maidsuokasenpai

[maidsuokasenpai]

[maidsuokasenpai]

died and came back wrong and no one could tell the difference

[maidsuokasenpai]

jesus no

[maidsuokasenpai]

it's always bad for adults to interact with minors, which is why when I was born my mother was positioned at the window and I was birthed down a giant slip n slide that safely transported me to the hospital grounds, where I was quickly accepted and raised by a gang of feral babies who were born under similar circumstances. and that's why my posts are so bad

[maidsuokasenpai]

[maidsuokasenpai]

i was jumanji’d too when i was a kid but no one cared

[maidsuokasenpai]

[maidsuokasenpai]

Stop saying “there are plenty of fish in the sea”. I’ve got my eye on one specific, emotionally distant salmon with commitment issues

[maidsuokasenpai]

A few of the more creative spellings of Christmas I’ve come across while looking for Dear Santa letters in old newspapers this year.

[maidsuokasenpai]

sub or dom?

a burden

[maidsuokasenpai]

[maidsuokasenpai]

[maidsuokasenpai]

hfggvghjccgjghggfhvhhhhjhjfh goodnight, gorgeous. the tortures resume bright and early tomorrow

[maidsuokasenpai]

[maidsuokasenpai]

good god when the roast beast hits..

[maidsuokasenpai]

I love when characters are always drawn in lab coats even outside the lab because it implies that 1) they are either constantly violating lab safety rules or 2) they have a second, casual lab coat purely for external use

THE TAG ‘AND BOTH ARE SEXY’ IS A JOKE ITS A FUCKING JOKE I DONT THINK BREAKING LAB SAFETY PROCEDURE IS SEXY I WAS MAKING A JOKE ABOUT FICTIONAL SCIENTISTS. HAVE YOU EVER BEEN IN A LAB THEYRE NOT SEXY AT ALL. SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UPPPPPPP.

[maidsuokasenpai]

The problem: you are Michael Bublé, it is 2011 and you would like to make a Christmas album. Your producers want you to sing the classic Christmas song "Santa, Baby," but if you sing it as intended, it's gonna come off as, like, super gay

The proposed solution: you will rewrite the lyrics to the song to imply a platonic friendship between yourself and the man in red, making Santa a real bro who's gonna help you get laid by some hunnies, with cool, masculine gifts like a steel blue convertible, a yacht and tickets to a Canadian hockey game

The reality: the combination of the eroticism of your voice and the inherently sexual vibes of the song means you create a story about a closeted gay guy desperately repressing his desire to - as the kids say - fuck that old man, no homo'ing your way through asking him to trim your tree, promising you'll be such a good boy if he treats you well, and begging him to slide down your chimney