no offense but money would solve literally every single one of my problems. like all of them. i dont have a single problem that money wouldnt immediately solve
why are non-millennials so personally offended by everything? like if i’m still wearing my jacket indoors, it’s because i’m cold, not because i disrespect your home/your classroom !! if somebody has got your order wrong, it’s because they’re very busy and simply made a mistake, not because they’re trying to jeopardise your meal !! if somebodies phone rings during a meeting/lecture, it’s because they accidentally forgot to put it on silent, not because they want to disrupt your speech !! just calm down, sharon, not everything is about you
my personal favorite is when you yawn and they’re like “am I boring you?”
like bitch i’m running on five hours of sleep and chronic anxiety
It’s come to my attention that I have not yet made a post
about Farmer’s Market Hot™.
Farmer’s Market Hot is a specific kind of aesthetic that is
the result of me watching Orphan’s Black and trying to describe the hotness of
Cal to others.
See my point?
Farmer’s Market Hot is a wholesome kind of hot. Rugged but approachable.
It’s not the kind of hot where you immediately go, “Oh my god they’re so
perfect, I want to take them home and photograph them/tear their clothes off.” That’s
for later.
This is the kind of hot for people who would visit the farmer’s
market to buy some organic cheeses on their way to pick up their kids from
their Creativity Through Music class. It’s the look that says “I’m here to
support our local beekeepers.” You see them and it makes you want to settle down.
You want to do your taxes with them, raise dogs together.
It’s borderline hipster without the elitism and irony,
borderline country without the sound of Tim McGraw. If they’re white, racist
shit like dreads automatically disqualifies them.
Guys will most likely be stubbly, or bearded, but not to the
point of lumberjack. Think Chris Evans in between Marvel movies.
Pictured: a man who wants to buy artisan bread from a stall
and be polite to the merchants.
Imagine a woman with a sunflower tattoo, wearing a high-low
dress and clunky dependable boots, holding a dog’s leash while she waits at the
knife sharpening booth. Imagine a man wearing flannel and holding a baby while
talking about ethical alternatives to quinoa.
Farmer’s Market Hot™.
Add this to your vocabulary.
It’s that time of the year again, so I felt the need to bring this back.
narrator: “now what we got in this scene is, uh, the delinquent is rowing them around and expects payment in the form of the wimpy kid’s popsicle, which already has enough subtext, but then the wimpy kid is like ‘god no homo i’ll just give you the tip’ and this motherfucker, dang, he like deep throats it in one shot like omg, and that’s when the fucking wimpy kid is like ‘this slutty catholic boy just gave me a case of the gay’”
when the cashier gives u back ur change and ur putting it away but u cant do it fast enough and suddenly theyre holding out ur shopping bag and u have no hands and the coins are dropping to the ground and the bag goes up in flames and the cashier is crying and ur crying and ur wallet is screaming and ur descending into hell