ain't no grave

Last week I joked that my very cerebral, retired-police-chief-grandpa is basically Holt from Brooklyn 99 and then today someone said, “damn, we’re out of decaf” and he just deadpans “well there’s no need to get hysterical.”

Yesterday he said “if you need to insult the same person twice you’ve already failed in your goal to devastate them”

My Yaya was trying to remember the name of a guy who stole money from her in high school today and my grandpa instantly pipes up “his name was Bernie Ryan and he was a scoundrel”

STOOOOOP

To All the Mutuals I Still Follow Even Though We Only Had That One Hyperfixation in Common Like Five Years Ago

oh to be a statue of a goddess covered in moss, somewhere in the garden of the enchanted ruins the castle left behind, for birds to take rest on my shoulders and for animals to sleep in front of my feet, for no ordinary humans to be reached

any cat born after 4400 BC can’t hunt all they know is roll on ground, snuggle, lick they paws, be pet, eat dry food and lie

while you were hitting the juul, going to college, having casual sex, driving your car, and eating takeout food, i died horribly under mysterious circumstances in a national park. and my body was never found again