Most of the people I ever come in contact with in the Bay Area have substituted having a personality with tattoos, hair dye, and dietary restrictions.

ryan

you miserable fool

you wild son of a bitch

you gorgeous piece of trash

this is a post i am making on my dumb website at 2:38 a.m. PST about how i would go home if only i still had one to go home to

ok good-night

[exhales weed smoke]

OK boys, let’s wrap it up.

[hovers finger over button labeled “EXTERMINATE ALL HUMAN LIFE”]

I can’t say I feel bad about this. It was a hell of a run, but it just never really worked out.

[pushes button]

If they still made Popeye cartoons (and hell, maybe they do), instead of eating spinach he would do a line of blow or pop like 120mg of Adderall

Sometimes, God help me (I’m only human), I picture some sort of afterlife, and all I wanna do is grab my friends and the pets I’ve had throughout my whole life and go there

Oh my GOD being old is just this except your body hurts all the time and most of your friends are dead

Just to reiterate (to myself): there is a HUGE difference between Day Ryan and Night Ryan

I don’t trust anyone under 40 who wears a blazer and I don’t trust anyone over 50 who wears Converse All Stars (Hunter S. Thompson aside)

I don’t trust anyone who wears thumb rings