trying to explain sports to my gay friend: so imagine death in venice

let’s play pretend okay so you walk into my apartment at ingolstadt and the first thing you see is a creature stretched out on a table with yellow skin that scarcely covers the work of muscles and arteries beneath, his hair of a lustrous black and flowing, his teeth of a pearly whiteness, but these luxuriances only forming a more horrid contrast with his watery eyes, his shrivelled complexion, and straight black lips. what’s your next move. my clothes are off btw. it’s anyone’s game

Keep salting the wound I'm close

my job in the 1930s was to hang around the docks and blow all the union guys

Babe we’re just like dennis and george miles aha. You don’t know who that is?