yeet

a woman is a type of undead creature. women are said to be drawn to graves dug in unconsecrated ground. they may be recognized by their empty stares and the black dirt underneath their fingernails.

though there are ways to ward off women, the wiser course of action is to have lesbian sex with them.

another one of those mona lisa real takes but. it is real. it had to be real. that was the point. that we’ve gotten to the point where nothing is sacred anymore.  people like miles are a parasite: they suck up all the soul in the world, all of the things that are true and good and add meaning to our lives. and what? what do they do with it? nothing. they don’t want to have it bc they appreciate it. they don’t care for it bc that’s what they do. they hoard. the paul mccartney guitar was real and he tossed it haphazardly to the sand. the rothko painting was real and it was hung upside down. also, hey, while we’re here, that was real, actual tennis icon serena williams who has given blood, sweat, and tears to get to the place where she is now and also an inspiration to people all over the world, she’s there. in his gym. working remotely as his personal instructor. because he can. everything and everyone are a commodity to over glorified assholes with all the money in the world. nothing and no one are truly valuable to over glorified assholes with all the money in the world. the real, actual mona lisa burning in this dipshit’s hands is a truth that’s difficult to swallow, but it’s a truth that has to be told. keep allowing assholes like him to take and do whatever they want. see what happens. 

This genuinely might make me cry. I already deeply appreciate King Arthur for making the best GF 1 for 1 flour. And having good recipes. But an article posted by them from someone with disabilities about how to do the thing even with disabilities? That’s just genuinely lovely. I know that my bad there is low, but it’s low for a reason and hopefully stuff like this can continue to raise that bar for disabled people like me.

had a dream last night where marbles were back en vogue and everyone carried their marbles around in cute little pouches that they'd clip onto their backpacks or purse straps or belt loops so they'd always have their marbles on them and your marbles were deeply personal objects that showcased your individual personality and people would get really passionate and proud of them and playing for keeps was a deeply serious and honor-bound affair and i played a game with an old man while waiting for a bus and he told me how he met his wife while playing in a for-keeps tournament and in a miracle shot he knocked out her most precious marble a brilliant sparkling green one with an inside like a geode and when he looked up he found she was crying at its loss and so right there on the spot he proposed to her so that she could divorce him and take it back in the divorce "but in the end," he told me, "she kept me and the marble" and i awoke teary and resentful to be ripped from a fleeting world that had found for itself such a small and beautiful peace