I don’t really care about admitting the fact that sometimes I dress and act to get men’s attention, because I like attention?? Yeah whatever, sue me. I like to have guys tell me they want to fuck me.
Any way when we were in the car yesterday I was getting such bad anxiety??? I was so scared that we were going to get hit by a car or hit someone else or lose control of the car or SOMETHING terrible!! I don’t know why it got to me so bad yesterday, like, I’m usually nervous and sketched out anytime we’re driving for more than like 10-20 minutes but it was so bad, I was like, pushing down on an imaginary brake pedal the whole time and gasped a few times here and there
be responsible and save every penny
get some sort of new piercing?
Dakota was telling me last night not to buy a $50 Juicy Couture wallet because I “don’t need it” and the first thing I said to argue him was “You own a FEDORA.”
I’m a baby. A BIG BABY WHO CRIES AND THROWS TANTRUMS AND DRINKS ROOT BEER FROM A BOTTLE. THAT’S ME. KRYSTAL THE BIG BABY VICTORY