you need to be 737 maxxing. you need to have a few screws loose. you need to be dramatically throwing open doors to feel the fresh air outside. you need to be keeping yourself grounded. you need to be lighting yourself on fire occasionally just to feel something.
I went to the gym and ended up watching tennis for an hour.
I blame ESPN for my eventual demise.
A British person will be slightly insulted by someone, not say anything, nurture a lingering resentment, patiently bide their time, and eventually, in an unrelated conversation with the person years later, will remark, “that’s typical of you.” Usually across a dining table.
tall people make me nervous. what the hell are you doing up there? stop eating the leaves off that tree
5 Stages of Girl Scout Cookie Season:
1. Denial
2. Anger
3. Bargaining
4. Depression
5. 436 boxes of Thin Mints
It’s so sad when you have to tell the person you love that you’ve already seen the post they’re showing you
every time a random fucking website asks if it can send me notifications i imagine a guy i’ve never seen before in my life running out of a building i just walked by and chasing me down the street demanding to know my full name and email address
Friend is a masseuse. Her speakers broke so she told client she can’t play any music, jokingly offered to sing for him instead. He said, “Just whale song or something will be fine”. Omg. She made whale noises for a full 15 minutes before he got up and complained to her manager
I’m only here while I wait for that Nigerian prince to follow through on his end of the bargain.
Boss: are you sticking to the schedule
Death: yeah of course
Boss: so you’re not killing anyone prematurely to gain access to their earthly wares
Death: *pauses brand new PS5* what are you getting at Roy
Not to brag but I can chop an onion without crying
And I can cry without chopping an onion
captcha starting to give us tasks like we’re in a saw movie or something.
Communing with the fog in the woods, anyone need anything?
“please retain for your records” – bold of you to assume that I, a person who still has to dig boxes out of the trashcan bc i forgot to read the recipe, have “records.”
The Princess and the Pea
except it’s a rogue hair on the inside of my shirt driving me crazy all day