I was talking to a friend, asking if they've ever experienced something I've been calling "night stupid", where, late in the evening, you're in the middle of working and suddenly (or, sometimes, gradually) you're unable to do things well--and stuff that usually makes sense stops making sense. Yanno...just a noticeable and frustrating down curve in your overall ability to preform the tasks you're working on.
and my friend responds, "Tired. Bees, you're feeling tired."
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how the fuck is this even real
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i want to share with you some of my favourite graffiti from Pompeii
“Weep, you girls. My penis has given you up. Now it penetrates men’s behinds. Goodbye, wondrous femininity!“
“Amplicatus, I know that Icarus is buggering you. Salvius wrote this.“
“We two dear men, friends forever, were here. If you want to know our names, they are Gaius and Aulus.“
“Floronius, privileged soldier of the 7th legion, was here. The women did not know of his presence. Only six women came to know, too few for such a stallion.“
“On April 19th, I made bread.“
“ I have buggered men.“
“If anyone does not believe in Venus, they should gaze at my girlfriend.“
“It took 640 paces to walk back and forth between here and there ten times.“
“Chie, I hope your hemorrhoids rub together so much that they hurt worse than when they every have before!“
“Epaphra is not good at ball games.”
“Two friends were here. While they were, they had bad service in every way from a guy named Epaphroditus. They threw him out and spent 105 and half sestertii most agreeably on whores.“
“Secundus likes to screw boys.“
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Rewriting my entire fucking essay because despite being told to narrow shit down I narrowed it too far and my god am I gonna get violent
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today is the only day you can reblog this
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Pov : You’re a stray cat and Limp Bizkit is rescuing you
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