this is not ok
When I go to college I am having sex with the first beardy guy I see, I need to get laid yo
I really want to smoke a joint in the booth at work. I wish that was acceptable
Turns out buying a shit ton of stuff on the internet with your parents credit card but without telling them and before you start working for the summer is a really really really bad idea. This is a prime example of a teenager testing her limits. Whatever I’m paying them back anyway