the etsy seller says he knows i’m buying the authentic soviet greatcoat for sex reasons and he won’t approve the transaction until i name engels’ twelve proletarian measures against private property
you ever have “cry and scream yourself awake” level nightmares that are immediately the stupidest premises imaginable the moment you actually wake up
The last time I wailed “help, please, help me, heeelp” loud enough to have the whole house come running, it was because I was having a nightmare that I was in my laundry room, and out of the corner of my eye I witnessed a Snoopy stuffed animal slowly rise up on two legs, as if being manipulated by a ghost or perhaps made animate by a possessing spirit, and slowly start to dance the Macarena.
