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Facemadics

Are you tired of the lack color & creativity?

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This here is how you need to be dressed when you step out in any city

 

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you want to be dressed nice don’t you especially when you step out in the city we can take care of that for you

A woman was walking down the street

and all of a sudden she notices that she was being chased by a dog or 2 then more dogs begin the follow the dogs had mistakes her for a big vegetable

by the way she was dressed she said Oh my God how could this happen and she had to go and immediately change clothes

and I know you don’t wanna find yourself in a situation like this click this link

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Don’t look like a vegetable

and we guarantee that this will never happen to you

 

You want to make sure that you and your friends don’t end up dressing like this at the end of the coronavirus outbreak

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who knows what’s going to be available at the store

 

Take a look at this link so you don’t run out of swagga 

 

 

I did all the work Can you read all the benefits

 

Colorful Photos Plain Collage Instagram Post.pngclick this link to see more of what you can reap more

 

https://www.redbubble.com/people/facemadics/works/30566405-rapped-in-ribbons-repeat-facemadics?asc=u&c=255750-faces-of-the-future&p=travel-mug&rel=carousel

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http://bit.ly/RedWineFramed

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Excerpt

We had just picked Jeremy up from wrestling practice when Mom told us that one of his classmates, Asher Jenkins, had drowned the night before. She said she’d heard the news from another mother who’d heard it from Jeremy’s sixth grade science teacher, but I knew that he probably hadn’t listened past Asher’s name. He sat sweating in the backseat of our Toyota, still wearing his knee pads, clutching a backpack to his chest. I watched him in the passenger seat’s visor mirror — watched those big ears that stuck out from under his frizzy blond hair, his bony elbows, his eyes fixed on some distant point. He was getting so tall. I’d seen him ask our brother, Chris, to measure him at least a hundred times, interrupting the white paint of the doorframe of the bedroom they shared with gray tick marks, trying to see if he’d grown in the last week, day, hour. When he spoke, his voice was still the voice of a boy, but I knew it would begin to change very soon.

 

http://bit.ly/Journalsfacemadics

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