“abbey” “willis”

mandala effect? i thought he liked me

not today satan! no, not tomorrow either. maybe sometime next week. i told you i’ve been busy lately. i know we haven’t hung out in a while it’s just things have been crazy at work,

any time i get a weird pain in my head i think “well this is it. i’m having a stroke. someone please tell my family i only kind of like them”

has anyone thought to put a labubu on their baggu or is that just too fucking insane

the opposite of the Spice Girls would be the Herb Boys

a shovel to the back of the head would fix me

people who live in Funky Town are called Funkers

cracking open a warm one with the boys (making hot chocolate)

sally sells sea shells by the sea shore? what is she, stupid? those things are everywhere down there

me: soooo does this thing recline?
executioner: [turns up the voltage]

whenever i see something that i don’t relate to online i just yell NOT FOR ME and keep it scrolling

i hear the sweet, sad coo of the mourning dove and i think “i could fix him”

if i ever break my sobriety from alcohol i’ll start by having a sip of communion wine. if i’m gonna relapse i wanna do it with jesus by my side

match my freak? won’t someone match my normal for once i need to go grocery shopping

in the mood for a baked good that will change my life

“to go or to stay?” to forget…

fighting with my toddler over the last juice box. there’s literally a six pack of bud light in the fridge so i don’t know what his fucking problem is

damnnnn kinda wish i was everything someone was looking for rn

i should be able to receive a notification every time i walk by someone and they think i’m cute

coughing into a bag then tying it up and throwing it away

oh him? that’s my bro Vibeless Dave. yeah i don’t really know what his deal is

doing a land acknowledgment before i fall to my knees and wail in agony on the floor

pigeons are doves by the way… something i think a lot of us tend to forget. we forget the street dove was once a personal and loyal media correspondent. we release doves at weddings and think it’s beautiful, but we do not extend the same recognition of grace to the wandering common pigeon

calling yourself a night owl is kinda redundant. it’s like calling yourself a day pigeon

i’m doing a lot of “pecular” and “peculeler” and one time i even said “perculiar”

peculiar is another one. my tongue refuses to cooperate, it’s like trying to charm a dead snake getting that word out of my mouth

i feel like we as a society fell off when people stopped intentionally mismatching their socks. now there’s just all these same-sock losers walking around, no whimsy no joy. conforming

does anyone know if i’m gonna be ok? and if so when? and if not how come?

when i was a kid i thought the song Amazing Grace was about a woman named Grace who was just like, really awesome and helpful

“that man’s a clown” yes and like the never-ending scarf that he pulls out of his mouth, i wish to be an important part of his routine and covered in his spit