today at school a boy named miguel jumped up on the lunch table
ripped his shirt off (his chest said “be mine”)
and started playing ‘careless whisper’ on the saxophone that he pulled basically out of thin air
like you can think i’m lying, i would, but
ARE THOSE BACKUP DANCERS
I was not content to believe in a personal devil and serve him, in the ordinary sense of the word. I wanted to get hold of him personally and become his chief of staff. -Aleister Crowley
Two more months and it’s 2015 what the fuck
I swear it was 2012 and we were all freaking out about the world ending like three months ago
GUYS, I AM OBSESSED WITH HEMLOCK GROVE. IT IS GOING TO BE THE DEATH OF ME. IN ABOUT SIX DIFFERENT WAYS. I AM NOT EQUIPPED TO HANDLE THIS. SEND HELP. ACTUALLY, NO. DON’T SEND HELP. I’m having fun.
As soon as Fred gets out of bed,
his underwear goes on his head.
His mother laughs, “Don’t put it there,
a head’s no place for underwear!”
But near his ears, above his brains,
is where Fred’s underwear remains.
At night when Fred goes back to bed,
he deftly plucks it off his head.
His mother switches off the light
and softly croons, “Good night! Good night!”
And then, for reasons no one knows,
Fred’s underwear goes on his toes.
— Jack Prelutsky