It’s Like a Party in My Pants
It’s like a party in my pants and, like, all the cool kids will be there, but you’ll mostly be hanging around in the kitchen awkwardly drinking from the same one glass of champagne all evening by the fridge, whilst everybody else will be having fun. It’s not your fault, but still. People will try to talk to you from time to time but you won’t have any of that, your face goes red as if to warn other people to stay the heck away. And they will. What I’m saying is, like, kiss me or something. You fucking dork.