Writing “dropped” on the family tree the way Grandma writes “deceased.” TSM.

Red lips. Black dress. TSM.

Spending finals week “studying” at the bars. TSM.

All you need is love…and vodka. TSM.

“I have a name, you know.”
“I’m sure you do.” TSM.

Is it weird that I still retweet TSM even though I graduated? TSTC.

Little’s first shack shirt. TSM.