me, standing in the middle of a pentagram I’ve drawn using my own blood, candles burning around me, on the top of a mountain during a full moon, voice slightly muffled by the ram’s skull I’m wearing over my head: so…is he into me?
the demon I’ve summoned: just fucking talk to him man
why the fuck do people always remind you that taco bell isn’t real mexican food like do you not think that i know that like do you think i go to taco bell because i think the 16 year old white guy behind the window just made me authentic mexican cuisine two minutes before i pulled to the second window no do you know why i go to taco bell it’s because it’s 1:30am and my life is terrible so i order a coke and five dorito loco tacos and shove them down my face in the parking lot
listen i get all of the scoffing about why this doesnt belong in a film about the cat in the hat, but if youre telling me there is nothing funny at all about this scene then you are dead inside