I am not evil but my teeth are fucked from neglect and to some people that seems to be no different

I am gay but not famous unless you count having run a moderately well liked memepage on tiktok

I have medium sized boobs, I would call them medium sized

I don’t have any pithy yet personal followup for that one, not one that fits

“trying to goad god into making them bigger” didn’t do well with the focus group

the script will need revision if we’re gonna have any more than marginal retention and impact

I deleted tiktok from my phone a few days ago as I write this but the wounds on my psyche remain

beefin with my chick while I’m in jail

cacio e pepe

road work ahead

I’m in me mum’s car

haha I do that

Last night I had a dream that my friends were mad at me

everyone was hype on a new game, a free for all competitive co-op battle royale 3d fighting game inexplicably titled “DJ Khaled Must Die”

the hardware I possess in meatspace likely couldn’t handle the poly-density of such a thing but regardless my dreamself refused to entertain the prospect

someone was calling me a lame bitch over VC when I hung up my headset and logged off

I walked down to the cornerstore for a monster and some dream cigarettes, which are always at least three times better than the meatspace equivalent

At the drink cooler I ran into Felix Biederman of Chapo Trap House infamy, I told him I was a longtime fan and that he always made me laugh but that I didn’t like the bits where he and his cohosts would portray ableist stereotypes for the sake of mocking a political opponent

He looked over his shoulder, to the door, and then back to me

being near 7 feet tall in my dream he bowed somewhat to be closer to my height as he sheepishly apologized in a surprising display “I shouldn’t be saying this with so many eyes around but I hear you, honestly I’m a little tired of it too but it’s part of the brand at this point, it’s fucked up but we actually see a pretty substantial dropoff in listenership if we don’t get a little ableist with it at least every other episode” having cast the line he set his fishing rod down against the back of the collapsible chair, the wooden dock creaked as he stooped to grab a dewy modelo from the ice chest, it caught the light of the setting sun, shimmering between his fingers as he cracked it open, “anyways it’s nice to meet a fan, even a retarded one, but if you don’t mind I’m gonna get back to it, I hear tell the fish in this lake give incredible head”

I bought my dream cigs and shuffled back home, they weren’t even that good but I wound up eating at least 5 on the way, not even peeling them first I was so starstruck

Do you ever think about the peanut butter baby? He’s probably in middle school by now, too young to have pulled a devious lick but he’s probably out there saying 6-7 with all the other unkempt boys who are totally unaware they’re in the presence of a legend

That dream I described was a total fabrication by the way, but an unc-ly podcaster soliciting brain from a trout seemed funnier to me than the dreams I have had which mostly center around being pursued by some malevolent being or another which often prevents me from calling for help

That kind of dream isn’t as saleable

it doesn’t need to be real or memorable or comprehensible

it can even be horribly frightening

but it must encourage one to keep dreaming

you can try to cry for help but none will come

you will have no relief because the dream isn’t done with you yet

the dream has you