I tried to give Dave a head in a box to emulate St. Valentine’s fate, but the drone in question ruined said surprise by leaking oil out the flimsy cardboard seams.
It’s either really romantic or really idiotic that we continue to get each other the same gifts each year. Though I’ll take the victory this time, since I put the drone head in a Hefty bag before sticking it in a box.
#merry fucking vday | #or as im calling it | #rose lalonde gives me head day | #to her infinite infuriation im sure |
Just kidding, I already am done. For now. But though I’m falling quiet now, know that I haven’t left. I’ll never leave. I’ll always be there, on the boundary of blogging, ready to return. Ready to blog about my dick. Ready to serve.
#my duty | #my calling | #my dick |
I came back to complain about Dave Strider because the alternative, at this point in time, is complaining to him about him.
Our relationship has matured to the point where our romance is sitting in a room by ourselves complaining about each other to each other for hours on end.
#if only the tabloids were still around | #rosedave scandal | #caught whining in public | #gratuitous PDA |
Well, now’s your chance. Live a little, look a lot. Hello.
Haven’t you checked my GPOY tag? I only keep my shades on long enough to take them off dramatically.
#who hasnt checked my gpoy tag | #why havent they | #what grief | #such mourn | #very sorrow | #sweetblogandhelladave |
Not much good, really. Ten day old asks, yeah. Was gonna wait to answer this til I had some great shit to say but it looks like we hit that downhill point a while ago. Hmmm let me think of something good. There’s no more Faygo in the water mains? But that’s because they finally shut all the pumps off. The joke got too old for clowns even. Clowns.
What’s up with you Red?
Don’t worry about answering that Rust, the expert just arrived. Expert, I don’t actually want to talk about dangerous genitalia but we have to look very seriously at test tubes and scribble frantically on a chalkboard, in order to worry the summonerd.
I will trade you secrets, The Rufioh. How do you have sex when your anatomy consists of some Pacific Rim shit?
#what fucking class is that kaiju | #do red and astrea hop in a jaeger and like | #wrangle that shit back into the trouser rift | #thesummonerd |
I’m pretty sure it’s a universal constant.
But this is not choice ass I know. This place is not my home. Things are not as they should be. The comforting becomes unfamiliar and a chill runs down my spine. Something is wrong. What, I know not.
When I think of you and your physical appearance only two things come to mind. One is all that glowy flashy shit you got going on. Where’d you get eyes like that Riddick. Your banner you got them glowy hands. Your sidebar you got wings like a 90’s hacker movie with the leet codes projected on em. It’d be like fucking a rave.
The other thing I think of is the fact that you usually look like a 13 year old to me.
Best alien babe
Celebrity disillusionment the next morning as I would lose my untouchable idol status and that just will not do. Unless, I mean, unless you like rugged post-apocalyptic heroes and their perfectly tousled hair. Sometimes I pull that off.