Nearly Blonde

i have to tell you something that will lower your entire opinion of me

when i was 12 i made flyers for my fanfiction and handed them out a train station

im blown away by the sheer confidence this act required. if anything my opinion has been raised. the poise. the fearlessness. the laughing in the face of death. i’m speechless

we need to stop doing litterary analysis....... like maybe kafka just litteraly turned into an insect who are we to tell him that he didnt

mcdonalds is singlehandedly responsible for the gender binary and my torrid relationship with my parents. fucking “girl toy or boy toy?” how the fuck were neopets ever boy toys. every time i had to beg my parents to say boy toy so i could get a pokemon instead of like a greasy beaded bracelet, the seeds of dissent were sown that much deeper

i found out yesterday while my grandpa was helping me move that he consistently carries four knives on him at all times. it’s as natural as carrying around his phone and wallet for him. he says if anyone ever attacks him and takes his first knife, they’re in for a surprise. if they take his second knife? another surprise. his third knife? buddy, you’re in for a treat: another knife

Murder me in an overgrown greenhouse of an old estate during a thunderstorm or don’t waste my fucking time.

Hozier ghost wrote this

the uncanny valley between “this academic article doesn’t make sense because i’m an idiot” and “this academic article doesn’t make sense because the author is an idiot”

bastard keeps sprinting to get ahead of me then walks really slow so i accidentally kick him and then meows all pathetically like i attacked him

I’m sorry, does your cat’s name tag say “hello my name is bastard”

“What if raccoons figured out the secret to starting fires?” is the scariest hypothetical question my dad has ever posed

that’s the distinction between goblins and raccoons

why do people always ask me if I’m okay when I’m lying on the floor. yes I’m okay. I’m living my best life. can’t a girl just lie on the floor and stare blankly at the ceiling listening to 1970s Swedish pop sensation ABBA sing Waterloo. I’m having me time