i made an aesthetic generator now you can discover urself
not sure how to feel about this
THIS IS SOME FUCKING MOON MOON BULLSHIT
This is a picture of me with a small rubber duck suctioned to my cheek. When I was 15, and still figuring out the things that made me unique, I thought it would be cool to keep a small rubber duck attached to my face. It wasn’t, but I loved that duck. His name was Duck o’ The Irish, because he had a small shamrock printed on his chest, and I took him with me everywhere. One day I could not find Duck o’ The Irish, and I grieved for him for many months. My little sister began a collection of similar ducks however and she came into the possession of an identical, shamrock-clad duck. She offered it to me, but I graciously refused — for there was only one Duck o’ The Irish for me. I lived duckless for many years, until the other day when I found this duck in the attic. Initially I thought, perhaps, it was the original Duck o’ The Irish, but then I realized it could just as easily have been the one belonging to my dear sister. But, alas! Oho! I found earlier that my little sister’s Irish duckling was still parked in a mug in her room. So unless she had more ducks just like it than the one, we could stand to reason that the one I found in the attic was indeed my Duck o’ The Irish, reunited with me at last. Of course, this logic falls apart if in fact my little sister owned several ducks like this one, but there’s no way to confirm it. I suppose I will continue living as if this duck on my face is my beloved duck, and I won’t worry about the legitimacy of that viewpoint. There’s a comfort in not having the answer sometimes, and there’s always the option of asking God, who is all-knowing, if and when I get to heaven. And now you’ve read a very long, needlessly informative post about something which you stand to gain nothing by knowing about, and I hope this the low point of your mindless, nocturnal dash-scrolling, so that you may realize that you’re only wasting time you could be spending asleep. Go to sleep
"Awh, what a cute baby boy! What’s his name?"
Stop crawling on me
message from the ants: they say no and that you should buy more cilantro
tell the ants i dont have throwaway cash to buy cooking herbs and they can get their own
message from the ants: please we’re having mexican tonight
A moment of silence to all the kids who can’t wait to become a teenager because they think it’s fun
Two hours of silence for all the teenagers who can’t wait to become adults because they think they’ll get to do whatever they want
a shot of vodka to all the 20 somethings who are coping with a lack of rent money by sitting around eating captain crunch in dinosaur PJs wishing they were actually a pre-teen again.
THIS IS MY AESTHETIC
girls with short hair are hotter than any boy. so thats why boys get upset when girls cut their hair off. case solved
i went to starbucks to get a dirty chai (chai latte with espresso shots) but then i saw that oprah’s brand of chai donates to youth education so i decided to get that one and i ended up ordering a tall hot dirty oprah
the stupidest thing in the entire harry potter series was when they go down to the slytherin dormitory and it’s all dark and slimy and freezing and shit. as if lucius malfoy would let his son live in squalor like that. the house with the highest concentration of spoiled purebloods are happy to live under the goddamn lake? no.
wow this is the #1 best harry potter criticism i have ever read