Random
Source Code
Random
Human who is sweet, kind, and surprisingly perverted. Can be manipulative in the nicest way. She is jack of all trades whether it’s art, writing, or music she can do it all. Has big dreams but is terrible at saving. Has a strange addiction to old white men but we love her anyway. She is very loyal and you should never let her go.
Omg did you see, joyce is reading smut again.
Joyce is a very talented boy, he's funny, he's good at athletics, he's very strategic, he's always 2 steps ahead, he's strong
Joyce is a very funny boy, he is famous, he is good at athletics, he is strong
Joyce is a really cool guy
A middle name for cocksucking whores
You can tell her middle names Joyce, ew what a hoe
Always thinks she is very attractive and self obsessed but is actually behaves very inappropriate and annoying around guy she like. She falls in love very easily and confesses the minute she falls in love with "her" guy! Meeting her will be something you will regret because she likes to spread fake rumours about crushes just to entertain herself. Trust me, you will not want to meet her in your life since she will only cause you trouble. She is also very easy to cry.
The type of street hooker who would give you a discount if you let her eat your scrum
Joyce gave me a freebie once she realized I was opened to rimjobs
Centre figure of the joycism mythology. Born amidst salt and smoke it is believed to have died and resurected a million times, for what is dead may never die but rises again stronger. After having walked the path of life, love and disspair many times, Joyce searches for a soulmate to walk along it one more time.
Oh my sweet summer Joyce, what do you know about Joyce? Joyce is for the Joyce, when the Joyce fall a sevety-three and a half joyce deep. Fear is for the long Joyce, when Joyce hides for years and Joyce is born and lives and dies, all in darkness. That is the time for Joyce, my little Joyce, when the white Joyce moves through the woods. Thousands of years ago there came a Joyce that lasted a generation. Joyce froze to death in its castle, same as Joyce its hut. And Joyce smothered its babies rather than see them starve, and wept and felt the tears freeze its cheeks. So is this the sort of story you like, Joyce?
James Joyce, My story