"I am not going to go pee. I just peed like five minutes ago, I refuse to let my bladder win." "That's not how it works..." "I. Refuse."
"Not all Trump supporters are racist, but they're okay with racism." Naw. Like, I get it, but if someone thinks the safety of brown people would be nice, yet worth trading for the tax rate they want, then yes, that is still racist.
Love is knowing your person would snort coke off your boobs if they did coke.
Monogamy never works out. I have a friend who tried a monogamous relationship, and they broke up.
Making a robot voice with the fan you're using to cool your underboob.
Because physical maturation doesn't have to mean killing your inner-kid.
“Love is influenced by no consideration, recognizes no restraints of reason, and is the same nature as death, that assails alike the lofty palaces of kings and the humble cabins of shepherds; and when it takes entire possession of a heart, the first thing it does is to banish fear and shame from it.” - excerpt from Don Quixote, by Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra
I no longer give a fuck about shopping on Thanksgiving. It is a bullshit holiday, used to this day to spread misinformation about the relationship of the U.S. with Natives. I don't really have a fuck to give that people are having dinner today. People have dinner most days, and you either are truly thankful for your family year-round and don't need another genocide cover-up day to spend one or more of the other three hundred and sixty four dinners with the people you're so thankful for, or you're one of the many who have little to no interest in being around your annoying uncle even once a year, in which case, don't. It's not like it makes it easier for damn near everyone to be traveling at once. And to anyone who ironically, and yet so appropriately, gives me shit for buying food and other necessities on Thanksgiving - a Native trying to get food from largely white-owned stores on a day that was supposedly about Natives sharing their food - I only have this to say.
I've never seen a sex scene or post-sex scene in a movie or tv show in which any of the characters try repeatedly to pull a stray body hair from their mouth, and this was probably the most unrealistic expectation I received from Hollywood as a teen.
"Do you need, like, a reason to talk to someone, or how does that work?"
-Trying to remember how to make friends after a particularly long and arduous bout of anxiety.