i love getting cheeseburgers from this liquor drive thru/gas station/auto repair shop/restaurant that keeps them in a rotating pretzel warmer. call that a multi-hyphenate hamburger
every time a friend says “omg my matcha is so good today! you gotta try it!” i try it and what does it taste like? grass. lawn clippings. every single time.
idk why but i don’t consider birds to be wildlife. like if you tell me there is going to be wildlife at the function and it’s only birds? im gonna be a little pissed
and listen, do i wear the bucee’s tshirt my mom got me? do i have stickers of his stupid face on my water bottles? that’s between me and whatever god is listening. bucee may have lost the war for my soul but he did win a couple battles
every time i see signs for that fuckass beaver i think, “this time will be different” and then i am deeply disappointed every single time. such a mid capitalistic hellhole
every time i see signs for that fuckass beaver i think, “this time will be different” and then i am deeply disappointed every single time. such a mid capitalistic hellhole
when i ingest a certain fungi i really have to focus on what people are saying to me because their eyes nose and mouth are doing the hotel hallway thing on their face which is a lot to take in