The SnK Struggle

You’re not depressed. You just need $250,000 in your bank account.

Reblog to materialize $250,000 in prev's bank account

apologies to anyone who ever thought i was cool and reached out to me only to discover i am just a weird little hermit who can't carry on a conversation to save my life

I can’t believe I tried to scroll past this without reblog gong

do not scroll past without reblogging

My man was really gonna let a fucking BEAR into his house for the views and the BEAR had to be the sensible one here

it’s ninety-nine degrees outside, four fuck-thousand percent humidity, and my husband was like, “i’m gonna go for a bike ride.” and i was like “why. no. why. don’t put us on the news like that. local fool collapses on unnecessary journey. don’t do it.” so he says he doesn’t want to “hide in the house” because the sun is shining. bruh. honeybruh. “the sun is shining” does not cover it. its hot outside. its motherfucking hot as fuck outside. our outdoor plants have been crying into their hands all week. whole cars are melting into the sewer. our fucking patio umbrella developed sentience to ask me for lemonade this morning

@robotmango, you need to work for the weather forecast - this was both hilarious and so vivid it made me stand up and get some iced tea.

this is a great idea, thank you. here goes. my audition tape for the weather channel. dearly beloved. we are gathered here today to have a fucking funeral for the outdoors. it had a good run, with all its creeks and clouds and shit. pretty great. now it’s ten-thirty at night but still ninety-two asshole-sweating degrees and humid as fuck. everything is hot and slimy, like being a “borrower” that got trapped inside a bottle of shampoo and then accidentally microwaved. you can see on my doppler radar that nothing is moving around out there because everything is probably dead. the only alive thing is the mosquito currently trying to drill a hole in my leg. no surprise that all the shitbag mosquitos are fine, since the thermostat of hell is always at the devil’s preferred temperature. this forecast has gotten away from me a little, but in conclusion fuck the sun

I think I’ve reblogged this before, but “the thermostat of hell is always at the devil’s preferred temperature” is fucking poetry

This is poetry.

World Heritage Post

This is what happens when you let Dr Seuss work at Jurassic Park!