I want my musicians to have a cool story to tell like John Frusciante (former guitarist of RCHP). The guy dropped out of high school after learning every Jimi Hendrix song on a shifty acoustic guitar then auditioned for Frank Zappa’s band but then declined to join after he learned there was a strict no drug policy, then he joins RHCP at 18, writes some of the best guitar work ever recorded for Blood Sugar Sex Magik, they got out on the map then he hated being famous so he quit life for 7 years, did a fuck ton of heroin, played the overdose game with tallies on his wall for how many times he survived, his good friend Johnny Depp waked into his house and filmed a shitty documentary named “stuff” about his struggles, loses all his teeth, burns his house down and al last has to get his arms amputated, quits heroin cold turkey, re- leaned guitar again and became the white Jimi Hendrix.
I can’t tell whether or not you hate her or you just hate yourself because you’re the weakest link in her family chain in terms of accomplishments and wealth.
Its fun to watch people who run get hurt from falling by tripping over a crack in the road while you just sit there and observe and laugh at the fact that they were so excited to go run earlier that day. You never get the full story from those runners, especially on their social media accounts.
I have a really hard time answering questions without a sarcastic response. Sarcasm is an acquired taste for people. I like my sarcasm dark, like black coffee and the dismal abyss that is dating in this generation.
Walking into IKEA always reminds me of that Pink Floyd’s The Wall scene with everyone one lined up single file all controlled and looking the exact same but with cheap furniture littered into the backdrop. It’s like walking into a store full of dystopian socialism mixed with The Wizard of Oz as everyone shuffles down that one fucking pathway maze throughout the store except when you reach the end, you have to solve math problems and listen to everyone’s uninformed opinions on what a Loften bed actually means and how it’s probably not going to be assembled right as the poor bastard’s wives are all so sure that this is the pathway to home decor enlightenment.
Eli Manning ALWAYS has a dumbass look on his face. He was probably confused and didn’t know where he was and suddenly found out that he was watching a football game that his relative was passively participating in for Budweiser.
It’s the best part. I really liked people for awhile, I have them the chance but now I’m starting to lean toward liking drugs more because drugs don’t ask where you’ve been. Instead, drugs are like “hey, come with us, we’re gonna go on an epic adventure and see cool shit and you don’t even have to go anywhere!”
You can peacefully do copious amounts of drugs while scrolling through social media and seeing all your engaged and married friends and then coming to the pinnacle of thought where you realize that they’re actually more alone and dead on the inside than you are. And then you don’t have to worry about lifting or putting down the toilet seat.
This is a bit unconventional but you could win out on both situations: Take out a massive life insurance policy, make your girl the beneficiary, fake your own death and evaporate from your current life. She gets the money to buy that insanely expensive ring which will probably suffice forever and you get to spare yourself losing pretty much everything you worked so hard for in case of a divorce down the road. Gotta be prepared in life.
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I want my musicians to have a cool story to tell like John Frusciante (former guitarist of RCHP). The guy dropped out of high school after learning every Jimi Hendrix song on a shifty acoustic guitar then auditioned for Frank Zappa’s band but then declined to join after he learned there was a strict no drug policy, then he joins RHCP at 18, writes some of the best guitar work ever recorded for Blood Sugar Sex Magik, they got out on the map then he hated being famous so he quit life for 7 years, did a fuck ton of heroin, played the overdose game with tallies on his wall for how many times he survived, his good friend Johnny Depp waked into his house and filmed a shitty documentary named “stuff” about his struggles, loses all his teeth, burns his house down and al last has to get his arms amputated, quits heroin cold turkey, re- leaned guitar again and became the white Jimi Hendrix.
I can’t tell whether or not you hate her or you just hate yourself because you’re the weakest link in her family chain in terms of accomplishments and wealth.
Ham cabin – slang for vagina
You guys take things too literal on here. But for the record, don’t tell me you’ve never chuckled for a second at someone who you saw get injured.
Life is kind of mean.
Its fun to watch people who run get hurt from falling by tripping over a crack in the road while you just sit there and observe and laugh at the fact that they were so excited to go run earlier that day. You never get the full story from those runners, especially on their social media accounts.
An absolute life hacker savage of exemplary status. Guy should get a Nobel Peace Prize for solving the universal problem throughout humanity.
Oligarch Joe’s Sautéed Monsanto Serfs Drizzled In Economic Depression
“Smoking increases your chances of premature death.” I haven’t seen the statistics showing that a prolonged life is a good thing.
I have a really hard time answering questions without a sarcastic response. Sarcasm is an acquired taste for people. I like my sarcasm dark, like black coffee and the dismal abyss that is dating in this generation.
The guy who’s just happy to be there because he finally made a team in something other than an office.
Walking into IKEA always reminds me of that Pink Floyd’s The Wall scene with everyone one lined up single file all controlled and looking the exact same but with cheap furniture littered into the backdrop. It’s like walking into a store full of dystopian socialism mixed with The Wizard of Oz as everyone shuffles down that one fucking pathway maze throughout the store except when you reach the end, you have to solve math problems and listen to everyone’s uninformed opinions on what a Loften bed actually means and how it’s probably not going to be assembled right as the poor bastard’s wives are all so sure that this is the pathway to home decor enlightenment.
Eli Manning ALWAYS has a dumbass look on his face. He was probably confused and didn’t know where he was and suddenly found out that he was watching a football game that his relative was passively participating in for Budweiser.
It’s the best part. I really liked people for awhile, I have them the chance but now I’m starting to lean toward liking drugs more because drugs don’t ask where you’ve been. Instead, drugs are like “hey, come with us, we’re gonna go on an epic adventure and see cool shit and you don’t even have to go anywhere!”
You can peacefully do copious amounts of drugs while scrolling through social media and seeing all your engaged and married friends and then coming to the pinnacle of thought where you realize that they’re actually more alone and dead on the inside than you are. And then you don’t have to worry about lifting or putting down the toilet seat.
Juicy sweatpants, Jordan’s, puffy vests, and hoop earrings. Obviously.
This is a bit unconventional but you could win out on both situations: Take out a massive life insurance policy, make your girl the beneficiary, fake your own death and evaporate from your current life. She gets the money to buy that insanely expensive ring which will probably suffice forever and you get to spare yourself losing pretty much everything you worked so hard for in case of a divorce down the road. Gotta be prepared in life.
People…in general.
I like to soften the language context and go with dark opportunism.
I think so, my Super Bowl bets didn’t go as planned so I’m exploring new options.