It's a compliment, Bozo

every time I fumble w my phone’s charger cable I think about emailing steven moffat a pipe bomb

pro tip “he freed his erection” is the most useful phrase in any smut writer’s arsenal because it means never having to figure out a dude’s pants situation. how did he do it? were there zippers? buttons? some kind of bizarre lacing situation? maybe he cut off his pants with scissors. maybe it was a wizard. maybe it busted out like the hulk busts out of his shirts. no one knows. no one cares. his dick is out now and that is all that matters. thank you helpful dick wizard.

happy ten year anniversary to the dick wizard

I met Steve at Comic Con a couple years ago. I told him, “thank you for being there for me as a kid when it felt like no one else was. He responded “no, thank you for all your help; without you, I’d still be trying to figure out what Blue wanted for her snack!” and I had to try very hard not to cry, he was so nice.

you have to outlive donald trump

imagine how funny the internet will be on the day he dies.

i actually think that ticketmaster and event venues deserve to be shot in the back of their heads so maybe they'll bring down these fucking ticket prices. mofo tf u mean service fee? tf u mean facility charge? tf u mean order processing fee? tf u mean $600 for nosebleed seats? go fuck your fucking selves.

my teeth were perfectly designed to tear abd rend the soft white flesh of the gentle beast known as the mozzarella

sometimes instead of “why can’t they just be friends” i think it should be “why can’t they also be friends” because sometimes shipping feels much too much like forcing two pretty characters to kiss and be intimate without actually being interested in the dynamic the two people have. what about hanging out together. what about why they like being in each others company. what do they argue about. how do they patch things up. what do they laugh about.

I didn’t know about New Jersey’s law so imagine my shock when a pump jockey sprinted at my car and kicked my door shut when I tried to get out to get gas. I rolled down my window and asked him “Is there a law against pumping your own gas or something?” And he looked at me like I’M nuts and just said “…yes?”

okay but imagine this in the reverse. when i left new jersey as a driver for the first time and sat in my car for about ten minutes wondering where the attendant was until a nice man tapped on my window and just said the words “New Jersey?” and when I nodded he told me to get out of the car so he could teach me how to pump gas (and nicely didn’t laugh at me when I shot gas out of the nozzle across the side of my car).

me and the boys (all from new jersey) went on a road trip out of state and had to get gas and it ended up being sort of a Group Puzzle for the gang as we huddled around the gas pump and nozzle and tank and whatnot. just picture five people standing around the gas tank opening like its part of an escape room. it was very silly.

I remember the first time I took a road trip outside of NJ for longer than just a few hours I kept making my friend pump the gas cause my mom instilled such a fear of it into me. I'm now regularly taking 12+ hour road trips each way and barely thinking about it.

“Kill them with kindness.” Of course. Just make sure you do kill them.