when you’ve curated your feed so you don’t get the Discourse anymore you just get 2nd and 3rd hand vagues and salt ab the Discourse and you’re trying to figure out what the fuck is going on
Y’all are out here bitching about a suburban dad being some sort of bdsm sex demon on the down low. Fools. In my day we were fucking murdered by hot doctor birds and we liked it
You kids with your City Leaf and your New Folk. Back in my day, we couldn’t choose where to put our house. We had to pick between four different roof colors. And there was no being Mayor or barista jobs. Blathers couldn’t identify fossils, we had to send it off to some mysterious mueseum and wait for three days to get it back.
And we were grateful for it.
damn grandpa
And another thing! There was no “why fy.” If you wanted to visit your friend’s town, you had to borrow their memory card. And you could only get to the island if you were one of them lucky sonsabitches who had a gameboy advance. To everyone else, the island just seems like a myth, a fairytale.
grandpa is screaming at his oatmeal again should we call the cops
tumblr: that thing you like is Problematic and you should feel bad for liking it
me, an adult capable of critical thinking and criticizing things while still wholeheartedly enjoying them: please get out of my living room
Mégane à trois 