Previously space-pineapples

“These are my red flags for women:

If she stabs me more than twice.

If she has a concerning amount of ex-husbands who died on their honeymoon, like... [a brief pause for thought] Like four or more.

If Gozer the Gozerian asks me to choose the form of the destructor and then one of my childhood crushes walks through New York City at 300 feet tall, uh, and steps on a church... [takes a breath and pauses for a second] I mean, it’s not the height! It’s not the height. I like a climb. But, like. [another breath] She stepped on a church. Or any building, really, ‘cause. [deep breath followed by a brief pause] Legally they’re not supposed to be able to ask you about that on like your homeowner’s association application, but- but they’ll ask. They’ll look it up.

Like imagine crying on the couch and you hear his thunderous, big body SUV built ass footsteps approach you.

"Baby, what's wrong," he says tenderly as he rubs your shoulder.

You look up to explain how bad your day was with tears in your eyes and you fucking see this: