So, apparently what used to be written here was boring so I have been advised by my friends and sister-in-law to inform everyone that I am a peg-legged stripper. But in all actuality I'm 23 and will soon have my degrees in English and American Indian Studies.
Go to Starbucks. Order coffee for “Prisoner 24601”
When they call out your order, jump up and yell “My name is Jean Valjean!”
And if the barista replies with “AND I’M JAVERT,” you tip that motherfucker so hard
you tip them right over the edge of a bridge
you fucking didn’t
do you ever cry because a black haired little boy wandered into your life when you were a kid and made you believe in magic and now many years later he’s still there with you and you just know you will stay at his side always no matter what because he’s just so important
I sat here thinking “That’s a highly specific personal experience for 43k people to relate to” for way too long before figuring out what this post was about