Why are men’s clothes much more comfortable than women’s clothes
I don’t wanna end up in my 30s saying I knew what I had to do but I just didn’t do it
linguini from ratatouille is the most accurate representation of a broke millennial, like he has no idea what he wants to do with his life and has a shitty apartment and gets drunk and has intense anxiety and actually acknowledges how weird his situation is. like, he just found this rat that can cook and can somehow communicate and control his actions by pulling on his hair and that’s weird af, but fuck it he really needs this job so fine let the rat cook, he doesn’t even care how weird his life is anymore he just needs money.
Luna Adriana (via wordsnquotes)
Masjid Nabwi, Madinah.
Me: Doctor, why is that syringe filled with glitter? Doctor: Anaesthetic.
my plan is to jog in a zip code where the average house is $1 million dollars. i jog everyday. i run into the trophy wives jogging club. we jog past each other so often, they’re forced to interact with me. we’re friends now. i’m invited places. i meet other millionaires, men who love me. i marry the richest, using an alias. throughout the first year of marriage, i’m moving assets and cash to an off shore bank account. i fake my own death on our anniversary. he’s heartbroken.
i started jogging in a new million dollar neighborhood. i’ve just made friends with the local jogging crew headed by ashtonlynn and brotyna “chichi” who has a single millionaire brother,
Is there any version of this plan where I don’t have to jog
u only have to jog past the ladies which is like 46 seconds. suck it up for the fraud of it all
nothing feels better than winning monopoly. not love. not sex. not free pizza. nothing
I’m sorry, have you tried pizza…?
yes and it doesn’t compare to owning half the board and watching the light die from your friends eyes as you take their money and feel your friendship slowly deteriorate
“you were my new dream” was the most romantic thing i’ve ever heard in my entire life disney fucked me good for the real shit