Heard on the way home:
Neon lights, A Nobel Prize
The mirror speaks, the reflection lies
I do not think I will ever be able to see Our Glorious President’s face again without hearing these righteous guitar riffs…
whiskey tango foxtrot? | park on driveways | *zing* |










I know. I’ve been singing this song since election day.
Yeha… I am occasionally a little slow
.