Please God Help Me I Got Toothpaste In My Hair And It's Not Coming Out

Reminds me of the time i was keeping time to the air conditioner in college. it operates in 2/2 time at 30bpm

>listening to nin

>hear a new layer to song ive relistened to over and over

>"wow i cant believe i never noticed this before! i wonder what kind of synth he used. its very forboding in a specific way only nin can achieve"

>pause song to write post praising nin

>the synth specifically keeps playing despite the rest of the song being paused

>look outside window

>garbage truck

Now why do i feel the need to write this as an early 2000s romcom?

An asexual and an aromantic would make the worst odd couple imaginable.

Literally incapable of reconciling their differences or even feeling what the other person feels. They're good friends but neither of them understand the context clues the other is sending. One is always screwing the neighbors and the other is constantly confused when their attempts to romance a brick wall bear no fruits.

Easily the worst fucking sitcom possible. Every single scene is uncomfortable. None of the jokes land. nothing ever gets resolved. "But at least normal people would understand ace/aero better as a result", the marketing team pitches! Only to find out that the sitcom actually makes people understand them worse.

Runs a good first season and is immediately canceled with a cliffhanger ending

everywhere i go everyone compliments me on the particle cannons i attached to my body. they say things like "those look effective against armored targets, and also very precise" and then i blush cutely and obliterate a scrap car

a ukulele and a revolver with one bullet in it played with a massive grin.

Flirting with an aromantic is such a uniquely one-sided experience. It's like trying to use sign language to communicate with a blind person but in my case it's somehow worse because I don't actually know sign language so anyone who looked just saw me pantomiming to some blind dude. And the blind dude can't just tell you he doesn't understand because he CAN'T EVEN SEE how bad your communication is. Like.... at least with an ace they can tell you you're making a fool out of yourself before you're a week deep into their dms trying to recommend Izumi Sena Love Stage to someone who DOESNT EVEN SPEAK THE LANGUAGE OF ROMANTIC ATTRACTION and it's just UAFaeilALVEA. I can't even comprehend not internally fangirling whenever someone you're dating calls you cute. HOW THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW they only view being called cute the same way you do when a friend says you look nice. I.... just.... Logically, I understand. Emotionally, i feel betrayed by the very concept. Socially? I'm inept.

It's not like I'm not fine with aromantics. Friendship is the important part anyways. The logical part of my brain is just sitting there going "This is fine. That makes sense. They just want friendship and maybe sex. That's a perfectly valid way to live life". Meanwhile the emotional half is just sitting there screaming and crying incoherently, and i can't really do anything about that.

TOMORROW IS HALLOWEEN!!!

Declare a thumb war then in the middle of teh thumbwar pull them in and KISS THEM

An asexual and an aromantic would make the worst odd couple imaginable.

Literally incapable of reconciling their differences or even feeling what the other person feels. They're good friends but neither of them understand the context clues the other is sending. One is always screwing the neighbors and the other is constantly confused when their attempts to romance a brick wall bear no fruits.

Easily the worst fucking sitcom possible. Every single scene is uncomfortable. None of the jokes land. nothing ever gets resolved. "But at least normal people would understand ace/aero better as a result", the marketing team pitches! Only to find out that the sitcom actually makes people understand them worse.

Runs a good first season and is immediately canceled with a cliffhanger ending

I invented a new flavor of ice cream called "psy-op". It's like Neapolitan but instead of actually having different flavors in each stripe it's just cream flavored.

The best part about cleaning out your office is finding all the random post its and not remembering a single thing about why any of it was ever written down. My head is pounding, I'm dizzy, and I'm sitting here staring at a barely legible post it wondering what the fuck does Center of my soul have to do with Schelling's Theory of Rational Deterrence and why they're on the same post it as a grocery list containing the single item of ramen noodles.