Had an amazing night tonight reconnecting with some old friends, but I keep kicking myself because I mispronounced the word perpetuity. Absolutely no one called me on it, but it's gonna bug me for years.
Hey, we're all out here with full-time jobs and depression. You can't make a quirky show about funny queer pirates or funny queer angels and then finish it off gut-wrenchingly sad. I can't get to sleep to work tomorrow feeling like this.
I'm officially converting from putting butter on my grilled cheese to using mayo. It cooks so much better, tastes exactly the same, and I never have to rely on softened butter being around.
And now my throat is so raw I can’t talk. Because I’m sick, not because I’ve been enthusiastically face fucked. Not while I’m sick, that would be irresponsible.
Last night I got hyper-fixated on this brilliantly constructed Tiktok by @avitalash.
I watched hundreds of duets and was fascinated by people's emotional journeys, how many people didn't get the joke, and genuinely didn't know how to pronounce macabre.
tiktok.com/@avitalash/video/…
Also, if you're the kind of person who gets angry because a joke "lied" to you, do you think that knock-knock jokes are historical retellings of times when people came calling to your friends' houses?