sentient blob of honey

band on the run

I am lowkey unfit for human interaction

Today I encountered an especially pathetic Italian greyhound. His owner told me that a gust of wind once blew him into a lake.

i forgot a crucial part of pet ownership: bothering that animal a little

is anyone else constantly afraid they’ll be “caught” doing stuff they’re obviously allowed or even supposed to do

uh oh 😖 I’m playing video games 😰 on my computer 🫢 that I own 😨 if anyone sees this I’m going to have to fake my own death

life would be sooo good without my curse

The problem w writing fiction is that you'll be like tee-hee I'm going to write a story about a fucked up little scenario that's got nothing to do with anything in real life, just some pure messed up nonsense, and then you finish it and take a step back and go aw rats I made a metaphor again

I am so glad that the word blorbos exists now. It’s so much more evocative and accurate than “comfort character”. Like, they’re different things. He doesn’t bring me comfort, he makes my hands itchy and I want to polish him with pledge. I want to put him in a Pringle’s tube and shake him. I want to brush his hair and put little shoes on him like a Bratz doll. That’s a blorbo.

*covered in soot, hair standing on end, smoking slightly* my pet wire bit me

thanks 👍 it did not help