I walked into one of our I.V. supermarkets yesterday. Wait, no. Supermarket doesn’t seem like the right term…
“A liquor store that sells bread and condoms.”
How’s that?
At any rate, there I encountered one of the most wretched human beings I’ve set eyes on in my college career.
She looked like she hadn’t slept in three weeks and as I entered, she muttered to the cashier, “Do you sell earplugs?”
Thursday’s forecast: No earplugs, but sympathy from everyone who’s ever had a snoring roommate.
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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”
