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I took my Vicodin before going to the supermarket. In other words, I didn't go to the supermarket yet.
A clown based culture wherein your social station is determined largely in part on your ability to juggle
sext: I grow a beard. You tell me you like my beard. I immediately shave off my beard. A new pope is elected. I regrow my beard.
"What just happened? Who am I?"
(Searches pockets for ID, finds dark chocolate peanut butter cup.)
"That's okay then."
--me in "Memento"
Don't you DARE honk at me, Macintosh Desktop Computer.
Don't you DARE.
Can we just stop having sports? Just until I die. You guys can do whatever afterwards.
Lucid dreaming is a fascinating area of study. Methods & goals differ but oneironauts agree if you smell sex & candy this surely is a dream.
As an adult, am I still supposed to eat dirt every now and again? Asking for a friend.
8:36pm I'm grateful for a reconnected Internet, warm water, a mug of cocoa, for Netflix & coffee, for middle acts of American life. Celery.
Hokum if you got 'em
Watching "Alfred Hitchcock Presents." great seeing the types of schemes people could get away with before the advent of security cameras.
Sometimes I open my mouth to burble pleasantries to a dumb customer and an unstoppable gush of pitch black spider-blood sprays out #LinkedIn
Oh, Portland General Electric. Your all-caps, bold notices scream ACT NOW TO AVOID SHUT-OFF but your saucy red envelopes suggest... amour.
Accidentally opened the Facebook app and was assaulted with well-meaning mediocrity.
You are officially the biggest freakin' lunatic in the world. Put that on your twitter. --my kid brother