this actually makes sense.
people go ‘why does God let bad things happen?’
its because while some poor bastards are being herded into a mass grave somewhere God is busy making sure Kathy in Dunghole, Wisconsin has exactly the right amount of milk for her recipe.
you gotta pick your battles
(Source: astrodidact, via ivagindragons)
I touch myself whenever I think about you. More specifically, I rub my temples because I get a headache because you’re awful.