death be not proud

why do people need to be domesticated animals for petplay,. u r my lion i bought you illegallu and you are trying to kill me. go

one thing about me is i’m gonna go lay down

It's always fun when an author claims their work contains no politics, because either they're blatantly lying, or they genuinely think they're telling the truth and you get a lot of insight into what assertions about human nature they regard as so obviously and self-evidently true as to lie outside the political sphere.

i would like to officially thank sesame for its seeds, its oil, and of course its street

I like to fuck around and waste time for at least ~6-10 hours per day, and let me tell you, that really puts some pressure on your schedule. you have no idea how busy I am

ask not for whom poob has it

poob has it for thee

if i was a soccer player i'd simply kick that ball in the goal instead of wasting everyone's time

no i dont think women starving themselves and reconstructing their entire faces with makeup and plastic surgery is feminism and female empowerment

lesbian scifi is so easy. here’s a woman in cargo pants and a tank top on a spaceship. are you with me

maybe it’s not even cargo pants. maybe it’s coveralls rolled to + tied around the waist. maybe she even has fuckoff boots

the problem with kids these days is that they dont watch linkin park anime amvs

did anyone else see that seal that just ended up on the street in connecticut

one time I went over to a friend's house and their housemate was making paper in the living room, and we saw this big tub full of water they were using to dissolve old scrap paper into a slurry, and everyone was immediately like "oh, you need scrap paper?" and started turning out their jacket pockets and producing expired coupons and bus tickets and crumpled receipts and old shopping lists and whatever else they'd been carrying round with them for no good reason, and passing it all to the paper-making housemate to make sure it was suitable before it got torn up and dropped into the tub, while people took turns stirring the slurry with a big wooden stick. it was strangely ritualistic, like presenting an offering to some kind of temple elder for inspection before placing it in a watery shrine to be devoured and reformed. pulp for the pulp god.