where do all these retailers get off calling pants that go up to the bellybutton “high-waisted”. no. fuck you. that’s called “mid-rise”. i want to wear a crop top and not have a single inch of belly showing.
i want to be able to button my pants over my tits.
are you listening? you’re not listening. i want my shirt to feel redundant. i want to feel like i’m being vored by my own pants. bad-end, six pages into the comic,
concept: the year is 2034. i walk into work with coffee in hand. coworker is wearing cool shoelaces and i compliment them absentmindedly. they look me dead in the eye and say, “thanks, i stole them from the president.” scalding coffee leaks out of every one of my orifices and i hide in the bathroom convulsing for the rest of the day
it is physically painful to remember that people have continued to join tumblr since 2012 and that there are people–perhaps people reading this! right now!!!–who don’t have the foggiest memory of this fucking post. this post haunted me, do you understand, i saw and heard this code used in REAL FUCKING LIFE, I CANT FKJCLNG HANDLE THIS
