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My mother took a teaching engagement in the Caribbean when I was in middle school. We lived in Philly when she shopped for the trip. I had to wear corduroy pants, not shorts, in the summer! Add to that the fact that I hit puberty at 10 and you can imagine the discomfort and funk.
From Philly to the Caribbean, in summer, in corduroy pants, during puberty? You’re halfway to a DC Comics villain origin story. “And that’s why, Batman, today you’ll face the wrath of the Gaggler!”
Does she question why you don’t talk to her anymore?
Simmering in my man gravy.
After am Weekend?! What the hell? Besides: if you’re on a music festival and the smell of alcohol and/or weed combined with the smell of canned ravioli and instant coffee does not drown any other, you’re doing it wrong, matte
I know. You’re welcome.
Artist username checks out
The lady on the bottom is really not into the murkyness.
Quality
If your balls smell that potent after just a weekend, your problems began before any of that teehee
Ah yes, me Mentos. The not so fresh maker.
