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Argentina: Desaparecidos

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Double Tom Hardy guys. DOUBLE TOM HARDY. I am excited for this.

This is the only royal baby I’ve ever cared about:

Here’s a warm British hug.

Yeah, that guy is just a local crazy, right?

Was planning on breaking up with a psycho, emotionally abusive high school boyfriend, and discussed it with a friend during lunch. Psycho evidently had spies, and confronted me two periods later in the halls with some unhinged screaming and the handing of a suicide note. I went promptly to the school nurse with said

My story is second hand:

Apparently I’ve just been too nice, or just wanted to get the fuck away, so there are no spectacular break-up tales. Best I can do: At the tender age of 16, my high school love broke up with me in a heartless and shitty way, in front of people, right before Easter, for a mousy lame-ass trumpet playing girl. He was

I was seventeen years old and madly in love with my boyfriend, the effortlessly cool punk guy with an amazing body. He broke up with me by having his best female friend tell me. I am now both embarrassed by the things I did after and sort of proud:

YOUR MOM.

I started sobbing in the middle of karaoke-ing Careless Whispers. Then I went home, collected everyone’s pet poop & mailed it to his office.

I got him banned from his mother’s house, moved in with her myself, and she bought me a puppy.

Got dragged out of a bar by my friend after I got shitfaced and started crying uncontrollably. The cause- “I Wanna Dance With Somebody” came on and I JUST WANTED TO DANCE WITH SOMEBODY WHO LOVES ME.

Not my story but a relative’s.

Step 1: Cut off half my hair and dyed it bright purple at the suggestion of the cute boy in physics with whom I was now free to make out at will (a delightful fact I promptly took non-monogamous advantage of).
Step 2: Put on 20 pounds of muscle doing gymnastics and ballet, earning an ass that got me proposed to weekly

I screamed “Fuck you! I’m moving to France!”

So I guess he’d been planning to give me my walking papers. But after finding out I was pregnant he did the honorable thing; went Dutch on the abortion and stayed in the picture until I managed to go three consecutive days without crying.

My only serious college boyfriend and I were both huge stoners and our relationship mostly revolved around smoking out of his giant, beloved two-foot decorative purple bong named “The Mystery Machine,” having sex and playing Super Smash Bros. Melee. He was in the Army ROTC had to enter the service after college. Since

I was going through a very ugly divorce. My husband cheated multiple times and eventually moved out. While this was going on, I had to change the locks on the doors to my house due to a burglary, and didn’t tell him. One day, he stopped by to get something from the house and couldn’t get in. He flew into a rage and