my imagination

you: (looking at your own pictures) popsugar? [you say aloud in dismay]

you: well at least she's finally noticing, i'm just wondering why i had to be featured on popsugar to get her attention...

me: (looking at your pictures) popsugar? [i think to myself]
i'm sure he's like. everywhere.

well i know he is.

but popsugar?

that's weird.

maybe they are trying to become more mainstream and less teeny bopper.

omg i can't believe i just typed teenybopper.

wow.

i really need to go get a life.

if only there was one just waiting for me somewhere.

i called my dad and he's making excuses as to why he hasn't brought me lunch and it's 5:00 sharp.

it's dinner time.

i guess i'm just really selfish and ungrateful.

part of me feels like i deserve to eat and part of me feels like i'm worthy of starvation and i don't know which half is stronger.

i really want to complain about it but no one will listen.

i'm eating a bag of nacho cheese doritos and i feel like a warthog. pumba

i'm not pumba

I AM MUFASA.

whatever.

what if i'm actually scar?

that's a horrible thought.

he like killed mufasa.

my parents are a piece of shit.

end of story.

yeah i'm definately scar.

i'm not worthy of ruling the kingdom.

i'm just a delusional lion who hangs around with imaginary hyenas.

and i literally stabbed my brother in the back and threw my nephew out the window.


that's actually what happened.