I Do Not Appreciate The Utter Sass I Receive From Inanimate Objects. Sir, You Are A Table. LEAVE ME THE

I do not appreciate the utter sass I receive from inanimate objects. Sir, you are a table. LEAVE ME THE SWEET AND SOUR FUCK ALONE.

My phone recently updated and it’s giving me the time using a twenty-four hour clock. I am not too used to reading the time like that. So like the go-getter I am, I have been struggling to do basic addition and subtraction rather than just changing it back.

Okay this is just getting funny now

Today, Sergei told me that she just realized that it’s called “stuffing,” because it is used to stuff a turkey. She is nearly old enough to legally consume alcohol. This was after she tried to cut a pie whilst holding the blade of the knife.

I forgot how excited little kids get for parade candy. Like dude, you’re hyped? I am also hyped, I’m in a fucking parade. And I get to choose how much candy YOU get.

I hate how people have the audacity to disrespect anyone in show choir/color guard/theater/an improv group. Like, sweaty… I don’t meant to be the bearer of bad news but they’re literally going to wait until you get into a horrible accident and yank on your exposed nerves. They are going to comfort your grandchildren when you succumb to your age. They are going to personally walk you down to hell to make sure the devil gets his lil’ disappointment back unscathed. You are not special. The performers will always come out on top.