The ‘human is unsure of whether or not it should attend the vagina monologues this weekend. The ultimately undefined gender of the weatherorgan leaves the ‘human’s place in the monologues up in the air.
Friday’s forecast: The ‘human and the weatherorgan instead engage in a one-on-one oral monologue with each other. Weird.
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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”
