Blood Money

"focaccia, serves 4" yes all 4 me

"tiramisu, serves 2" yes all 2 myself

“Pie, serves 8” yes I 8 it all

I've been melting dogs down to make this thing called dog metal

if you have to rely on specific scripts or turns of phrase to socialise that's totally fine, but you must NOT reveal them to your friends while slightly drunk. it's like showing how the magic trick works, you can't do it in front of them afterwards

they dont tell you this but you carry your upset younger self in you like a parasitic twin

this heatwave might turn me evil for good

actually, that sex scene is load-bearing

wound dressings and bandages are lingerie for the enlightened pervert

Kid with a bluey backpack on the flight to Sydney this must be his mecca

much like a beautiful horse i like salt and roaming freely

The older I get, the more I realize being in a hurry is a terrible way to live your life.