#American made #beer in a #Dodge #t-shirt #koozie (#Schlafly #Summer #USA #Hoosier #July4th #IndependenceDay #Tumblr) (Taken with Instagram at Where All Shame Is Left Behind)
#pool #beach #swimming #summer (Taken with Instagram at Camp Kocher)
I met this guy a few summers ago and hit it off immediately.
One night we went for a a late night walk around Maplewood
and had a lengthy discussion on our childhoods.
Honeysuckle bushes were in several of the stories.
We were inseparable for two months.
But I had slept with the band’s drummer/his best friend/roommate earlier in the summer and, while the drummer and I weren’t weird about it at all, he was.
Eventually he stopped talking to me.
I was just creeping their band’s page and discovered this song, which has my name in it.
You, my friend, are some kind of creature.
Honeysuckle bushes are so Analicia.
And I won’t take summer love for granted again.
I know you’re not nineteen anymore, but dammit if you’re not going to look like this by the summer…. just, you know, without the Hurley bikini and the MySpace angles.
-Some guy on OKcupid
WHAT THE FUCK!?
I have a bizarre, almost unreasonable hate for capris. I will refrain from going into a rant about them here, because I know you own a pair. It’s okay. Every woman owns at least one pair of capris. I’m not judging you for it, but I hate those things with a passion. They are like…pants that are going through puberty…not yet fully grown from their cute stage as shorts, and no quite an adult yet, leaving them awkward-looking. Effing capris.
Not gonna lie… I was lookin’ mighty fine with my smokey eyeshadow and my little, summer dress AND THEN… Kim does my hair and makes me look like an Amish hooker. Sadness.
Get it, girls!
Today I’m rockin’ an old camouflage tee of my dad’s, Daisy Dukes, and muddy Chucks.