her: what’s your last name?
me: it’s French
her: that’s nice dear, but what is it?
me: no my last name is literally just French.
her: oh how fun, do you speak French?
me: idk do you speak Johnson, Barbara?
boss: your coworker is concerned you don’t like them
me: oh, I don’t.
boss:
me: anything else?
my computer: consider changing your password
me: consider fighting me in the streets
my first real experience with gang violence was the buttercream gang.
I used to joke that this was a simulation until I became convinced the dude at the sketchy gas station near my house is an NPC. He says 3 total sentences and he’s there no matter what time of day I show up. I am no longer joking.
I just saw a sign that said “if you can plan for a wedding, you can plan for a natural disaster” and in my mind those two things are the same things
the cool thing about having longer hair is using it to floss your teeth in a pinch
It finally happened. A real human asked me to write an obit that stated “he died doing what he loved” and it took everything in me to keep my shit together about that.
can’t stop thinking about pink camo as a concept. the lore of where you’d need pink camo to survive the wilderness under cover. I want to go to there.
hot girls be like I know a place and it’s this
flash mobs for serving divorce papers
me: okay, thank you!
boss: thank you more!
me, whispering: we can’t do this, you have a family.
boss: what
me: what
two people had sex in the 80s and now I gotta pay bills, hydrate, and hate myself???
I once saw a lady called Rachel Smith-Smith on Facebook and I asked her why she didn’t just leave it and save herself the trouble at the DMV and she blocked me
you idiots wanna bring back the 90s but I haven’t seen a single zigzag part in anybody’s hair