I stayed on Instagram for approximately 2 posts. The first was friends on a babymoon. The second was a former classmate who had a post about “leaning into middle age”. No just no. The sermon from the funeral I attended this afternoon was given by a priest who had been friends with her for 54 of her 66 years of life. He shared stories about their camp days. A camp I also attended in my own time and have many fond memories of shenanigans happening. He talked about the joyride of their youth and how you transition out of that in adulthood. Fuck that. I want the joyride. As someone I know was fond of saying I want to skid sideways into my grave last minute and at full speed. We all have struggles and you seldom have any control over what those will be. You do have control over whether you make your life a joyride. Search for joy. Create joy. Marvel at the very fact of being. Enjoy the fucking ride.

#foodstr

Simple pasta. With the foccaccia on the side for extra carboidrati - home made Ala Nonna.

Mi piacere tanto di Carboidrati

I’ll allow it.

Show your work

Show your work

The penises would also die. Not sure about the butter.

I’m surprised to hear you are 50. Based on posts I thought you were in your 20’s. We’re the same vintage.

Why couldn't anon be my math teacher when I was first learning about multiplying negative numbers...

🥹 nostr:note1528xakcal0gsgzzypxlcncllrvxya4p7k3kzpurhpd42txvk4a6qhwmnpe

we need a history lesson on a nest, that goes deep into the origins of the tards 🤔💜

I want to go out like this

Whoah! That guy has a ton of material. Thank you!