Airports are fucking weird. Like I’m dressed like it’s ‘95 drinking wine and there’s a dude in a three pieced suit next to me, someone in pajamas, someone who looks like they’re going to the gym after this, and like a million button up shirts.
Update. I’m hammered.
Second update: I’m sober now but very fucking tired and in a different airport.
Additionally: I have no idea where the fuck I am
Important information: I’m fairly sure Douglas Adams was just fucking paged??? What the hell???
Have you checked if you’re alive?
Buddy I haven’t cared about blood pumping through my veins since 1920. You just gotta move on and do your own thing.
So you’re saying there’s a chance you’re tumblring your ‘airport’ adventures from the afterlife?
im saying it doesnt matter because i have access to the internet
🔘 it isn’t my fault, i was given those beans, you persuaded me to trade away my cow for beans and without those beans there’d have been no stalk to get up to the giant in the first place WAIT A MINUTE
considering the womans name is martha, that also means krypton exists in the mass/age universe
listen, the squid who looks like a kid committed regicide after being trained by a war veteran, aided by two of the biggest pop stars who happen to also be secret agents after a foreign power stole their powersource
I am Silver Tongue, I am an artist. I have many characters and you can check out my art in the art tag. I occasionally practice witchcraft though I don't do anything too complicated. I am girl 2 and don't know what else to put here.
