#i mean duh that's the case with most art ESPECIALLY poetry

[bam-monsterhospital]

some media i was watching with kait: -implies edgar allen poe's approach to his own work was lackadaisy and impulsive- me: -visceral insta-flashback of grade 8, my first introduction to poe and his work, and my utter 13-yr-old frustration with learning he hyper-planned everything and emphasized the only way to make any poetry work at all is to super-mega-hyper plan everything, like the fucking capricorn he was, aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa-

[winifredsandersonsbitch]

Everybody Needs a Hobby

Spike x Summers! Reader

Warnings: some colorful language, implied smut, S5 spoilers mentioned

Description: You’re frustrated with the crude reality of life in Sunnydale. You want something you can love that won’t go up in flames. One night, you pick up a poetry book from the library and Spike stops by to give you a vivid reading.

You need something to take you out of the violence of your everyday life.

You try painting. Relaxing watercolors aided by books you pick up at the library, bright acrylics splashed across canvases. Soon your room is filled with artwork that ranges from clumsy to talented. You start giving paintings away to make space. Birthday presents for your friends, surprises for elderly neighbors, just-because gifts for Spike to make his crypt more colorful (he laughs at them, hurts your feelings a little, but the next time you’re in his bed you see them peeking out from behind a curtain). It works, for awhile, but you crave something less solitary. Plus your artwork takes a darker turn when you wake up from nightmares, which is frequently.

You turn to yoga classes at the YMCA. Twisting your body into poses is a different kind of hell after a night out with Buffy, but the stretches take so much of your focus that they force you to stop overthinking. Then your instructor turns out to be a former genie with a sinister agenda and you have to drop the class. It was getting expensive anyway.

You join a intermural volleyball team, but after a gruesome loss one of your teammates takes up the dark arts. You start baking and almost burn the house down. Even community service gets dangerous when the blood bank is ambushed by vampires.

“I’m just so frustrated,” you explain to Dawn one morning at breakfast. “I mean, I love all of these things and I want them to work out, but Sunnydale poisons everything. It’s like I can’t even have a hobby on the Hellmouth.”

She peels a banana with manicured fingers. You dropped her and her friend off at the salon last week and now it’s like every motion has to be fit for a hand commercial. “Fighting vampires is a hobby.”

“No, it’s a full-time job,” Buffy says, swiping an apple off the counter. “And (Y/n) already has two of those.”

“Well, there you go.” Dawn shrugs on her backpack. “You don’t need a hobby.”

You do, though. Spike insists on supplementing your income with his, so you’ve cut down your hours at the office and you’re only taking weekends at the diner. For the first time in years, you have time to relax. You don’t want to waste it.

Buffy spots the sour look on your face and nudges your arm. She drops the core in the trash and washes her hands under the sink.

“Maybe it’s time to go back to school,” Buffy suggests. “I know it’s the middle of the semester, but you could apply for next year.”

You don’t want to make her feel bad, especially since she’s in the same situation as you, but school doesn’t feel urgent when you’ve got the apocalypse going on every other year. Plus you don’t even know what you’d major in. There’s no degree for monster fighting.

“Yeah, maybe.” You finish your yogurt, check the time on your watch. “Come on, Dawn, I’ll drive you to school.”

After you drop her off, you head into the office. It’s slow today. The coffee machine gurgles to life every thirty minutes to keep the employees awake and the copier sits silent in disuse. Barbara and Anne giggle together in the annex over a tin of buttered cookies. The phone rings at the reception desk only twice in the morning. When you answer, no one’s there.

You spend most of the day looking up courses that you might be interested in. There are a few that catch your eye, but you can’t fathom how you’d put them together into a degree.

One of them, creative writing, jumps out at you. You used to write when you were in your early teens. Mostly angstsy poetry about how no one understood you and how invisible you felt. It’s embarrassing to look back on now, but then it had felt like a statement to the world.

Writing made you feel known. You gave it up when you went to college, mostly because it seemed impossible that it would ever amount to anything and partly because you didn’t have the time or energy to focus on it. College seems silly now, all that effort for a paper degree when you know what’s really out there, but if you went back you wouldn’t be going just for the degree. You’d be going because you love to learn.

It’s not so important that you get published and famous anymore. You don’t need the spotlight when you’ve already got the most important job in the world: taking care of your sisters. It’s fine to work in the office and at the diner where you’re nothing more to people than another employee. You know you’re making a difference, even if they never will.

