Tiger in my ❤

one time i told a group of lesbian and bi women that i have never watched wicked and they were shocked, gagged, gooped, “but you’re queer. you like pussy. how have you not seen wicked?” yeah. well. i like pussy, not musicals?

“are you going to the lucy dacus concert?” no. i listen to gucci mane.

bungus

welcome to ‘no note bungus’. reblog and you will feel a sense of accomplishment and goodwill wash over you

my least favorite literary smut turn of phrase is when a guy is like “im gonna ruin this pussy” “im gonna wreck this pussy for anyone else” like stop.. thats not yours…!

In the novelizations of the original two Resident Evil games, which came out before the series left Raccoon City or Umbrella corp, the author's own justification for all this was that the puzzles were commissioned by the same paranoid rich CEO who gave bored company engineers and scientists limitless budget and creative control to protect his evil secrets as obtusely as possible. So basically a delusional billionaire gathered a bunch of amoral computer nerds and told them "while you're farming artisinal lizard demons for the army, I need you to make it as confusing and difficult as you possibly can for anyone to get in and out of my office alive" and I guess their autism lit up like a blazing star with a free ticket to design a real world lucasarts adventure game. This is implied later in the book to be exactly the reason why none of them made it out alive.

dino saurs were not scary monsters they were mamas with eggs and when they drank water they were like fuckk yessss waterrrr