conspiringly

*looks at the moon* well arent you gonna help me bitch

choose love

I really try to challenge Canadian stereotypes at every opportunity but today I was walking down Young St. in Toronto and a firetruck honked very loudly and I clutched my chest and said “MY WORD” and as it drove past, a fireman leaned out of the window and apologized to me  so I just don’t know

This is the American Gothic. If you’ve never been to the USA, this image sums it up pretty well.

I had to find out where this really was because looking at it, I felt like I knew exactly where it was. It turns out it’s in Breezewood, PA, and i have never been there, which only serves to highlight the OP’s point. 

every night after 10pm my feelings start crawling out, starved, as i beat them with a moderately large stick vigorously hissing “stay back” until i inevitably fall asleep