very tired

i hate it when people mistake "etymology" with "entomology." like, i know where they coming from but it still bugs me

his wife has filled THEIR house with ANTIQUES. to AVOID DAMAGING HER VALUABLES i fuck him on the floor

#feminist retelling

t shirt that just says WHATEVER YOU’RE READING INTO MY FACIAL EXPRESSIONS AND BODY LANGUAGE YOU’RE MISINTERPRETING

Not now, kitten, m- da- m- your parental figure is in the middle of a gender crisis

dude your ingroup signifier just fucking bit me

well at least you didnt get bitten by outgroup. getting bitten by outgroup might make you hurt and bleed the exact same amount as getting bitten by ingroup but it would be ontologically worse for some reason

Yall know when they film pornos the erections arent real right. Its just someone below a stage moving it on a wire like the muppets

just ask that person out, the worst thing they can say is an esoteric incantation that topologically inverts your body

My name was Mitya Ivanovich of Ryazan. I was nine winters old when I died. In 1353 winter came early. The boyars took our grain, the wolves took our goats, and hunger took our minds. One night, I was sent to fetch water from the well. I leaned too far and saw my reflection tremble. Then the rope snapped. The well was bottomless, or so they said. They found my boots days later, frozen solid and standing upright like a man still waiting for spring. If you read this far, it’s too late to pretend you didn’t. You have until the next cockcrow to send this message to 10 villagers or one tax collector. A boyar’s son once received this message carved on birch bark. He laughed, said peasants have no ghosts, and burned it in his hearth. That night, his estate flooded with boiling kvass. A widow in Novgorod copied this tale and sent it to 12 others. The next morning, her cow gave birth to triplets. All healthy. She named them Mitya, Mitya, and Mitya. I still look over their bloodline. Send this to 10 people if you don't want to end up like the boyar's son. Your time starts now