I used to think there was nothing that could drive me to kill – not even Tickle Me Elmo. Then I discovered what it’s like to sit next to someone who cracks their knuckles throughout an entire lecture. Specifically, it’s like them saying to you, “I don’t mind the sound of bones cracking. Why don’t you bash in my skull? Use this Tickle Me Elmo.”
Friday’s forecast: Elmo loves arthritis!
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“dusty rusty crusty musty ass california hills”
“frowning in plaid (haunted radios, bird bones + anthropomorphized wind)”
“warming my hands on bridges i’ve burnt”
“songs that make me see god”
“My Playlist #236”
“classy wine moment and intellectual conversation”
“90s heroin chic model off duty”
“tweet tweet bird emoji map emoji”
“not my circus, not my monkeys”
“a grave is probably cheaper than an apartment”
“ATE THESE BITCHES LEFT NO CRUMBS / DID IT IN DESIGNER PUMPS”
