ah yes the gentrification of Hell.
finally a form of weaponized christianity i can get behind.
women are not real man and tax cuts are not a tool for the Jeep!
i uh… i hope hes not asking for more lebensraum?
{does Nick Swardson loitering search} {scrolls…} {thinking face} “i don’t see what their on about most of this looks relevant…” {looks at Ublock notification bubble} *** {66 blocked}*** “oh… oh my.”
oh its mamba time. for sure.
i haven’t been the same since my first snow storm in 71. Even now every time i close my eyes, i see the white blinding the darkness of thousands of snowflakes. Not that you could ever see those tiny snowflakes, mind you. They were fast and they knew their way around the cold air. i remembers the looks on those boy’s faces when they walked into that village and… oh Jesus. i shouldn’t think about that now. Sometimes i still hear Tex’s slow southern drawl. i remember the smell of Brooklyn’s cigarettes in the frozen air. He always had a pack of Luckys. But the boys are gone now… i know that. It’s–it’s just that i forget sometimes. And sometimes all it takes is the way a snowman yard decoration looks at me… just it makes me think. Sets me on edge. And i feels like I’m right back there… In the blizzard… In the whiteout…
who me? i’m just a poor lower class fine art patron.
you guys should show some respect that doctors a war hero.