hey ermo

everybody say thank you, fanfiction

Ì dont even need to name who this is, all of u know.

oh, you meant they literally did, ok

IN THE MOOD FOR LOVE (2000) dir. Wong Kar-wai.

Fucking slain in my tracks by this postcard on my friend’s dresser

My husband plays the trumpet, which is a sort of loud pretzel originally developed to blow down the walls of fucking Jericho and, later, to let Civil War soldiers know it was time to kill each other in a river while you chilled eating pigeon in your officer’s tent twenty miles away, yet somehow, in modern times, it has become socially acceptable to toot the bad cone inside your house before 10:00 a.m. because it’s “your job” and your wife should “get up”. What a world! If one was feeling uncharitable, one might describe the trumpet as a machine where you put in compressed air and divorce comes out, but despite this— despite operating a piece of biblical demolition equipment inside the home every bright, cold morning of his wife’s one and only life— the trumpet is not the most annoying thing about my husband.

cool thanks 👍 looking forward to it

maskerade (1995)