(no subject)

Dear people in the apartment next door singing about diarrhea at 2-something AM,

Shut up shut up shut up!

May you choke on your own beers and slip into a state of quietly blithering semi-consciousness where the only noise your alcohol-damaged brain is capable of urging your vocal cords to produce is a weakened little whimper of destitute abstraction.

Think of your mothers, dickwads. Think of your mothers.

-Rashaka

A poll!

[Poll #759809]