Today's Document
i don't do bad sauce passes
noise dept.
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
AnasAbdin
Keni

oozey mess
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
Sweet Seals For You, Always

Andulka
Misplaced Lens Cap

Product Placement
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

祝日 / Permanent Vacation
KIROKAZE
No title available
RMH
hello vonnie

No title available

tannertan36

seen from Singapore

seen from United States

seen from Australia
seen from United States

seen from Taiwan
seen from United States
seen from New Zealand
seen from Germany

seen from Australia

seen from Italy
seen from Germany
seen from Malaysia
seen from Australia

seen from United States
seen from Malaysia

seen from Australia
seen from United States
seen from Thailand
seen from Germany
seen from United States
@summerbreeze122
ようねとる
Mr.J is sleeping well.
Katherine Hillier
The first photos are coming in from Artemis II, and they are stunning. Photos of our home planet from humans we are sending further than anyone has gone before.
Taking out the censorship in Tomodachi Life in exchange of not allowing us to share things online is a trade off I don't love, BUT I think it's really funny that Nintendo said: Yes, you can have anything, if you make it.
unbelievable that its 4/20 and absolutely nobody has put the objectively best rage comic on my dash yet. i have to do everything around here
runner up
this probably doesn't count as a rage comic but its up there
i'm the first depressed person to be lazy for real
respect
if i was born 500 years ago i would have been speculating that the two dudes who went to get firewood together were fucking
chat, how long do y’all think 500 years is. Romeo and Juliet was written in the 1500s. 500 years is not the Stone Age.
why do u think people stopped collecting firewood after caveman times
Many such cases
"the most unrealistic thing about project hail mary is that a woman is in charge" WRONG look up the glass cliff. women are much more likely to be promoted to positions of power when things are going poorly and people need a woman to blame. she refers to herself as the "world's whipping boy." the person put in the position to have to commit ecological and humanitarian crimes of that scale in order to save the earth would only ever be a woman.
OK I WILL BECOME PERFECT STARTING NOW
"terminally ill people should be allowed to choose to die if they feel it is the best decision for them" and "euthanasia can easily become eugenics" and "we should provide support for depressed and suicidal people" are statements that can come into conflict but should all be respected
also “offering euthanasia to people who can’t afford actual treatment is murder”
Never getting over Charlie Kirk getting shot in the throat right after he uses it to downplay gun violence. Gotta be a top 3 assassination. Up there with Shinzo getting doohickey'd.
It's on some straight up Greek play shit. Man who uses his voice to justify violence and stir evil for years meets his end as that very violence tears out his throat. Poetic. Captured live from multiple angles. People stole his blood soaked merch to hock and his wife was giddy about sale numbers during his funeral.
eva stratt online shopping coping mechanism
ily (avaliable as a print in my pinned)
My three girlfriends. And yes, they smoke weed.
do they smoke weed?
Yes, actually.
you mean she isnt just smoking a cigarette? but a weed cigarette?
It’s called a bunt…. Not weed cigarette… And yes, it is a weed bunt. They all smoke weed bunts before we kiss. (They are my girlfriends,)
They don’t look like they smoke weed.
Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. I’m so angry you are so lucky my three weed smorking girlfriends are rubbing my shoulders to calm me down I’m so mad.
Your “weed smoking girlfriend” has a Hello Kitty tattoo on her belly. The one in the middle.
I printed out a photo of your avatar and taped it to my punching bag that I punch and I mutter your URL with every strong punch I punch you twerp…. Don’t ever Talk about Blaiz or the wicked Tat(tattoo) I drew on her ever again I Don’t wanna see you standing outside my home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again ok leave us alone this is the FINAL FUCKING WARNING
Well that escalated quickly……
What, was that? Hmm? Come again. *Blaiz grabs my shoulder* Come on Jory, they aren’t worth it, please. * I jerk my shoulder shaking her hand off* NO! NOOOOO!!! *starts to just pummel you with my big fucking fists. With each blow I let out a furious yell. The blows come quicker and harder and the yells get louder. I’m yelling so loud and now I’m crying. BREAKING POINT. The week was hard and I can’t take anymore. I’m opening sobbing at this point while you blood gurgle. All three of my girlfriends struggle to pull me off and they finally succeed and lead me away from the goo pile that is now your body*
haha oh my god
who even is this dude? someone needs some anger management classes.
love how he keeps reminding us that “I HAVE THREE GIRLFRIENDS”, “THEY ALL KISS ME”, and “THEY SMOKE WEED HURRP DURR”.
and let’s not forget the “Blaiz” and her “wicked tat”, or that he doesn’t “wanna see you standing outside [his] home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again”, and that this is “the FINAL FUCKING WARNING”.
“the goo pile that is now your body”
i’m dying over here, jesus
please, Jory, come challenge me to a bout of internet witticsisms; i promise, it’ll be fun.
*shoots you dead* Heh, idiot… *leaves with my three weed smorking girlfriends to go hold hands and kiss.*
this dude playin omg
Come again? *The bar falls silent. No one dares to make a sound, as you have just said a very poor choice of words at a very dangerous time. I remain slumped over the bar, not looking back to you. One hand limply holding an almost empty bottle, the other hand cradling my head. I repeat the question, this time louder.* Come again?! *You can hear me slur the words, the sentence sounds like a real struggle for me to get out. I’m clearly intoxicated. A bead of sweat rolls down your face as you realize you might have just fucked up in a very major way. Everyone else in the bar is pretending to not notice what is going on. The bartender idly washes a mug with a cloth. His eyes are closed and he’s muttering something to himself. A handful of people hurriedly leave. One person looks back at you, a look of sorrow on their face. They almost say something, but shake their head and cast their eyes down to the floor, and leave. But not you. You stand, petrified. A quick look at me reveals I’m still at the bar. You look to the exit, there’s still time. But there’s not, there’s not, there’s not. Your fate was sealed the moment you opened your mouth.* Mother fuck.. what did you say?! *I slowly rise from my stool and being to lumber over to you. I look a mess. My hair is unkempt, I haven’t shaved in what looks like months, there are dark heavy bags under my eyes, my shirt is stained and has holes in it, and I’m missing a shoe. But the main thing you notice is the gun tucked into my jeans, and my massive muscle arms that look like they were made for punching. You know that song about the boots that were made for walking? Yeah, it’s like that only instead of boots it’s my muscles and instead of walking it’s punching. As I drunkenly sway over to you, you think of your family… Will they mourn you, or will they try and forget this blotch of stupidity, that their child insulted the Jory publicly, ever happened to their family? Your thoughts are cut short as I now stand face to face with you. I grab your face and pull you even closer.* Playin?! There was nothing playing… no playing you fuck. No playing… it was real.. the realest thing I’ve ever know.. felt… Love. I loved them… Blaiz…. Chas-Chas… Funk… I loved all three of em… but they…*My face is wet with tears and I’m blinking constantly in vain to hold them back.* They left me… left… *Almost instantly the sadness leaves my face and is replaced with pure anger.* Playin? Playin?! *My hand leaves your face and starts to head to what you think is the gun. You close your eyes and see God looking at you, shrugging. ‘Pft, you brought this upon yourself dude.’ He says as he waves his hands at you dismissively. But instead of the gun, my hands grab yours. Your eyes jolt open and the anger is gone from my face. There is only sadness.* Left me… * I fall to the floor and sob.* Wow, grow up. *You say before you leave the bar but are hit almost immediately from a car and are killed upon impact.*
Happy 420
Happy 420
reblog to form a mighty faggot with your mutuals
I also felt this part was hilarious and should be included