He probably thinks that it's convenient way to store his crewneck but he's wrong. At least make an effort to stash it somewhere secure like behind a speaker because I would rather he toss the garment into the mouth of a live lion than twist it around his waist while we're dancing together. I don't know if he's trying out for Disgruntled Beat Poet #4 in the
Singles movie sequel or what but just knowing that there's fabric flapping around his backside like an open hatch on Santa's pajamas is making me look around the place for someone else to talk to. How am I supposed to sustain eye contact with him when it looks like he's getting a hug from a clingy third grader the entire night? I can't!
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Even Brody knows it's grody |
You know who can pull off this look? Gaunt waifs: end of list. You can sling your shirt around your hips if and only if your first name is either Ashley or Mary Kate and your last name is Olsen. You have to be drinking a venti-sized cup of some bullshit, have a purse roughly half the size of your body, and be in a hurry to buy cigarettes/ gas for your car/ a bottle of Smartwater. That's it.
You gotta be doing a walk of shame between two mansions, not trying to grind on my leg to a Missy Elliot song. It's not hot so knock it off!
1 comments:
truth.
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