Pjevs @kyphose - Tumblr Blog

one time my friends and i got bubble tea and my one friend didn’t know abt the tapioca pearls and he took a sip and then opened his mouth and let like 9 of them roll out of his mouth and onto the floor and then whispered “what the fuck”

hopeforourgeneration

It makes me sad when someone tells me to let them know if they are being annoying. It makes me sad because at some point, someone has told them that they are annoying.

bepeu-deactivated20171202

sometimes ‘brb’ stands for ‘be ready bitch’ so you have to be careful

psyanko

As a cat owner, I can confirm 50% of the time I am kissing my cats soft head and telling her how much she means me, and the other 50% I’m angrily telling her not to eat plastic

dateacutiesuggestion

Date a cutie who calls you both dude and babe

thebootydiaries

Me:*is doin me*

Yall:*are mad*

purplebuddhaquotes

Learn to say ‘no’ without explaining yourself.

(via purplebuddhaquotes)

turretty-deactivated20250618

when you forget to message back a friend

anarchetypalarchive

i saw this post earlier about therapists and it reminded me of my old therapist paul, who in my opinion is one of the greatest men alive and who did not put up with my bullshit for even one second

anyway i go in to see paul one week in the summer of 2016, and i’m doing my usual bullshit which consists of me talking shit about myself, and paul is staring at me, and then he cuts me off and says that he’s got a new tool for helping people recognize when they’re using negative language, and gets up and goes over to his desk

and i’m like alright hit me with that sweet sweet self-help article my man, because i’m a linguistic learner and whenever paul’s like here i have a tool for you to use it’s pretty much always an article or a book or something

paul opens a drawer, takes something out, and turns back around. i stare.

i say, paul.

is that a nerf gun.

yeah, says paul.

i say, are you gonna shoot me with a nerf gun in this professional setting.

he happily informs me that that’s really up to me, isn’t it. and sits back down. and gestures, like, go ahead, what were you saying?

and i squint suspiciously and start back up about how i’m having too much anxiety to leave the house to run errands, like it was a miracle to even get here, like i’ve forgone getting groceries for the past week and that’s so stupid, what a stupid issue, i’m an idiot, how could i–

a foam dart hits me in the leg.

i go, hey! because my therapist just shot me in the leg. paul blinks at me placidly and raises an eyebrow. i squint again.

i say, slowly, it’s– not a stupid issue, i’m not stupid, but it’s frustrating me and i don’t want it to be a problem i’m having.

no dart this time. okay. sweet.

so the rest of the hour passes with me intermittently getting nailed with tiny foam darts and then swearing and then fixing my language and, wouldn’t you know it, i start liking myself a little more by the end of the session, which is mildly infuriating because paul can tell and he’s very smug about it

anyway i leave his office and the lady having the next appointment walks in and i hear what’s all over the floor? and paul very seriously says cognitive behavioral therapy tools.