But your heart aches a little for what you might’ve had if life hadn’t gotten in the way.

That night, you stop by the library to pick up some books. Just to see if you still have a passion for them the way you used to. Sunnydale’s library is open until ten p.m. and you stay curled up in an armchair in the fiction section until close. You check out four books to take with you: a poetry anthology, Little Women, a collection of short stories from around the world, and a YA novel. You figure that if you try all different genres, maybe you’ll land on something you love.

Your walk back to the house is uneventful, thankfully (having just renewed your library card, you don’t want to have it revoked if something sinister takes a bite out of your books). You have a late night snack with Dawn since Buffy is still out hunting and then take your books up to your room.

You leave the window open so you won’t have to get up if Spike drops by and curl up in bed with the anthology, a notebook on your bedside table in case of inspiration. You’re not totally sure when he comes in; it feels like hours and seconds since you opened the book. The words are swirling around in the soft light of the room, bouncing off the bed frame and the dresser, colliding with your closet door and knocking the paintings askew in their frames.

“Shouldn’t leave your window open like that, love. Something wicked might find its way in.”

His shirt is off already, you register, as he peels the book from your fingers and kisses you deeply. You make a noise of protest against his mouth and he pulls back, eyebrows raised.

“What the hell book is that, to have you so absorbed you don’t even notice me come in?” He picks it up, dangles it in front of you. “Can’t be porn. Because, obviously, what you’ve got in front of you is better than porn. You Summers. All repressed and self-righteous. If it’s the bloody Bible or The Guide to Enlightenment or some—”

“Don’t make fun of me, William,” you retort, snatching it out of his grasp. “It’s a good book.”

“Must be,” he scoffs. Then he reads the cover. His features flicker through three different emotions in the span of five seconds. “Poetry?”

“Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not— Here, give me that.”

Grudgingly, you hand it over, and he settles in between your legs, his head resting on your breasts. He picks out the filthiest, most sexual poem he can find (which is still incredibly tame by his usual standards) and recites:

“‘I want a red dress. I want it flimsy and cheap, I want it too tight, I want to wear it until someone tears it off me. I want it sleeveless and backless, this dress, so no one has to guess what’s underneath. I want to walk down the street—’”

His voice is low, soft, like he’s switched into someone else in the moments between his choosing the poem and his reading it. It makes you shiver. His hand slides up your thigh, at odds with his careful, thoughtful voice.

“‘I want to walk like I’m the only woman on earth and I can have my pick. I want that red dress bad. I want it to confirm your worst fears about me—’” At this, he shifts position, moves the underwear beneath your pajama shorts aside and slides a finger up. You bite your lip. “‘—To show how little I care about you or anything except what I want.’ I like that one, what about you? ‘Confirm your worst fears?’ ‘How little I care about you or anything except what I want?’ Sound like someone you know?”

You hardly realize he’s switched from the poem to conversation until he pauses his ministrations beneath the bedsheet. He’s angled toward you now, one hand twisted under the sheets and his back against your inner thigh, a toothy grin on his face as he repays you for earlier.

“You’re such an ass.”

He ignores this instead of cutting in with his typical I’m evil, duh speech, nuzzles your neck. “I’d like to get you into a dress like that, love. Have you walk down the street in it, showing off—” He sucks at the skin, hard. You cry out. “But then we have to have a way of letting everyone know you’re mine, don’t we?”

“Spike.” His name comes out a moan, a quiet prayer.

“You want another poem? I’m liking this book.”

He returns to his regularly upright seated position, pretends to adjust his reading glasses, then flips through the pages, leaving you wanting. He lands on a sonnet, airing the words out to the open room as you squirm. Finally, you decide to take matters into your own hands, but he stops you, bursting into a new stanza.

“Here in the electric dusk your naked lover tips the glass high and the ice cubes fall against her teeth...”

He replaces your fingers with his own, guiding you through the poem with a small circles. When you beg, he undresses for you, sets the book down.

“You’re just an erotic hallucination,” he breathes, touching everything as if to make sure that the line isn’t true.

He’s teasing, but a part of him clings to these words in a sad, sweet way. When he’s finished and you’re spent, he rolls over onto the other side of the mattress and his mood shifts again.

