Ive always wondered about the poor villagers who lived in tigers territory. Every night a kitty comes out to play.

Nah. We tried, turns out penguins are as sneaky and clever as they are vicious. Lost a battalion and a half. Cold wars coldest secret.

Your mom’s a superfood

I’m glad that deep distrust I’ve harboured regarding brussel sprouts has finally been validated.

With genocide and plagues, oh my!

If we quit beef our problems would be over.

Why? It’s the next generation’s problem. And what have they done for us!?

Pretty soon we won’t need humans at all! Well I say down with the machines! I say we bring back gas station attendants.

I for one would like my battery swap to be carried out by a high school dropout of dubious sobriety. You just pull in, wait awkwardly making angry furtive eye contact with the attendant. You can’t tell whether he’s angry, or his face graffiti just makes him appear so. Probably both. He eventually ambles over and preforms the swap. He wipes your windshield in the hopes of a tip. Leaving grimy streaks behind, an apt metaphor for his life past or present. You hand over a fiver over out of guilt more than any appreciation of a service rendered. You pull out.

Done in 30 minutes. It’s the American way.

Only you can take a sad song and make it better.

198cm. Could knock 40cm off that and I’d be good with it.

Power bottoms… With an iron fist…

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Oh shit! We calling him “the adjuster” now!?

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Then why did I get fries and a shake with that!?

Man if you ever get the chance to see a wolf irl take it! At first you think it’s a husky, but as it comes out of the woods into the clearing you can see it’s the size of it, the size of the jaw. Built for snapping tibias. A predator’s gaze falls upon you. And you realize it’s definitely not a dog. All those half remembered, ancient tales of wolves suddenly being made truth. Whom will be hunter, and who will be hunted. You crouch and grasp at the forest floor. A rock, a stick, anything. It turns to go and so do you, realizing too late it’s buddy was in the woods to your back. It stops, looks over it’s shoulder once more, and asks for about tree fiddy.

Lol your 12&3 is a pretty good summary of Russian military history. The thing about Russians is there’s always more Russians.

It’s so sketchy these days with “designer drugs”. You never know what you’re actually getting.

Such a cool concept, I really enjoyed the show.

Heaven! Where heroine Tuesday blends seamlessly into crack pipe Friday!