You guys are Hella Stupid you guys are Hella Lame
I would lay money that this is what my SoCal family hears when they talk to me.
- Newest coworker: Hey watch this
- Newest coworker: (puts on two nametag lanyards)
- Newest coworker: (grins really big)
- Newest coworker: I'M 2 CHAINZ
I’ve been laid up at home all day with a pretty gnarly sprained ankle and I’m genuinely disappointed that there’s no one around at whom I can shout MY LEG
I couldn’t be less scared of Satan, but that last scene with Father Dyer made me cry.
I wanna love you, but I better not touch
I wanna eat you, but my senses tell me to stop
I wanna kiss you, but I want it too much
I wanna taste you, but your proteins are venomous poisssoaeiaieiaoionnnnnn
How did my trans* cousin turn into an MRA?!
I suppose the “huehuehue I have become my oppressor” thing holds SOME merit…but man, you’re still a gay white dude. They’re not 100% on your side.
Today my fish Chad was acting kind of sick. As time wore on, her “sister” Ru came and sat by her, abandoning her bubble nest in process to build a new one right over Chad. Last I looked, Chad was still floating there looking iffy, and Ru swam out from beside her to reassure me.
And in the meantime, Latrice took over Ru’s nest and her favorite hanging spot: right next to the heater.
For some reason, most of Thriller lends itself to this perfectly.
…actually, that’s more or less how we talk about everybody.