“I loved a girl once,” he says, and it stings, even though he talked about Dru often when you first started up and even before, like he wished to hurt you into wanting him. “I wrote her this poem. I used to write a lot, before. I was hopeless that way.”

His voice isn’t soft now. It’s almost angry, like he has been during sex at some points. Passionate and raw and mad at someone that wasn’t you. Flickering back and forth between past and present.

“You probably would’ve liked William,” Spike says. He barks a strangled laugh. “He was just your type. A scrawny mama’s boy who lived through his books.”

He was almost gentle earlier. You can’t understand why he switches like this, between acting like he can’t go on without you and twisting the knife. You roll onto your side.

“Might’ve been, once,” you murmur. This pillow talk is almost worse than the nights when he leaves right after to get his fix, claiming you’ve made him hungry. “Boys like that wouldn’t look twice at me now.”

“Don’t beat yourself up, love.”

You can hear the smile in his voice though. He likes that your self-esteem is low. It feeds his ego, that he can hurt you even though he can’t drain you dry. He’s soulless, after all. On some level, he probably does need you like he says, but it’s not pure. It never will be. He can try to help you when it suits him, restrain himself from severing ties because he craves closeness, but he’s still Spike.

“They’re scared of me now.” Your arms cross under your breasts. You’re not self-flagellating tonight, not really. You’re in the mood for the truth. “They know.”

“Know what?”

“They know, on some level—” It sounds silly, only it isn’t, not to you. “—what I’ve done. And no amount of watercolors or yoga classes is going to change that.”

You didn’t realize it until you said it out loud, how much you were trying to be the girl you were before your mother’s death. How much you missed her and the almost casual slayage that was common before Glory. Sure, the world almost ended a couple times, but you knew how it would turn out in your heart. This— with Buffy, with Dawn— you have no idea.

You lapse into silence, purposefully even your breathing out so it seems you’ve fallen asleep. He gets up not long after, rustles around your room for a moment in a way that makes you nervous, and then pulls the window shut behind him as he exits onto the roof. You fall asleep at some point, drifting in and out of a dream featuring you at the office in a nightmare distortion of your boss’s birthday party until your alarm goes off.

You sit up and smack the button off, sending a piece of paper cascading to the floor. It isn’t until after you’ve brushed your teeth and fully woken up that you retrieve it. It takes you a full thirty seconds to process the first line of the pretentious and somewhat offensive poem Spike left you.

It’s disgusting. It’s explicit. It’s replete with words that you have to look up.

You love it.

When you go down to breakfast, Dawn cracks jokes about the dazed smile on your face until Buffy shushes her and sends her off to finish getting ready for school.

“Seriously, are you okay though?” she asks when the two of you are left to yourselves. You could ask her the same question, with the already scabbing gash on her forehead, but you settle for a quick shake of the head. You feel like you’re burning up, like she can see through you to all the things you did last night.

“No— I mean, I didn’t sleep well.” You pour yourself a cup of juice and take a seat at the table, trying to suffocate your grin. “But I think I found my new hobby.”

[fanwarriorsunite4life]

So my bad anon, I totally ended up screwing up your ask and shiz by accident but i promise i got it- you wanted me to answer all questions so you got it:

lets get personal.

1: 6 of the songs you listen to most?

Its been varying a SHIT ton over the last two months especially, but ATM i currently love:

Body on Fire by Maggie Rose

Too Many Love Songs by Maggie Rose (notice a trend?)

B-A-B-Y by Carla Thomas

I Don’t Believe You - Pink

Life of the Party - All Time Low

Little Do You Know - Alex and Sierra

2: If you could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?

um, all the people I’m gonna meet at ClexaCon in April! Celebs, other fans, and all! IM SO EXCITED ITS GONNA BE THE BEST FUCKING WEEKEND.

3: Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 23, give me line 17.

There isnt a book next to me? theres random magazines on the kitchen table. page 23 is an add for Poise Impressa bladder leakage shit lol

4: What do you think about most?

I kinda really want to plead the fifth on this, but probably two things: how I want to make my work ethic better and make a better difference and how I dont feel I can do that until I get my personal shit together. And how I really want a certain someone to be at my side while I do that so I can be on theirs too. guess thats 3.

5: What does your latest text message from someone else say?

From my lil sis: “Okay, np”

6: Do you sleep with or without clothes on?

lmao it depends. If im really exhausted, then i may sleep without a shirt. If im with a SO then I will sleep naked, but I dont ever do that myself unless I’m just that hungover or something. So clothes it is. 

