Tongue Out Selfie Quotes

Excuse me,” someone said, interrupting a lively discussion about whom they’d each buy a drink for in the cantina. The whole line looked up. There were two women standing on the sidewalk with bakery boxes. One of them cleared her throat. “We heard that people were camping out for Star Wars . . .” “That’s us!” Troy said, only slightly less enthusiastically than he’d said it yesterday. “Where’s everybody else?” she asked. “Are they around the back? Do you do this in shifts?” “It’s just us,” Elena said. “We’re the Cupcake Gals,” the other woman said. “We thought we’d bring Star Wars cupcakes? For the line?” “Great!” Troy said. The Cupcake Gals held on tight to their boxes. “It’s just . . .” the first woman said, “we were going to take a photo of the whole line, and post it on Instagram . . .” “I can help you there!” Elena said. Those cupcakes were not going to just walk away. Not on Elena’s watch. Elena took a selfie of their line, the Cupcake Gals and a theater employee all holding Star Wars cupcakes—it looked like a snapshot from a crowd— and promised to post it across all her channels. The lighting was perfect. Magic hour, no filter necessary. #CupcakeGals #TheForceACAKEns #SalaciousCrumbs The Gals were completely satisfied and left both boxes of cupcakes. “This is the first time I’ve been happy that there were only three of us,” Elena said, helping herself to a second cupcake. It was frosted to look like Chewbacca. “You saved these cupcakes,” Gabe said. “Those women were going to walk away with them.” “I know,” Elena said. “I could see it in their eyes. I would’ve stopped at nothing to change their minds.” “Thank God they were satisfied by a selfie then,” Gabe said. His cupcake looked like Darth Vader, and his tongue was black. “I’m really good at selfies,” Elena said. “Especially for someone with short arms.” “Great job,” Troy said. “You’ll make someone a great provider someday.” “That day is today,” Elena said, leaning back against the theater wall. “You’re both welcome.” “Errrggh,” Troy said, kicking his feet out. “Cupcake coma.” “How many did you eat?” Gabe asked. “Four,” Troy said. “I took down the Jedi Council. Time for a little midday siesta—the Force asleepens.

Yo momma's so skinny she can use a bracelet as a hula hoop. Yo momma's so thin that if she stands in front of a wall she looks like a crack. Yo momma's so skinny she can't sideways when taking a selfie. Yo momma's so skinny she played the part of the staff in the story of Moses. Yo momma's so skinny she hid behind a stick during a game of hide and seek. Yo momma's so skinny, her pants have one belt loop. Yo momma's so skinny when she is taking a shower, she has to run around to get wet. Yo momma's legs so skinny, she looks like a blow pop. Yo momma's so skinny she can hang glide off a dorito. Yo momma's so skinny I put a dime on her head and people mistook her for a Nail. Yo momma's so skinny, she can grate cheese on her ribs. Yo momma's so skinny, when I slapped her I got a paper cut! Yo momma's so skinny, if she had a sesame seed on her head, she'd look like a push pin. Yo momma's so skinny the Olsen Twins called and said they want their eating disorder back. Yo momma's so skinny, if she turned sideways and stuck out her tongue, she would look like a zipper. Yo momma's so skinny, she can see out the peephole with both eyes. Yo momma's so skinny, she could dive through a fence.

Roman wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me in, lifting his phone to take a selfie. He sticks his tongue out, Taylor flips off the camera, and I just smile. Roman King is an asshole, but he’s mine.