Xuebing Du
shark vs the universe
Not today Justin
tumblr dot com
Andulka
blake kathryn
Love Begins
tannertan36
Product Placement
$LAYYYTER
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
hello vonnie
Kiana Khansmith
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
YOU ARE THE REASON
Sweet Seals For You, Always
titsay
Game of Thrones Daily
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
No title available
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@miainterrupted
im curious about what made you you. im curious about your taste in music. im curious about the way your mind thinks. im curious about how your body likes to be touched. im curious about your late night thoughts and how they make you feel. im curious about every single thing about you.
I wish I could have heard you sing this… I bet you have a beautiful voice
"I'm sweating like a pig": scientifically innacurate (pigs don't sweat), mean (kind of implies you think pigs are gross :( not cool dawg)
"I'm sweating like a motherfucker: realistic. you probably would sweat if you fucked someone's mother. implies you've got game
some of the music i listen to is straight up bad
“The employees need a larger salary” “hmmmm large celery”
Post Hangout Feedback Form
Was I weird?
Are you sure?
What was the weirdest thing I did? Be as detailed as possible.
How could I be less weird in the future? Be as detailed as possible.
Do you have any complaints or feedback regarding my behavior? Be as detailed as possible.
Would you be open to hanging out again in the future?
Should I give you some space after this? If yes, for how long should I avoid you?
Was I weird?
Are you absolutely sure?
I'm sorry.
I think the biphobic misconception that bisexual women only date men and bisexual men only date men may have a correlation to the fact that there is always a man freaky and horny in your DMs no matter what. It isn’t that bisexual women are secretly straight or that bisexual men are secretly gay, it’s that men are out there behaving like starving dogs and you feel so bad you end up feeding one, you know? Anyway, this coffee is a medium and I ordered a large. It’s okay, it’s busy in here, I get it.
Where are you finding these men?
Literally anywhere. Go to a gas station.
please don’t get tired of me
Maybe if I just work harder, this empty cup will pour again
Maybe the cup needs a bit of time to rest and refill?
Maybe the cup needs to lock the fuck in???
"queer-owned business" means nothing anymore. OpenAI and Palantir are both queer-owned businesses.
if this is how you find out that both sam altman and peter thiel are gay im sorry
actually hate that the bodys response to anything is nausea. ate too much? nauseous. ate too little? nauseous. an imaginary threat got you scared? be nauseous. on your period? you guessed it. sawed into your hand and need to go to the emergency room? perhaps throwing up into your open wound will be of help
The masculine urge to become a mountain man. Only come off the mountain twice a year to get supplies. Farm and harvest and hunt and build everything else. Talk to myself constantly. Stop coming into town for a few years after the age of 76. The sheriff finally comes up to check on me and finds the door to my shack wide open and my skeletonized body lying in bed, tucked up under the covers. They all forgot my name so they just put ‘Mountain Man’ on my tombstone. Shack left to decay but I’m not quite done having fun. My ghost lures lost hikers in and makes them keep me company. They come off the mountain rambling about the crazy old man in the hand hewn log cabin with fire in his eyes and leaves on the floor. I was alone in life but I don’t want to be lonely in death.
Whew guys sorry about that! Had a funny turn for a moment. Back to normal now.
You’re partially correct. This needs a gay subplot.
I was in love with another mountain man who lived on the other side of the mountain. We both liked being alone but sometimes it was alright to be alone together. His arthritis got bad and he couldn’t chop wood for himself anymore. Eventually his niece came to take him to the big city and put him in a nursing home. He didn’t want to go. I never saw him again. That’s why I died alone in my bed and not his.
If you asked Todd, he would know my name. 93 years old, blind as a bat with arthritis so bad he can’t move his fingers, rotting away in that horrible place his niece put him. He’d know. A smile would come to his dry lips to think of me, his fellow mountain man. He can no longer see but in his mind he sees me the way I was, in overalls with my rifle over my shoulder hunting squirrels. He knows my name but he dares not speak it. The words on my grave a more worthy epitaph. I wait for him on the mountain. None of the hikers that stumble in are ever him. He’ll return shortly, I’m sure. I’ll make him coffee on the wood stove one day. We’ll share some venison. He’ll come back from the holler. I know he will.
god's weakest soldier is scrolling tumblr instead of being productive or participating in any of their hobbies
the ashtrays in airplane bathrooms are a fascinating harm reduction metaphor. yes it's illegal as hell to smoke in there. yes there's a smoke detector that will snitch on you the second you light up. so why is there an ashtray? because if there weren't, your single momentary dumbass crime could kill 300 people. it is fucking vital that if someone does have a lit cigarette on a plane, they have a place to safely put it out.
accidentally said "invasive thoughts" instead of "intrusive thoughts" today and actually I think I'm onto something. this thought does not belong here and it is harming the local ecosystem
