shit my parents say

my mom’s sweater is ripped.

mama: “don’t tell papa, or he’ll have to fix it before we go” (earlier my shirt was too wrinkly so he made me take it off so he could iron it)

papa notices, my mom won’t let him fix it

papa: “well don’t move that arm then”

mama: “it’s a hipster hole”

papa: “just staple it”

papa: “fine, you look like a rag”

the great countdown

4 days: mumford and sons

15 days: skydiving

gogol bordello in august

might have a ride to said the whale in June!