chaoticllamaorgasm-blog

[chaoticllamaorgasm-blog]

I'm missing out on shit

Shit I’ve Heard High Schoolers Say

i saw a list like this once and made one of my own over the last year

Its like coke but not as fun

But you cant smoke nudes

papa’s gotta whiz

hey, you know how some people smell like barbies?

im good with him kissing me, im not good with him penetrating me 

30 is a good age to start getting into fights

i only shed gangster tears

you’d be a great mother, you know how to use all your limbs 

it smells really weird. it smells like…. wet horse

you gotta kick it with your leg shut

you know when you put aquafresh on your vagina

y’know, throw my penis around like its a hot potato

i wanna do something today but i’m too ugly

thats why you’re going in the coffin

so we can go upstairs and show me how to blow properly

OKAY so the first time i rode a dick-

you taste like Fresh Linen

when we get back you’re playing my trumpet or you’re failing the class

ps i hope you get socks for christmas you asshole

i feel so straight its making me feel weak 

Hamlet’s long, but he’s worth it

i wonder if [ryan ross]’ an asshole

i respect any song that has heavy breathing for a bass line

i fuckin love muskrats

the sun is joseph stalin confirmed

i cant believe my mom catfished you

im gonna fucking kill myself he just ate a mushroom

[chaoticllamaorgasm-blog]

For fun, I will: be the one who killed me.

[chaoticllamaorgasm-blog]

[chaoticllamaorgasm-blog]

Couldn't relate to a character more

meirl

[chaoticllamaorgasm-blog]

God this is literally me right now

meirl

[chaoticllamaorgasm-blog]

“There’s nothing wrong with someone saving my life, I’ve realized, especially when I can’t trust myself to get the job done right. People need people. That’s that.”

— Adam Silvera

[chaoticllamaorgasm-blog]

How not to text 101

Me: hey

*waiting for reply*

*still waiting*

Person on the other side: hey

Me*immediately replies*: hey, how are you

PoOS: fine I guess

Me: how's life

PoOS:don't know how to answer that

Me:uh

Me* tries thinking of a topic to keep convo going *: so

Me*doesn't find topic*: bye

PoOS: bye

Me*face-palms**to myself* why can't I talk to someone like a normal person.

Me*cries myself to sleep*

Me*can't sleep cause has insomnia*

Me*WHYYYYYYYYYYYYY*

[chaoticllamaorgasm-blog]

Just with a hint of you know who.

[chaoticllamaorgasm-blog]

How much to make it

I know a lot of good American horror kind of plays into colonialist guilt, but just for once I wanna see a movie go HARD and HAMFISTED with it. Like, the (white) characters are staying on stolen native american land, except the malicious killer ghost is a white settler whose unfinished business is that he believes everything belongs to him and he is willing to kill to prove it. Trailer is a bunch of smash-cuts of white people being stalked by a guy in 1890s union uniform. Like: fade in on a red-eyed shadow on horseback on a prairie hill. Cut: a taxidermied buffalo head mounted on a cabin wall. Voiceover, the exorcist they call to get rid of it saying, “This�� thing.” Closeup of hooves pounding hard against the ground, horses screaming. “It lives in all of you.” Cut, girl running, panting hard with fear, hoofbeats getting closer, closer, a figure riding up behind her, a cavalry sabre glinting over its head. “It exists as long as you exist.” Cut, dude backed up against a wall, whimpering, when a bayonet punches through the door, mere inches from his head. “You cannot ignore it.” A gunshot, a splatter of blood on the wall. “You cannot erase it.” Cut, “MINE” scrawled on the bathroom mirror in blood. A shadow in a cavalry uniform appears in the reflection a fraction of a second before – cut to black –“And until you atone…” Fade in on the exorcist’s face. He’s Native American and just so, so sick of these kids’ shit. “It will never stop coming.” The tagline flashes across the screen one word at a time, interspersed with poorly-lit images of people getting run down by a soldier on horseback, spatters of blood, screaming, the glint of steel: “SOME. SINS. CAN. NEVER. BE. ERASED.” Music cuts off. A man breathes hard into the silence. Behind him, a rifle clicks, once. Title smashes across the screen: “MANIFEST”. Fade out on 1890’s American flag, the faint sound of a steam engine in the distance.

[chaoticllamaorgasm-blog]

i feel personally attacked 

[chaoticllamaorgasm-blog]

My friend recently started reached season 3 and made this

[chaoticllamaorgasm-blog]

There is nothing better than a slice of pie and a cup of coffee in the morning

[chaoticllamaorgasm-blog]

meirl

[chaoticllamaorgasm-blog]

[chaoticllamaorgasm-blog]

Meirl

[chaoticllamaorgasm-blog]

I once chocked on my cats paw.

[chaoticllamaorgasm-blog]