7: What’s your strangest talent?

I honestly dont know lol. erm... let me get back to you on that. Does it count if my left leg is wayyy more flexible than my right? dont ask me why. i have no clue 

8: Girls… (finish the sentence); Boys… (finish the sentence)

girls are a gift to the world. boys are a gift to the world. 

9: Ever had a poem or song written about you?

Not that I am aware of. Fun (not fun) fact: I’m way more afraid of not being spoken of than being spoken of poorly. idk man. if anyone has written a poem or song about me, plz feel free to share

10: When is the last time you played the air guitar?

holy shit, i have no clue. usually im more of an air drums person. in that case, yesterday. 

11: Do you have any strange phobias?

I HATE SPUDS ON POTATOES SPUDDY POTATOES SCARE THE SHIT OUT OF ME DONT PLAY 

12: Ever stuck a foreign object up your nose?

not that i reminder? maybe a coin or something as a kid? its very possible.

13: What’s your religion?

if i identified with anything, it would be an agnostic universalist.

14: If you are outside, what are you most likely doing?

hanging out with friends and family

15: Do you prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it?

behind, but i do have a secret desire to be in front of it. my insecurities currently outweigh my ego in putting myself in front of it, but if someone asked me to do it, i prob would. people just dont ask.

16: Simple but extremely complex. Favorite band?

Halestorm. Without a doubt.

17: What was the last lie you told?

oh god. I probably told one while canvassing today. I said i donated to one of the organizations that i represent but i dont. oops. did it to convince people that they are good orgs to donate too (in my defence, they ARE and they are wonderful orgs, i just dont have the money to donate)

18: Do you believe in karma?

yes, but i dont really use karma for consistent rationalization

19: What does your URL mean?

WE ARE ALL FAN WARRIORS OF OUR OWN FANDOMS AND WE SHOULD ALL FUCKING UNITE IN OUR AWESOMENESS

20: What is your greatest weakness; your greatest strength?

Greatest weakness? I’m loyal to a fault and will fight for what I want till the bitter end. I’m recently admitting that I have the martyr complex, im pretty sure. Strength? You get me passionate about something, you gain my love, then I’m all in. I’ll work my ass off for whatever that is. 

21: Who is your celebrity crush?

Kat barrell and Natasha Negovanlis, as of rn. but i love so many others

22: Have you ever gone skinny dipping?

nope

23: How do you vent your anger?

i dont. i bottle it up and try to avoid it. I’ve been trying to go to the gym tho; that helps when i actually do it. writing helps too, when i do it. Definitely need to find a better way to deal with my emotions. its harder to find time during adult life mayn.

24: Do you have a collection of anything?

comics, poetry books, my own writings, quarter collection... probably something else im not thinking of

25: Do you prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online?

FACETIME IS WHERE ITS AT

26: Are you happy with the person you’ve become?

Yes and no. 

27: What’s a sound you hate; sound you love?

Sound I hate? loud city noises, particularly construction shit. Love? ... I hate myself, but the sound of people I love telling me they love me too. SHUTUP ITS A SOUND I SAID NOTHING WHAT

28: What’s your biggest “what if”?

Usually its “What if I didn’t fuck up?” or “What if I was reincarnated into something?”

29: Do you believe in ghosts? How about aliens?

I wanna believe in ghosts but i cant say i do. Aliens: hell yeah.

30: Stick your right arm out; what do you touch first? Do the same with your left arm.

Right - kitchen towel and my ECU bag and keys. Left - magazine and table

31: Smell the air. What do you smell?

my house’s normal smell. and food i just ate.

32: What’s the worst place you have ever been to?

My own mind at its worst. Or, physical place, probably a mental hospital.

33: Choose: East Coast or West Coast?

I cant say; I’ve never been West. So East for now until I see the West.

34: Most attractive singer of your opposite gender?

I like never think about this. um. Zayn is cute?

35: To you, what is the meaning of life?

Finding a reason to breathe. Sometimes its family, friends, work, money, power- I think everyone’s meaning of life is different.

36: Define Art.

anything you make to express yourself or help yourself heal.

37: Do you believe in luck?

I kinda have too, I was an athlete.

38: What’s the weather like right now?

dark and cloudy.

