You are living your story

Timon: Ah Pumbaa, look at that little guy. A chip of the old block.  And you gotta know who's gonna raise him!  Pumbaa: His parents?  Timon: Ok, sure get technical. But how's gonna teach him the really important stuff? Like how to belch? And dig for grubs?  I'm telling you buddy, it's gonna be like old times. You,me and the little guy. Rafiki: Hihihi, it is a girl. Timon: Girl... Both: GIRL!?! Oi...  :3 They loved it at the end... ^w^  Asante sana Squash banana, wewe nugi mimi hapana! :3  If there's so much i must be, can i still just be me? The way i am.  Can i trust in my own heart or in my just one part, of some big plan? Even those who are gone are with us as we go on. Your journey has only begun. Tears of pain, tears of joy, one thing nothing can destroy -  is our pride deep inside. We are one.   ♡

Fuck you. I actually thought i liked you bitches! And no, i didn't mean you . :P I almost never do. XD Alan: Hello. I'm Charlie's brother Alan.  I wanna thank you all for coming. I know this is a sad day for all of us.  Blond whore: Speak for yourself.  Alan: O-ok, Uhm, I understand that some of you may have, "mixed" feelings, but, i-i think we can all agree that Charlie lived life to it's fullest and,and gave it everything he had. Brown bitch: Gave me harpies. Chelsea: Clamidia.  Other brown bitch: Vaginal wards. Evelyn: Excuse me, this is my dead son we're talking about. I loved him and i'm devastated that he's gone. Leaving me with nothing but my memories and my regrets and the listing for his beautiful front beach Malibue, with 3 bedrooms and 3 and a half bad's. And a beautiful panoramic oceans view.  Help yourself to brochures out by the coffee.  Alan:.. Thank you, mom. Um Anyway- Evelyn: Open house is Sunday, 13 to 17h. A

Gorgeous.  ♡  Anastasia Dancing pares, painted wings. Things i almost remember. And a song, someone sings, Once upon a december. Someone holds me safe and warm... Horses prance through a silver storm. Figures dancing gracefully, across my memory. Someone holds me safe and warm... Horses prance through a silver storm.  Figures dancing gracefully, across my memory. Far away long ago, glowing dim as an amber.  Things my heart used to know,  things it urns to remember... And a song someone sings...  Once upon a December...