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*Dad peaks into tree-house* You kids alright up here? *Empty* Here, I brought lemonades. *Sets tray next to 6 other trays, ants everywhere.*
Surrender to the tides and traffic, never surrender to animals and adults.
Remember when you thought twitter was this ridiculous toy for kids who wanted to talk about celebrities. Look at this ugly shit now.
Staring down until it connected above him, Joe broke every rule of being and cascaded into himself until behavior became the comedy of death
I'm fucking serious, don't touch me with those sausage links.
In twenty years the subtweet will be the new first base, and shame will stalk the streets like the new plague.
Theres something dehumanizing about twitter that makes it really exciting. These tiny people, wrapped up, small neat sentences. Pointillism.
Went to boil water, turned on the wrong burner. It took me six weeks to make one thing of macaroni.
"You didn't suffer your absence in the 18th century and you won't suffer your absence in the 22nd." Sam Harris
If you can't fart with your dad, you can't fart with anyone.
Humans born today will look upon Radiohead, fossil fuels and Christianity like we look upon the Rolling Stones, wood and witchcraft. I hope.
Trim the ginch and snatch the box, there's beavers about.
"The turkey smells delicious, honey." *Puts on slacks, sport coat, cologne. Opens front door, falls into oblivion with perfect posture*
No animal species benefits from the invention of the internet as much as the house cat.
It doesn't matter what happens in your life as long as you remember you're in a comedy, not a tragedy.
Pull out some American Paper Currency and smell it deeply. Imagine that as a cologne.
The laundromat is an oddly romantic place.
I'd be afraid to watch a video recording of myself thinking. I keep catching myself just staring with a pained expression at my forearm.
Here's tweet #1666. The number of the guy who lives in the floor above the Beast. His name's Chad and he's alright.