39: What time is it?

7:07 pm and im totally running late to pick up my sis. (update - finishing this around 11:11 ooo make a wish cause i had to go get my sis so)

40: Do you drive? If so, have you ever crashed?

Yes. Never “crashed” but have hit someone before and have been hit.

41: What was the last book you read?

A poetry book by Lauren Zuniga. That counts.

42: Do you like the smell of gasoline?

No, but I like the smell of paint. 

43: Do you have any nicknames?

Laur-Laur, jiggles, cheesecake, Lo-ren, bean-bean.. others I dont think I should name i guess

44: What was the last film you saw?

Baby Driver

45: What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had?

Injury? Concussion. worst fucking thing of my life. it really was my fault though.

46: Have you ever caught a butterfly?

no

47: Do you have any obsessions right now?

oh god yes. if you know me, you know i always obsess. right now, carmilla and wynonna earp are my top two. easily.

48: What’s your sexual orientation?

bisexual, preference for women, fight me

49: Ever had a rumour spread about you?

I honestly dont know

50: Do you believe in magic?

I want too.

51: Do you tend to hold grudges against people who have done you wrong?

yeah. Well, yes and no. i dont hold a grudge to never have them apart of my life usually, but i never forget what they did to me. never.

52: What is your astrological sign?

Leo

53: Do you save money or spend it?

lol spend. i need to save. so bad.

54: What’s the last thing you purchased?

groceries

55: Love or lust?

I know this may shock people that know me, but love. lust isnt any good without it. thats what i would pick if i had to choose, but i rather like the idea they exist together. they can exist separately, but they go best together for me personally.

56: In a relationship?

no, but i hope things will get better.

57: How many relationships have you had?

ones I actually really loved being in wholeheartedly? 1. total? 4. I’d say 5 but im not really counting one of them lol.

58: Can you touch your nose with your tongue?

hell yeah

59: Where were you yesterday?

work and then home feeling down. then i played my video game, Just cause 3, till midnight

60: Is there anything pink within 10 feet of you?

magazine

61: Are you wearing socks right now?

yes

62: What’s your favourite animal?

kangaroos and zebras

63: What is your secret weapon to get someone to like you?

... be a huge fucking dork and hope they dont fucking hate me

64: Where is your best friend?

.......the ones talking to me? charlotte, greensboro, greenville, raleigh (NC), texas... the one not talking to me? ... virginia/dc area

65: Give me your top 5 favourite blogs on Tumblr.

any of the ones with funny text posts/memes on wynonna earp and carmilla

66: What is your heritage?

im a white asshole with some native american in me. Choctaw. I need to learn more about my family history AND remember it.

67: What were you doing last night at 12AM?

finishing up playing my name

68: What do you think is Satan’s last name?

angelface

69: Be honest. Ever gotten yourself off?

BWAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA dear fuck yes. duh. oh my fucking god im laughing so hard at this.

70: Are you the kind of friend you would want to have as a friend?

loyal to a fault and there at your beck and call? yeah. not always the best listener? nah

71: You are walking down the street on your way to work. There is a dog drowning in the canal on the side of the street. Your boss has told you if you are late one more time you get fired. What do you do?

I’m gonna save the fucking dog and my boss can kiss my damn ass.

72: You are at the doctor’s office and she has just informed you that you have approximately one month to live. a) Do you tell anyone/everyone you are going to die? b) What do you do with your remaining days? c) Would you be afraid?

I’d definitely tell people. At first I wouldn’t know how, and id contemplate if its important enough to tell or not, but eventually i would. id start with those close to me. idk if id want to tell everyone. id want to travel a damn lot with those i love. go new places, try new things, build as many memories as possible. because hell yeah id be afraid. I’m terrified of death and the afterlife; not knowing what happens after we pass. 

73: You can only have one of these things; trust or love.

I think love is built on trust, so love. trust isnt always built on love.

74: What’s a song that always makes you happy when you hear it?

love on top, beyonce. literally saved my life freshman year of college.

75: What are the last four digits in your cell phone number?

F8ME

76: In your opinion, what makes a great relationship?

kinda a big one, especially for myself lately. um. I think a great relationship has a good foundation. because in the end, every relationship faces struggles and is gonna be “tested”, for lack of a better word. and what can we turn back to when we feel things arent where they need to be? the foundation. its like a house; if somethings wrong with it, but the foundation is still sturdy, its probably possible and worth fixing. if the foundation is cracked, its more risky; if the foundation is completely crushed, then its probably not a great relationship anymore.

