oh, great. my exceedingly unhappy and antisocial husband, hunter hunt hendrix of the band liturgy, has invited his equally unhappy and antisocial friend, stefan burnett of death grips over, and they won’t stop talking about piss. meanwhile, his rowdy drumming friend has damaged my nice granite countertops while laying down a sick beat and his spectacled twink friend won’t stop talking to me about anime.
New proposal ideas for when we get the first mastodon marriage Show more
"Would you do me the honour of federating with me?"
"Will you be the boost to my toot?"
"May you take my hand and become my real life MuFo?"
"Could you be the Turban to my Sage? The vape to my ape? the Nutt to my Cube?"
long ramble, work Show more
there is something fundamentally broken in the world when there are significantly more talented people working their ass off all day, and I draw down a decent middle-class salary for showing up, plopping my ass in a chair, answering three emails, and putting together three spreadsheets for a report noone reads. it is 9:30. i'm done for the day.
it explains why the boomers are all so confident we're just lazy, though. christ, imagine defining your self worth around this shit.
due to a contractual loophole in an 1852 probation sentencing it is impossible for a Youngquist to die
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