Sh*t, it’s 2am, I meant to go to Bed Several Hours Ago: An Autobiography
Oops, It’s 4am, I Should Probably Go to Bed: A Memoir.
Bloody Hell, Is that the Sunrise?: A Thrilling Conclusion to the Trilogy of Regret
Fuck it, I’ll Just Attempt to Stay Up ‘Till Sundown: A Spin-Off
What Fucking Day Is It Anymore?: The Movie Adaptation
the title of my autobiography is going to be “that’s not how you spell my name”
thefattyfriendlyuselesscrazyhoe a proposé :
when I was little, I went through a phase where I’d wear my Spiderman costume under all my clothes, so I wore it for about 3 years straight and my mom never found out until one day when we were at a family party, I was wearing the costume under a really fancy and expensive dress, and someone started choking on something so I ripped off the dress to reveal the costume to try and save them, and I think my mom just about had a heart attack
you touched my heeaaart you touched my sooouul
you changed my liiiife and all my goals
and love is bliiind and that I knew when
my heart was blinded byyyy youWe have a new 5 Euro bill and I can feel the pain.
You may call me V.
beyonce greets a fan during her 2013 inauguration ceremony
@ 04:25pm
tagged as
■ kate moss
■ model
■ fashion
■ photoshoot
■ black and white
■ michel haddi
When I was playing Mystique in X-Men, I remember thinking, If I’m going to be naked in paint in front of the entire world, I’m going to look like a woman. I’m going to have curves and have boobs and have a butt. Because girls are going to look at that, and if I look like a scarecrow, they are going to think, Oh, that’s normal. It’s not normal. I’m just so sick of these young girls with diets. I remember when I was 13 and it was cool to pretend to have an eating disorder because there were rumors that Lindsay Lohan and Nicole Richie were anorexic. I thought it was crazy. I went home and told my mom, “Nobody’s eating bread, I just had to finish everyone’s burgers”. I think it’s really important for girls to have people to look up to and feel good about themselves.
