When people say there’s a special place in hell for someone, I like to think that place is finding them stuck inside a broken down elevator with my 7 year old nephew who averages 15.8 questions a minute without pause to breathe.
sommelier: would you care for a really fine glass of wine?
me: care for it? I’d nurture it like it’s my first born
What idiot called them incontinence pants and not nappy ever after?
Autocorrect changed anyway to aneurysm, and now I’m wondering what it knows that I don’t.
nostr:npub1krclv3hemj093kxly47afcwf7hxxhnr00y6sxd3t4k65csws4q4sxn68qh nostr:npub1cne6gvqcju47v4uw80ps2ksctxncrw8mq8t07ksmjf4pqmsh7uaqxlmuve I want to blow away in a cloud of ashes, “Thanos snap” style.
Except maybe instead of ashes, make it glitter. I want people to remember me years after I’ve gone, every time they pick something up and more glitter falls out
nostr:npub18ljjwuh8vt0lrh3fe3vsefddt40u297gtsk3d4v4ywhjnvms9zfqy480hq can’t remember which was first but was either the original Wicker Man or this little known gem…
https://movingpicturesfilmclub.com/2021/10/09/31-days-of-horror-9-melissa-cox-on-la-cabina-1972/