𝕋𝕀𝕄 🇨🇦

the fifa peace prize used to mean something

Yeah I fucking believe it

glow sticks used to mean partying, but now in the apocalypse they just help us see our rat stew

He will literally start a war in order to declare and stay in power.

there’s something to be said for spending a quiet night alone with gummies, a tub of port wine cheese spread, and waffle pretzels

especially after the recent “burrito butt incident”

A whole ‘lotta prairie dogging going on.

Omg! Rubbing my sack, nosy!

Snaps and Crackle, huh Pops?

Ok. No room on the floating door!

We've been saying the same old insults for tens of thousands of years. You'd think by now we'd have evolved.

Nope.

Still just two monkeys flinging the same old shit. Now we argue over who shits bigger.

My father’s lifelong ambition was to die before my mother so he wouldn’t have to do the laundry.

He succeeded.

—That man had focus.

Time for a reality check.

We’re all just rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic.

They say the average man thinks about sex every seven seconds.

That's a lie. It's more like every three seconds, and the other four are just trying to figure out how to steer the conversation back to it.

Crocs are what feet wear when the soul has given up.

You put on a pair, you're basically telling the world, "I'm not going anywhere important, and if I do, I'm prepared to hose myself off afterwards."

Please respect my privacy while I hit a curb.

This storm was such a bitch I had to listen to AM radio on a dusty old clock radio. This glass of Tab sure hit the spot, though. Have you guys heard of Debby Boone?

pentatonic means that if you scream all your pent up rage into a pillow five times within one sitting it will turn into a tonic i completely understand if you need to mute me now

Sometimes people aren't who you think they are. And sometimes, people are exactly who you wish they weren't.

my dad got me a sweatshirt that says “first of all, i’m a delight,” so i’m getting him a t-shirt that says “i wasn’t yelling. i was parenting.”

I am already there and I am not old ...
Oh boy.

That faint smell in the kitchen? Not real. The 20-minute argument about whether it's the garbage or the drain?

—That's marriage.

Historically, February is my worst month and she’s not letting me down this year. March can’t come soon enough

I’d just call it my personal garburator.

Just commissioned a portrait of myself that will be called, “Festering Garbage in Repose.”

Is there any day that people give less of a shit about than Thursday?

I’m not saying I’m depressed, but I’m listening to the Smiths as a pick me up.

i would show you my ass for thirsty thursday but i can’t have all of you falling in love with me