the publicist of the woman gassing the atmosphere with her private jets literally being named Tree Pain has convinced me that we live in a simulation created by a really uncreative person
CASHIER SAID THAT WILL BE 17.46
I SAID OK
RESPONDING WITH ZERO HESITATION OR MERCY I PAID THE AGREED UPON PRICE AND TOOK THE ITEM THAT WAS RIGHTFULLY MINE
It's hilarious that there's a whole fanbase that wants this boy to be some tortured art and literature intellectual but he's really just a NYC wigga dude bro who loves bad bitches and coke.