Mono Caps

we need to bring back the phrase "what business is it of yours" in a big way i'm serious

i know you can just say "none of your business" but phrasing it as a question with a jarringly formal tone is the ideal way to shoot an overfamiliar unwelcome overture dead in its tracks and force the person making it to confront the boundaries they're taking for granted + it would really piss people off which is funny

&also it allows you to experience the joy of talking like an autistic vampire, which i highly recommend

you ever get so into the whole "it would have been good if it was good" thing that it gets kind of embarrassing. it would have been good if it was good but it's Not and in fact it's maybe worse than anything else but unfortunately. it still could have been good. if it was go

developing the hots for ryan gosling because of project hail mary is so fucking embarrassing I swear to god. that is a conventionally attractive man. a noted hollywood heartthrob. he's even blond, are you kidding me? did he win people magazine's sexiest man alive? I don't know. I'm not going to check but it wouldn't surprise me at this point. it's such a mainstream taste. such a clichéd celebrity crush. like oh I fancy ryan gosling and my favourite drink is coca-cola and my favourite snack is ready salted crisps. jesus christ. 'b-b-but i only like him when he's in a science pun tshirt and playing a dorky-awkward loner type!' doesn't matter. he's still ryan 'ken from barbie' gosling. it's so trite. I feel like the weird nerd girl in a teen coming-of-age romcom falling for the super popular jock. don't I know that I have a reputation to uphold here? cringe.

once my friend made a drink he called turpentine that tasted like every worst college night out rolled into one and felt like getting whacked in the head with a hammer, and I woke up in my own apartment with my phone wallet keys clothes and absolutely zero memory of the night before, and when I checked my watch I'd walked over 60k steps.

60k steps in the middle of the night in heels for reasons entirely unknown to me. what was I doing. where did I go. where did I come from. cotton eye joe. or whatever.

someone fired a bullet through our bathroom wall the other day when we were gone, which is scary (but probably accidental), but the weirdest part is that we can’t actually find the place where it entered from outside... the wall inside is fucked up and you can see the hole where it came through, but there is no corresponding entrance hole on the exterior of the house. somehow the outer paneling was undamaged.

This is the most American post I have ever seen

“someone fired a bullet through my asbestos from a car chase” yeah fair