All the other kids with the pumped-up kicks

Good, nothing is exclusive because of when you were born.

Old rich white people get results.

Live in a slum lords apartment building. I like to pretend I’m in the woods after the leaves have fallen when I go get a glass of water in the dark.

Can’t wait to fight Thomas

Your mother makes robots in hell.

Very true, might be a mix of this and the other half of the table having an orgy.

That’s the stupidest combination I’ve ever heard in my life! That’s the kinda thing an idiot would have on his luggage!

And drinking a refreshing Ç̷̧̡̢̧̧̙͓̮̮͖͎̱̤̳̙̺͍̺̜͇̠̯̗̼̯͍̖͈̝͎͙͓̦̞̝͙̺̼̗̘̲̙̮̺̪̹̪̗͓͍̳̲̼͈̖͗͑̾̈́̓̀͗̈́͜͜͝͝ͅͅơ̸̧̡̢̧̢̨̛̛̛̙̟̦͓̜̯̖̬̩̙͚̭͚̱͓̫͖̙̮̪̗̜̗̻̬͖̝̖͉̩̻̺͇̲̩̦͍͚̝̐̾͆̾̃̓́͋͑̀͑́̆̌̒͂̍̎̊̂̓̆̔̀͗̉̄̍̒̎́̒͊͛͌̑̒̽̿̇̀̅̊̄͆̊̈̿̀̂̓̈́͌͛̃͑͑͊̚̚̚̕͜͝͝͝͝͝ͅk̶̢̨̢̛̛̛̮̻͕̱͙̰̬̟͕̝̪̮̥͎̪̻͇̣̼͚͍̲̪͙̗̹̱̺̆͑͐̈́͛̏̽͐̿́̈́͗̽̏̔̋͊̀̅̽́̀̿̓̉͐͊͊̐̍̆̎̍̀͒̋̈́̔̿̔́͑̽̔́͛̾̂͑̈́̔̈́͌̍̈̄͛̍͐͐̈́̃͌̄̋̈́́̌̓̉̇̿̀̀̚̚͘̚͜͜͜͜͠͝͠ę̶̡̛͚͓̲̼͈̭͚̙̼͕̮̙̫̖͓̜̣͕̠̞̫̗͙̥͚̣̣̲̫̜̟͔̯̫̩̼̤̅͒̌̍̑̀̇͂̄͗̀̊̄̅̔̔͗̂̾̉̓̐͗̋͗͊̀̏̇͛̊̏̃̌͌́̈͋̑̒͒̈͌̈́͑̂̈͋̎̑̓̊̀́̐̚̚͜͝͠͝͝͠͝a̸̢̡̢̧̧̤̜̰̠̩̯͙͔̖̳̳̩̘̥͙͙̙̬̦̺̗̝͛́̍̓̇́̀͆͑͜ć̴̡̨̧̛̖̱̥̙̳͓̤̻̑͐̅̑̏̐͊͒̾̎́͗̋̎̈́͐̌̇̓͆̓̒͐̔̄́̂̊͑̒̉͑͑͂́͛͋͒̊͋̓̓̀͂͒̎͋͋̎̽́͋̀̏͒̒̿̒̽̂̔̂̀̅͂̋͐̋̈̀̿̿́̍̕̚͝͝͠͝͠͝͝͝͠ơ̸̢̨̨̢̲͚̤͖͇̦̯͓͍̤͈̹̖̞͕̗̬̮͔͚͙͎̩̣͓̹͎͚͈̖̚͜l̴̨̢̧̡̢̢̢̡̨̢̧̛̺̳̭̘͙̬͙͖̬̲̠͔͈͎͇̠̼̘̗̭̤̥̖̭̻͎̱͈͓̲̺̬̫̤̻̙̮̬̯̻͖͇͔̹̩̟̰̣͙̫͎̤͔̼̩͙̬̖̟̪̤͇̟̫̭̳͙͈͇̮̞͕̰̮̙̪̳̟͈̿́͌̀̄̽͗̄̄̆͑̔͊̈̊͌̄͒͋̎̓͐͂̀͛̊͊̐͂̀̽̒̂̊̔̆̏̌̍͛̾̉̽̑̾̋̅͛̌̆̎͛͑̉͑̕̕̕̚͜͠͝͠å̸̧̧̨̨̛̛̛͍̖̗̲͙̝̜̲̪͖̟̬̱̜̜͚̳̻͉͎̪̩͎͈̟̻̫̟͖̲̤̜̥̮̝̗̳͖͕̻̞̙̳̤͚̹̳͍̭͔̤̼͍̬̼̌̒̔͂̈͆̆͒͂͌̄͗̌̆̉̀̉̽́͂̔̆͂̽̌̈́̏́̿͋͂̎́͛̑͛̐͗̋̑̀̃̀̇̎͛̊̇̆͊̏͗͂̋̒̎͛͆̅͑̀̿̎̉͊͑̍̚̚͘̕͘͘͜͠͠͝͝͝͝͝ͅͅ

Unfortunately Daft Punk is no more, so get ready for…

Soundtrack by: 30-Seconds to Mars

Why have 2 people do 2 jobs, when you can have 1 frightened employee do 2 jobs or maybe more.

As a graphic designer hearing people roast comic sans and papyrus to make small talk with me at work gets so god damn old.

Thank you for staying off the hype train. There is nothing wrong with these typefaces.

Unfortunately I even have to avoid them though because they have become the Hitler mustache of the type world. Sure you can say you are rocking the Charlie Chaplin, but everyone from a distance will wonder “why is that dude rocking a Hitler mustache? WTF!?”

I have a lot of trouble understanding celebrity worship for anyone.

Don’t get me wrong I have favorite celebrities for movies/music. I give two shits what they do outside those mediums or what they have to say. At the end of the day we are all hopeless idiots regardless of status and I wouldn’t trust any of them as much as any other stranger. Because I don’t fucking KNOW them and they don’t know me.

Anyhow I’m not pointing fingers at Taylor Swift or her fan club. This has perplexed me way before the current generation. People have been following strangers like silly sheep since 0 BC. I get there are some deep seed instincts in being a part of a group that get warped here… but good gravy some people need to step back and have an introspective moment to break their fixations.

My trick is I don’t have friends.

ಥ_ಥ

It’s America, we count shit in stars and stripes.

Phil Drabble, well-known as a naturalist who writes and broadcasts about the countryside, was born in a town on the edge of the industrial Black Country.

Despite his unpromising surroundings, he was fired by the same nostalgia for simple things and quiet places that lies deep in in most of us, whether we are town or country-bred.

As an only child, he wandered over the the spoil banks of worked-out coal mines, bird nesting and catching butterflies.

He caught newts in ‘swags’ - the mining subsidence pools - and enlivened breakfast by keeping them in a glass bowl on the dining-room table. Because he couldn’t escape to the country as much as he would have liked, he brought what he could of the countryside to him. He tamed rats and hedgehogs and squirrels and stoats. Later, a badger lived in the stable and came into the house - and he kept a weasel in his meatsafe.

This book tells the story of the animals and birds that he kept, and the fascinating facts they taught him. It also tells a story that might have happened to almost any of us - the story of a boy, fired by forces stronger than himself, which helped him to escape from urban life to eam his living doing pleasant things he’d always dreamed about.