we need to bring back easter eggs on DVDs in case the Doctor ever needs to communicate with someone thirty years in the future to warn them about a race of terrifying sentient statues with the power to send people back in time.
Hallmark needs to start making Hallowe’en romances. She’s a gal from the big city seeking a new life in a small town. He’s a mysterious horseman cursed to throw his flaming head at passersby for eternity. And when these two meet one night, sparks, and heads, will fly.
you will never catch me dying in a cave or whilst climbing Mount Everest. you know who hasn’t suffered a gruesome death far in the caverns below ground? me, because I’m in my jim-jams, reading
to any witches I’ve offended: please don’t shrink me, it would be just awful if I had to go live in this large nineteenth-century doll’s house
The Count of Monte Cristo remains popular because it speaks to that universal human desire to flex on everyone you went to school with
today my sister said “I thought of you because I saw the stupidest tweet. just the dumbest freaking tweet” this went on for ten minutes
I’m not afraid to double-text, it makes me feel like a Victorian gentleman gently throwing stones at a window to draw a lady out of her chambers
me the second I feel that first breeze of autumn
kids today are like “so what did y’all do before the internet? did you just not know anything?” and the answer is yes. you would ask your aunt Marge a question, she’d give you the wrong answer and you’d carry that misinformation for twenty years.
he looks like the detective in a TV mystery series who’s been drinking a bit much since his wife died but always gets his man
the British: we demand to be taken seriously
also the British: I nipped down to Boggy Bottom and split a toad-in-the-hole with Mr Pumblychook
did I accomplish my goals for this year? no. but did I look after my physical and mental health? not at all. but did I maintain a proper diet and sleep schedule? listen,
what I love in every old-timey photo of women dressing up their cats is how peeved the cats look
my cats when I don’t feed them in a timely fashion
owing to recent events I will be moving to the big duck in Long Island
