Father, Why Hath Thou Forsaken Me, the Sock at the Back of the Drawer?
You refuse to wear me because of my stale odor but you refuse to wash me for I have not been worn! This chaotic torment tears my mind asunder!
You refuse to wear me because of my stale odor but you refuse to wash me for I have not been worn! This chaotic torment tears my mind asunder!
DENIAL: Maybe this isn’t even a legitimate cursed pot of money. ANGER: But--fairy fortunes don’t usually come with a blood curse!
People will call you a monster, and in a way, they’ll be correct: you are a monster---a monster fucking hit.
The food that Goop gave us is almost gone, but we’re not too worried since most of us had planned to reset with cleansing fasts upon our return home.
With so many murders happening each year, it’s extremely difficult to develop and sustain a calling card that’s distinct.
A treacherous, smelly laundry pile mountain with its own micro-ecosystem, flora/fauna/foot fungus found nowhere else, and several documentaries.
Tapestry: That sure was a big red flag, folded up all nice, when he asked you to meet him in a sketchy part of town around 9pm for your first date.
I was once beautiful. Lacy, soft, and placed with love into your dresser in the coveted spot next to that lavender sachet your grandmother gave you.
Wanting to avoid doing three year's worth of laundry, I shall strike out once again, this time to conquer IKEA.
Feel free to make your kids play Connect Four while you pound some Child Hopbandonment, my extra-high-ABV double IPA.
“I am grateful for my talents.” How quickly can you fold laundry before getting hit on? Did someone steal your detergent?
Waist up. Open-neck shirt, light blue. Body angled but just barely, so the viewer wonders, "Is his body angled or not?" One hand across waist.