R.I.P. The 2976 American people that lost their lives on 9/11 and R.I.P. the 48,644 Afghan and 1,690,903 Iraqi and 35000 Pakistani people that paid the ultimate price for a crime they did not commit
category 5 kaiju
Breakfast for the office!
in which the actor who plays one of television’s least likable characters is actually super considerate and cool
do you ever think about who might have held that dollar in your pocket before you? it could have been a stripper or obama or your soulmate like wow who knows
Did you know that McDonald’s CEO tripled his salary without raising prices?
Did you know CEOs make so much money that we could guillotine the lot of them, double the minimum wage, and have a nationwide barbecue to commemorate?
Did you know that most CEOs got to the top with hard work and dedication and America is based on you get what you work for.
Everyone point and laugh at this person please!
I feel a strange grief today. I don’t mean strange as in unexpected. Today is the anniversary of my little brother’s birth, and subsequent death 13 hours later. This grief comes in a strange shape - the shape of someone I never met, who never got to define themselves. This grief is for a loss of a potential.
His name was Roger Edward Spencer III. My parents called him Eddie. He would’ve been 23 today. He probably would have been graduating college soon. I sometimes feel an Eddie-shaped hole in my life on important dates. Graduations, both high school and college. Birthday parties. My wedding. And of course, every April 15th.
I hope we would’ve been friends. That we both liked the same books and video games. Maybe he would’ve been in marching band with me. Maybe he would’ve gone to college nearby. Maybe he and Brendan would’ve been friends. I’ll never know, and I mourn that.
Every year on April 15th I buy a happy birthday balloon, spend a few minutes talking to it, updating it on the last year. Then I let it go. I’m not sure if I believe in heaven, but I hope he gets it anyway.