every local post-punk band has these things: - the two lads who shot up Columbine - a vocalist i wouldn't leave my drink with - a bassist who desperately wants this to be a nu metal band - the most normal drummer alive

and is there a Mrs Chips?

"every workplace needs a bad bitch with autism," i cry into the mirror every morning

god gives her most painfully millennial friendship groups to her most insufferable zillennial eldest daughters

i don't know how i fucked up but my algorithm has switched from furry porn to neoliberalism. i never thought i'd miss being jumpscared by a wolfman's gaping asshole

don corleone in the streets, horse head in the sheets