77: How can I win your heart?

Unless you’re the person who currently has my heart right now, you can’t. or if you’re a dog. dogs win my heart. if you’re a dog, congrats. the person who has my heart has to share. sorry, i dont make the rules.

78: Can insanity bring on more creativity?

how is this a question? the craziest fucking people in the world are the most creative. Yes, yes, and more yes.

79: What is the single best decision you have made in your life so far?

this is intense. hmmmm. making a tumblr and going back on it in college. yeah. it led to my last relationship. best damn thing that ever happened to me.

80: What size shoes do you wear?

10 or 11

81: What would you want to be written on your tombstone?

I’d want someone else to write a poem or something about me. i dont want to be buried. cremation bitch (after taking my organs out for science of course)

82: What is your favourite word?

currently i really just like cussing. fuck.

83: Give me the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word; heart.

the name of my current ex. 

84: What is a saying you say a lot?

We accept the love we think we deserve.

85: What’s the last song you listened to?

i legit am trying to look at my iphone to see what last played in my car, but its being an asshole. I wanna say the last i remember is Craving you by Thomas Rhett. im already listening to wayy more country than i usually do lately.

86: Basic question; what’s your favourite colour/colours?

in order: purple, blue, red

87: What is your current desktop picture?

A quote that says: “i know you’re sad, so i wont tell you to have a good day. Instead, I’ll simply advice you to have a day. Stay Alive, feed yourself well, wear comfortable clothes, and dont give up on yourself just yet. it’ll get better. until then, have a day.”

88: If you could press a button and make anyone in the world instantaneously explode, who would it be?

Can I make an entire building explode? preferably -cough- a building that houses certain gov officials i am not happy with -cough-?

89: What would be a question you’d be afraid to tell the truth on?

Any question that I know would upset someone. I’m working on trying to not be honest to a fault. to be honest when need be, and to know when i dont need to be brutally honest. im terrified of being too honest again in general.

90: One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by MUMMIES. The mummies aren’t really doing anything, they’re just standing around your bed. What do you do?

honestly, scream and be frozen in fear. idk man. wheres my baseball bat when i need it? idc if they arent doing anything, they need to GTFO of my room.

91: You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow you with the super-power of your choice! What is that power?

teleportation

92: You can re-live any point of time in your life. The time-span can only be a half-hour, though. What half-hour of your past would you like to experience again?

holy crap. wow. a half hour? idk. theres a lot. a recent one is the hayley kiyoko concert though. that concert was just absolutely phenomenal. 100/10

93: You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?

I wouldnt erase any horrible experience, because they made me who i am and helped me learn what i know. if i hadnt experienced what i experienced, that one thing not happening can change my entire life.

94: You have the opportunity to sleep with the music-celebrity of your choice. Who would it be?

Honestly, right now, I wouldnt. and i dont think i ever would. i get too starstruck easily and have way too much respect and awe for the celebrities i like. i honestly do think of them as higher beings than me (not gods but like, ya know, out of my league lmao) so nah. now if we become friends and theyre a cuddler? then yes i will SLEEP next to them. SLEEP.

95: You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go?

i have that crazy urge to travel like a crazy person rn, so if i only had one free plane ticket, i’d go somewhere i otherwise couldnt right now, like italy. i really want to go to italy one day.

96: Do you have any relatives in jail?

not that im aware of, but who knows

97: Have you ever thrown up in the car?

...actually yes! I was severely dehydrated once and my mom had me drink 3 bottles of water back to back. then we got in the car and as she started driving, i got sick, so she pulled over and i sat there getting ready to vomit when a cop pulled over and was like “hey, you okay?” and my mom just explained i was sick, and as he walked over to look at me thats when i threw up ALLLLL that water. he stepped back so quick and was all like “do you want me to call an ambulance?”. it was great. thats how you get rid of cops. throw up in front of them (sarcasm)

98: Ever been on a plane?

Yup! ive flown to new hampshire and kansas before.

99: If the whole world were listening to you right now, what would you say?

probably some long ass rant about how fucked up the world is and how we need to turn around our governments and get them to work back for the people, not for fucking corporations and capitalism, or the capitalistic aspects of socialism.