Whippit

So today is another one of those realisation posts. A veritable river of my consciousness. Being whipped as defined by our loveable Internet slang database “Controlled by girlfriend/wife.”

It’s when your girl makes you do things that you don’t want to
I am whipped by my fork-loving lady friend in these ways:
I go to Starbucks with her and don’t buy anything just to spend time with her
When sitting between two hot girls I will always choose her
I give her massages when she asks because that hoe is tired okay and she deserves love
I follow her around like a lost puppy just to bask in the glory of her aura, only to be ditched for her other more attractive guy-friend
I hold her hand to keep her warm but its TOTALLY platonic… π

Of course I didn’t write this bit, it was by this girl sofsan she’s just angry that her boyfriend couldn’t make it today and very sad that I don’t pay her attention when she talks about not shaving herself properly. Well I say he’s her boyfriend they’re 85% a thing but she. still denies it. Sofsan shortly called herself a hot girl above, I suppose she is, thought she never really says it herself, merely relying on Internet parodies to finally admit it to herself. Well darling you’re pretty, otherwise the facetious Nebraska wouldn’t like you. Shoutout to Bofia my fave couple going. (and sorry to God for all their sinning)

So there’s a school formal tomorrow, I’m not going because I can’t be bothered and because fork holder thinks it’s awkward to go in pairs (kidding I’m ditching her to dance with second-rate men) more proof I am not whipped. It’s a ceilidh because our school is Scottish and stuck up and since its St Andrews day we decided to make the ceilidh a Scottish theme. There’s a school play coming up soon and my pals are in it, they should be decent, it turns out one of my friends can actually sing pretty well, plus half the guys are dressing up as women and who doesn’t love lady boys.

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