Shortwave eroticism.

Gainax AF.

Take her to paladinner and a movie?

(Sorry.)

Dude, yesterday I heard a radio ad promoting “vintage alternative” music and it was fucking “Mr. Brightside” by The Killers.

Vintage.

I wanted to throw my geriatric elder Millennial ass through my windshield.

Ahhhhhh…look at all the blonely bleople…

Ugh, don’t get me started on roommates.

Like, once, they got all paranoid about some supernatural nonsense and poured all this salt on the hallway floor, like in a big stupid circle. Right outside of my door.

Total pain in the ass. Like, I refuse to go out there until they clean that shit up. I physically won’t. I don’t care how long it takes or how hungry I get.

Though I can’t remember the last time I felt hunger…hmmm…

Honestly, it’s been so long I’m not sure I can even differentiate anymore.

Hank Hill voice:

“Just look at it, Bobby. It’s got-dang beautiful, I tell ya h’wat.”

This isn’t even my final formal.

I never tasted a more delicious pizza than the personal pan pepperoni I earned from absolutely crushing the Book-It program. That big holographic button, covered in achievement stars. The pizza. Pure bliss.

Why they changed it, I can’t say…

GOOD.

For the people who are still alive!