Beauty or brains?
Fuck that, it’s not a dichotomy. Let’s not act like mascara glues girls eyes so shut that they can’t read a word of Dickens or solve a trig problem. Let’s talk about how no boy has ever been asked if he’d rather get his Bachelor’s or get married; no boy has ever been told that he’s too handsome to run for office. So why cover up my tits so you can take me seriously?
Beauty or brains? I’ll take ‘em all, thanks.
How to know which boy you like:
1. Get very drunk
2. You will cry about the boy you like
- Clairabelle Ann (via trippynymph)
I love that the thing I’m a fan of most is hockey. Unlike actors or singers, hockey players are so accessible. I get to go to warm ups and be divided by just a sheet of glass. I can wait after practice if I want to meet them. Heck, I’d probably run into some of them just by hanging near a certain bar district. Some people never get anywhere near as close to their heroes as us hockey fans do. I feel sorry for those people.