the zaniest memester of them all

Current aesthetic: manic pixie dream girl from an early 2000s rom com. Jane, 27 yrs old, bisexual toasted marshmallow- she/her/hers.

[siderealglimmer]

[darkcomedies]

still believe that one of the greatest bits of all time was on January 6th, 2021 when. well. you know. and twitter was understandably an echo chamber of panic and fear and Justin McElroy just tweeted a selfie with a filter that was like “have a delicious national spaghetti day” followed by 3 tweets that were like “fuck. i’m sorry. i don’t know how to delete scheduled posts” and as i type this two years later i’m laughing

[darkcomedies]

a belated delicious national spaghetti day to you all

[themetalhiro]

Collab of all time

[avenuequeer]

The cats fandom is dying, repost if you’re a true tugger

[important-animal-images]

[thenookienostradamus]

oh siddhartha gautama, called Buddha, we're really in it now

[harbinger0fdeath]

[socialmaya]

[sunfortune]

God i prayed for the tide to turn for her. i’ll never forget for the rest of my life how she was treated

[funstyle]

i hate to admit this but i think if i were in a bad mood and spongebob were around i wouldnt be able to navigate that situation with the patience or grace it demands. and i worry he would blame himself

[funstyle]

im no better than squidward

[romcommunist]

hellllll yeah almost at 100 soups this year

[wizardshark]

This dude is living a life better than any of you could ever imagine

[jasmineiros]

[shitswiftiessay]

also, its sister tweet:

[dandalfthe-gay-deactivated20251]

How could you forget:

[galacticism]

[ripempezardexerox]

[sorry-im-a-terminalidiot]

[albatross-the-pen-chewer]

[high-fructose-porn-syrup]

[somethingusefulfromflorida]

[goingtothebes]

Visit Original Link

Audience member: "Hey John, can you play “Going to Maine”?" John: "No." *Audience laughing*

John: "We’re gonna play a new song again, if that's cool with you. Alright. Thank you. This song is a true story. *laughing* That’s the saddest thing about it. I hope that if you should happen, and if you do, don’t let anybody tell you not to but uh… If you should happen to be having the sort of year I was having when I was seventeen, you may feel free to sing along with the chorus, nobody’s gonna hold it against you. Uh, I know that twice that uh, I *to Peter Hughes* can I out you? This is Peter’s favorite of the new songs I think precisely because of the chorus. *laughs* It’s called “This Year”."

[The first time "This Year" was played live]

[gayhoediaz]

do you guys wanna see my favorite video on the internet yes you do

[alivedean]

hello LGBTQLMNOP community

[thebrickinbrick]

Preliminary Gayeties, Part 3

The child gone, Grantaire took the word:—

“That is the pure-bred gamin. There are a great many varieties of the gamin species. The notary’s gamin is called Skip-the-Gutter, the cook’s gamin is called a scullion, the baker’s gamin is called a mitron, the lackey’s gamin is called a groom, the marine gamin is called the cabin-boy, the soldier’s gamin is called the drummer-boy, the painter’s gamin is called paint-grinder, the tradesman’s gamin is called an errand-boy, the courtesan gamin is called the minion, the kingly gamin is called the dauphin, the god gamin is called the bambino.”

In the meantime, Laigle was engaged in reflection; he said half aloud:—

“A B C, that is to say: the burial of Lamarque.”

“The tall blonde,” remarked Grantaire, “is Enjolras, who is sending you a warning.”

“Shall we go?” ejaculated Bossuet.

“It’s raiding,” said Joly. “I have sworn to go through fire, but not through water. I don’t wand to ged a gold.”

“I shall stay here,” said Grantaire. “I prefer a breakfast to a hearse.”

“Conclusion: we remain,” said Laigle. “Well, then, let us drink. Besides, we might miss the funeral without missing the riot.”

“Ah! the riot, I am with you!” cried Joly.

Laigle rubbed his hands.

“Now we’re going to touch up the revolution of 1830. As a matter of fact, it does hurt the people along the seams.”

“I don’t think much of your revolution,” said Grantaire. “I don’t execrate this Government. It is the crown tempered by the cotton night-cap. It is a sceptre ending in an umbrella. In fact, I think that to-day, with the present weather, Louis Philippe might utilize his royalty in two directions, he might extend the tip of the sceptre end against the people, and open the umbrella end against heaven.”

The room was dark, large clouds had just finished the extinction of daylight. There was no one in the wine-shop, or in the street, every one having gone off “to watch events.”

“Is it midday or midnight?” cried Bossuet. “You can’t see your hand before your face. Gibelotte, fetch a light.”

Grantaire was drinking in a melancholy way.

“Enjolras disdains me,” he muttered. “Enjolras said: ‘Joly is ill, Grantaire is drunk.’ It was to Bossuet that he sent Navet. If he had come for me, I would have followed him. So much the worse for Enjolras! I won’t go to his funeral.”

[bruntalism]