in retrospect my father was kind of iconic for how he handled it when he called someone a twat in front of little kid me and i asked what that word meant. the answer he came up with was, and i’ll always remember this, “no one knows what it means. it’s a mystery”

strange perpetually single women in their late 20s with vivid dreams of a beautiful future and the heartbeat of a scared mouse how are we doing

people go on and on about loving the idea of devotion to the point of consumption and how love will swallow you whole and turn you into something that is equally starved and also wholly satisfied. but when I, charles marc herve perceval leclerc,

absolutely hate it when I wake up tired like what the fuck did I lie unconscious for

Trying to sleep during a heatwave is a great reminder that all oil executives need to die painful painful deaths