Review: Curebar 1g Disposable Vape

By -

i can't even with this basic-ass, pinterest-board-come-to-life vape pen… it's giving "i just discovered live resin and now i'm gonna tell everyone at whole away foods about it" energy. don't get me wrong the flavor is there — i got a blueberry live resin — it’s pretty and it works smoothly enough, but like the dudes i dated who brag constantly about how rich they are when they can’t even buy me lunch, it's trying way too hard to be sophisticated. props for being user-friendly and sturdy, i guess? but $60? in this economy? (that's like 420 cans of rockstar black!) maybe if you're the type who thinks la croix is spicy and fancy, this is your jam. it's the pumpkin spice latte of vape pens… costs too much, feels pretentious in a basic bitch Chipotle kind of way, but is fun to enjoy once in awhile.


💰 (1/5) too pricey, mate!

⚙️⚙️⚙️⚙️ (4/5) clinical, smooth, sturdy

🍃🍃🍃 (3/5) natural flav, hits okay

FINALLY GRADE: C, does the job

Comments

Post a Comment

newest coolest hottest goss 🩸

💾 the dirty qwerty, #006: suit up, slut up, slur up, then shut up.

By -
Image
💾 the dirty qwerty, #006 suit up, slut up, slur up, then shut up. 🩸 “slut” → “suit” “slur” → “suit” “shit” → “suit” 🧠 keyboard logic: • l → u: side-eyeable neighbors • u → u: no notes • t → i → r: we’re getting loose, but we’ve seen worse • h → u: ok but WHY • r → i: this one feels personal • i → i: thx guy • s → s: yasssss look. it’s being auto-puritan. you’re mid-text, dropping a “what a dumb slur,” or “she was slutty and proud,” or just plain old “shit,” and suddenly autocorrect says: “dearie… don’t you mean suit?” and listen: i’m not shaming suits. i own one. but i am shaming the part of the code that keeps hijacking the language of pain, power, and poop… and redressing it in department store politeness. slut-shaming? slur-erasing? shit-washing yeah. it’s all the same glitch. m’phone is trying to censor my mess. but mess is where truth lives. this episode was brought to you by the letter S — for slut, slur, shit, motherfuckin snakes on a motherfucking plane, but not suit today. ...
more of this shit »

Tarot: Wheel of Fortune

By -
Image
tarot card: the wheel of fortune -- cycles, change, acceptance. phyl’s “bunniversary” (not “gotcha day,” which i hate) is new year’s eve. i celebrate it because it’s special to us. her mullet haircut from summer has grown back. she’ll need another one soon. we’ve accepted the cycle.  i’ll snip slow and uneven again. she won’t care. punk rock girls don’t give a fuck. she’s got a mullet. she can see. life goes on. spritzing on my high-quality perfumes, especially lush, which gets good reactions. jessica’s anxiety is hitting hard, and i can feel the emotional weight it puts on her. not that i can fix it, buuutttttt i notice. tramp from lush… i miss it. smells like bitter herbs, and a forest floor -- tis a perfect distraction.
more of this shit »

the fear piss of the mind!

By -
Image
80% of your thoughts are negative. shocking? sure. fixable? yeah, to some degree. your brain is an absolute motherfucker. it’s built to hyper-focus on everything that sucks. but just because it’s normal doesn’t mean you’re stuck with it. meditation is like summoning your crusty fear piss factory and telling it to relax. you breathe. you focus. you let shitty thoughts roll by like the world’s worst parade - or flush the shitty thoughts and fear piss right on down your mind’s toilet. and slowly, they lose power. will you suddenly become a sunshine-and-rainbows perky bitch? no. but maybe you’ll stop feeling like every thought is a personal attack — and that’s progress.
more of this shit »

Assblasting Festival

By -
Image
From the Franiverse Wiki, the sacred source of lore and gastric terror. The Assblasting Festival is a core Franiverse blood orgy -- an official holiday. Celebrated annually by mortals, vampires, and Sims-based lifeforms, it is a metaphysical shitshow of digestive depravity. As one of the highest holy blood orgies, it’s a sacred, cursed, and utterly pooptacular event rooted in mass trauma and a metric fuckton of emotional gluten. Think Thanksgiving, but everyone’s dead, and the turkey is alive. The festival originated when Thorne accidentally served a cursed casserole laced with tainted plasma fruit. This infamous dish -- Gelatinous Soul Ambrosia Casserole -- was crafted from expired Makkabakka meats, ghost tears, and litterbox scraps. The result? Mass toilet casualties, soul docking (don’t let the casserole dock souls), and explosive bathroom Jackson Pollocks -- but not smelling like one. 🔪 The Grand Meal (The Last Slaughter) Participants consume spoiled or cursed food, triggerin...
more of this shit »