We have reached the "inexplicably vaguely unwell all day but suddenly mysteriously instantly healed by consuming a whole jar of olives, a whole package of feta (and drinking the brine from both) and cold chiken slices at 6:30 pm" time of the year.
Im enjoying the longevity of tumblrs recontextualization style of humor. a seemingly innocuous post followed by like "posts that a gnome would make" or like "are you a phone"
me: *trying to take my socks off but they keep getting stuck on my heel* oh fuck. goddamnit.
the extractor fan in a bathroom in Norway that has an intrinsic link to my spirit: *momentarily whirs louder*
Mr Smirke, Although your list is clearly the best ever written with no contest, I would like to replace the names as to prevent feeding the respective entity at their mention. These are my suggested replacements
The Stuff (Buried)
The Grody (Corruption)
The Bedtime (Dark)
The Hot (Desolation)
The Sleepy (End)
The Peeper (Eye)
The Yummers (flesh)
The Zoomies (Hunt)
The Big Sad (Lonely)
The Angy (Slaughter)
The Huh (Spiral)
The Weirdo (Stranger)
The Big (Vast)
The Spooder (Web)
I’d love to hear you thoughts on this.
-A colleague
I don't have a response to this but I need everyone to see it
i didn't say it was good, i said it has bewitched me body and soul
from “baths”, 1987.
So I had a funny dream the other night.
It involved a very gay witch.
me, at 2 pm, when the stores are open: you don't have any little treats in the house. if you want a little treat later, you have to go to the store and buy one now.
me: *does not go to the store*
me, at 9 pm, when the stores are closed: tweat? 🥺 no tweats for me? 🥺🥺 cries 🥺 cries for one thousand years 🥺🥺🥺