Toast? Yes please

my uncle (named big michael, you will soon find out why) who is 6’9 (Now You Understand) just arrived to sleep over at our place, i was not informed, there are no lights on in the hall, he has a key, and it is 34 minutes past midnight. So that is all to say, I do think with some certainty, that I am now, officially, the first human being who has come this close to seeing the boogie man in real life, and survived. He unfolded himself through that door frame like a poorly made origami crane from hell.

man I hate when I'm in a situation where I have a lot of small rocks or balls about to crush me and the only way for me to get out of the situation is for someone to match three or more objects on a grid. and then they don't match the objects on the grid! like bitchh just match the objects godddd

love the word fruitless. arguing with you is like if there was no apples involved whatsoever

went to the beach ten minutes after an actual thunderstorm and got so cold i started coming up with a “fish” cover of creep by Radiohead which I was singing out loud over and over again. imagine me waist deep in the waves no feeling in my legs getting over a cold voice singing “i wish i was urchin. you’re so fucking urchin”