i lent you my just-bought-twenty-minutes-ago copy of vogue (i don’t have a subscription, dbag. i can seldom afford magazines so this was a treat from my fiance) yesterday to flip through and i found it thrown in the back of the car. i sit down to finally read it tonight and its already dog-eared and literally all of the perfume cards are torn out. WTF omg you will never touch any of my shit again. seriously. don’t come in my house. its like you pissed on my bible, bitch
semi-related, they also didn’t have a single chanel product at sephora last time i went. ugh.
