Oh media, you and your stories. Barry Bonds took steroids. Beer kills brain cells. Now let it get back to that weather thingy, where it things funnies types… is.
Wednesday’s forecast: The ‘human’s brain spontaneously combusts after a visit to tyme olde tavern.
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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”
