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A very beautiful and amazing person. Has the biggest RBF in the world but you know her so well that you know shes secretly happy. She is very honest and oklahoma on her period. She is overall a really good person to have and you are a very lucky and W person if you have a Joyce as your girlfriend
Me: Glarp
Joyce: SHUT THE FUCK UP BITCH (cutely)
Self proclaimed "GODESS" Joyce is a temper tantrum midget with the highest expectations to spite her own miserable life, however, she is definitely supportive and will always promise to be there for you.. Well an hour late.. Her diet consists of ice-cream , Lindt and did I mention ice-cream? A diabetic, depressed and somehow living human. Joyce is the most likely individual to die in a fire, due to her inability to replace the batteries in her fire alarm. Due to her inability to refuse anything ever, Joyce’s will often get roped into doing something they never wanted to do in the first place, but will end up being the life of the party anyway.
Person 1: Hey Joyce do you wanna go start a street fight in the middle of the city and commit multiple crimes with us? I promise it'll be fun
Joyce:
Person 2: Just say no. You can do it. Don't be roped into their stupid criminal activities.
Joyce: sure, I'm in.
Plural of joist is joists. Due to the similarity with the mostly girls' given name, some people dumb it down, by humour or perhaps ignorance, and say joyce/joyces.
What size steel joyces I need for my floors and ceilings? I'm using steel and masonry to build my house?
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
A Joyce likes to make things about her. Joyce’s often say they’re moving to Boston, but don’t actually move to Boston.
Probably has a boyfriend called cole
OMG DID YOU KNOW JOYCE AND COLE ARE DATING
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