Tag Archives: humour
& on the seventh day
A Narcissist Writes Letters, To Himself
“I briefly considered a universe where chickens were the dominant species
& every morning ate scrambled placenta with bacon.
The problem was getting men to wake up at four in the morning
& scream at the sun in unison for no reason.”
-God, on rest.
nipple weather
That’s not a gun in her pocket but I still don’t know whether she’s pleased to see me…
I’ve been meaning to upload some recordings for a while. Here we go!