/lit/ - Literature

34-year-old mom and dad fag convalescing onto the chat. Nothing beats loading a bowl in your parents’ basement, eating your fat fucking feelings out to burger king, and watching Chinese girls eat (I think are mostly) alive animals on YouTube after a hard night of reading proust. It’s weird though, I left the viscous Chinese girls turned on on the upstairs telly. Father is watching it right now. I can hear it from under the crack in the door. Instead of his morning news, a Chinese eating freak biting into the brains of an alive squid. “What in Gods name are you watching?” “Anon, I need you to see you upstairs.” And as I mentally prepared myself for what I thought would pertain to the mukbangs, father, with his hands folded, now sitting across from me at a porcupine table, said he heard pornography from under the crack in the door the morning before this one. He then looked me in the eyes and inquired about the towel. Is the towel to mask the sound of pornography? The same diamond encrusted towel at the advent of the steps I use to deter marijuana smell. Unable to explain, I was involuntarily bound to nod my head. “It's not for marijuana?” No. “Because I found your one-hitter on your bed last evening.” He then placed in front of me a rainbow swirly pipe.

>mfw it’s not even a one hitter