maybe we're from the same star

Guys can I share a passage from heated rivalry book that’s actually extremely beautiful and heartbreaking

He had imagined benign scenarios where they are at a function— maybe the NHL awards— and Shane casually says, “Mom. Dad. Have you met Ilya Rozanov?” And they would meet. And they would shake his hand and Ilya would nod politely at them and tell them it was nice to meet them. Then it would be over, and his parents would shake the hand of the next person who approached them and they would have no idea— no idea— how much of a relief it would be for Shane to have witnessed just that simple contact. To know that the two people he loved the most had touched the skin of Ilya Rozanov, and had looked into his eyes, even for a second, and that Shane now had concrete proof that all three of them existed in the same world.

✿＼(｡-_-｡) “Kick his ass, baby.  I got yo flower.”

thanks for ruining my post jackass

(￣^￣ﾒ)＼✿ "Fine, I'ma keep ya damn flower.“  

happy pride month to this post specifically

I'm pretty sure that any two sufficiently good-looking gen Z kids could make it on TikTok by making videos that are 100% word-for-word re-enactments of Monty Python skits, and the whole audience who has never heard of the flying circus in their lives would lose it over such fresh and original material.

don't give them any ideas

somebody's gotta

reblog if you too are bi and confused or support others’ right to be bi and confused

Annual reblog of Freddie and his magnificent cats.

happy Pride Eve!

You listen to music regularly? Why? Have you even tried quitting? Could you quit? You get music stuck in your head? Wow. You're so ruined and music brained. I bet you make your partners listen to music with you when you have sex. Music addiction has really ruined a whole generation. You know it's not realistic to expect reverb in real life, right? You're probably so desensitized that you don't even feel anything anymore when you hear a bird singing that it wants some fuck.

*goes to Coachella in a white linen suit like an antebellum lawyer, sweating profusely and dabbing at my forehead with a handkerchief* now, I’m no fancy scientist, but would you folk know where a simple gentleman such as myself could obtain some acid? Now, I’m no big city lawyer, but could any of you fine youths point a country boy such as myself in the direction of some fucking acid?

happy ten years to this post

Oh my god where’s that one beach boys photo that looks like a hardcore show

I'm telling you, Blorbo, I have the finest copy of my shows in the basement, please follow me

we can take the Eeby Deeby - no, no, I promise it's not going to Gay Superhell - look, Eebders Deebeorg was an outlier adn should not have been counted

Where did I get this Eeby Deeby? Well, there was this lovely Middle Eastern gentleman who was selling copper, the finest copper—

hnnnnngg I’m trying to get blorbo into my plinko but the eeby deeby I bought from the copper merchant who as it turns out was EXTREMELY disreputable (who is he, to treat me with such contempt?!) is dummy thicc, thicc enough to block the Suez Canal in fact, and the eebert of the deebert is so scrimblo bimblo it keeps alerting the horse

yoU PLINKO BLORBO?! you plinko blorbo like the HORSE?! Oh, Eeby Deeby for Glup Shitto! Eeby Deeby for Glub Shitto for 1000 YEARS

“Eeby Deeby” is, in this case, putting an orange buttered cat face-first into a trashcan