I Didn’t Choose Sloth Life The Sloth Life Choose Me Womens Ugly Sweater

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I Didn’t Choose Sloth Life The Sloth Life Choose Me Womens Ugly Sweater,

Best I Didn’t Choose Sloth Life The Sloth Life Choose Me Womens Ugly Sweater

He winced as I spoke, so subtly I almost missed it. I could see the I Didn’t Choose Sloth Life The Sloth Life Choose Me Womens Ugly Sweater his mouth tighten. Had I just… annoyed him? “What’s so special up there in them rocks and trees?” He clenched his hands into fists. He was acting like I was sitting behind him in class, asking him for the answers to a test. What was he getting told by the spirit? I leaned in to his ear, “the mountains to the east huh? Whence the drumming and wrath of the fucking spirit cometh – what honey doth thou master pour in thine ear, dickhead?” He whipped his whole body around to face me, glaring at me with a visceral hatred. He had tears in his eyes… this ghost was about to fuckin cry. I was floored. He came at me then, with deliberate movement, a booze-fueled young man’s stride you see in the parking lot of a bar, the kind that brings fists with it. My heart started pounding immediately. I took a step back as though to brace for him. He can’t touch you, dumbass. I forced myself to hold my ground. Right before it happened, I think I said outloud “oh what’re you gonna d-“ Then he screamed in my face. It wasn’t a scream though, it was a fog horn, a dying pig, a sheet of aluminum in a tornado, a terrified kid bleeding to death in a truck on the battlefield. It made my organs shake, I went blind, couldn’t tell up from down. I could smell the noise of his scream, taste it. It felt like all my teeth were splintering in my gums. When he stopped, I realized I was lying in the snow, staring up at Creeps, his body shaking. He turned and stalked away before I’d even realized what happened.

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GenXer here as well, on the older side of the I Didn’t Choose Sloth Life The Sloth Life Choose Me Womens Ugly Sweater. Up until 6th grade, we wore light wash disco bell bottomed high rise jeans, then overnight those went out of fashion and it was mid-rise straight legged or bootcut dark wash jeans (from the GAP) for a long long time until the early 90s. I cannot wear low rises at all (they slip right off my straight hips) so I pretty much stopped wearing jeans in the 2000s. I love high rise and find them to be the most comfortable (even though I’m short) and most flattering. And I really like high rise skinny jeans as they suit my figure. But I’ve always been a sucker for a dramatic flare and have indulged on and off whenever they were a fringe trend. So now I have a pair of flares again and …. it’s so weird. I know they look great, but I feel weird in them, like … “uh, I’ve been here before.” They may look fresh to the younger set but to my eye somehow they feel dated. I would like to add a pair of wide leg jeans but then I consider my 80 year old mom, and that’s what she’s worn for decades. Personally I don’t mind the frayed hem trend and hope it sticks around, as it is quite easy to just cut my jeans to the right length for my short self, no tailor required. Boxy tops can work, but they have to be scaled just so, otherwise like you said, it’s a sloppy mess. And with petites disappearing from the stores, it’s a challenge.