If you’re inner dialogue is still arguing or spitting daggers the next day, you didn’t get the better of nuttin’ and you sure as shit ain’t done processing.

When you wonder how much time you’ve wasted wondering.

Being as the New York Times hasn’t understood the plain truth since 2019…

More words

When everything tastes sour.

When you’re holding her hostage if you don’t agree to sell the house you are still trying to set the fuck up (month three).

I wonder how a different flavor of fuckup would taste as well, all things considered

I wonder what a different flavor of smart would taste like.

Because y’all thought you were watching a debate, it is no longer safe to watch my local news. Thanks for that. I can’t even get angry or disappointed about this anymore. All my fucks have flown the coop.

Time to disconnect

I’m done. Just… fucking… done… trying. Like anything.

By the way, fuck every living soul passing judgment on an eighty-whatever-the-fuck man spent a lifetime battling a stuttering speech impediment for failing to find words in the face of a batshit buzzsaw. Just saying.

Perfection and imperfection aren’t opposites. They aren’t even mutually exclusive.

When you realize the listening never outlasts the qualifier contextualizing what you were actually wanting to communicate.

Less is more than less more or less

When the thought “I haven’t one positive thing in my life” shows up DOA.

This one could use an update. We couldn’t stand the clutter so now we just hold new arrivals to the flame and watch the halogen pop.

Side note: If y’all fuck this up now, I am rechristening the War of the Bubbles. Its new name shall be the War of the Bed Wetters

After four years sitting empty, I suppose I may as well stop paying for the email package I applied to moondeer.blog. I suppose I need to find out if I ever stopped paying Discourse for the right to link empty comment sections.

lets-be-friends-and-fuck is a specialization of lets-be-friends while touch-me is a specialization of notice-me ∴ there is already a dating app for forging adult friends IRL or humanity has gone all in on the one-way mirror service paradigm (image courtesy the Cali K9 app).

Stop calling me “sir”

The respect isn’t genuine so it makes me want to pull your balls out your mouth.

When you’re hanging out at Cali K9 waiting to be noticed, having arrived late (something you’ve done many times over the last 1 1/2 years you’ve been taking Kota there), when, finally, someone comes over to ask just the right questions. “You meant to be here? This your first class?”

“Nope, last.”

When doves cry Wolfman Jack strawberry fields forever my girls just wanna have fun run Lola runaway training day of the Dead Milkmen

Oh, lord… please don’t let me feel I’m understood

Wait. Do all mammals yawn? Do only mammals yawn? Do we know why?