See? No lasers. Completely different.

You really only need 3 guns: - A AR-15 - A good bolt gun - A 9mm pistol - A 44 mag revolver - A 12ga shotgun (slug gun) - A 12ga shotgun, semi (buck) - A belt-fed Rifle - A 40mm GL - A Tank - A Barrett 50cal - A vintage BP rifle - A 2nd 9mm pistol - A Vulcan Autocannon

Gm X!

We've reached the White House rage tweeting at the Weather Channel for reporting the weather stage of this farce

If you can be taken out by a caramelized onion, then God does not want you to live

This is, honestly and truly, the correct take: i just love trash talking the British 😂

The potstickers gotta stick before they can potsticker There's a lesson to be learned there

Yeah even the most impoverished among us wouldn't eat that

I'll get you a large coffee @misterB1003 🥰

Kitten

In America, a warehouse store. A fully roasted chicken costs five dollars, the raw chicken beside it costs seven, and I stood between them like a man between two truths. Golden. Hot. Seasoned. Spinning in glory under the lights, in a line of its brothers. Four dollars and ninety-nine cents. I checked the raw birds. Seven dollars. Pale. Cold. You must do everything yourself. This is not commerce. Commerce does not move backward. Somewhere in this building, mathematics lies defeated. I asked the man at the counter. "How is the cooked bird cheaper than the raw bird?" "Been five bucks forever. They keep it that way." "But the store loses." "Yep. On purpose." On purpose. I held my receipt with both hands. In my land, a lord who lowered the price of rice in a hard winter was remembered for generations. They built him a small shrine. This store does it every day, with chicken, and tells no one. A woman behind me grew tired of my reverence. "It's just a chicken, sir." It is not just a chicken. It is a wound the merchant takes on purpose, so that anyone, on any day, with five dollars, eats like a lord. The bird is the message. The price is the vow. I will confess: I bought two. I did not need two. The second was not hunger. It was gratitude, and it was delicious. Some prices are not prices. They are promises. I return every week now. I take one bird. I bow toward the deli, briefly, so as not to alarm the staff. They have begun nodding back. The vow holds. The bird turns. Five dollars. Long may it spin.

The state taxes the work of the responsible to pay for the consequences of the irresponsible, then wonders why responsibility is in decline. (Just kidding, nobody in the govt wonders that.)

YOUR woods? Get fucked

I saw the band crowbar back in the 90s I know exactly why they named him that

I barely answer calls from people i know

Sometimes I forget that Twitter isn't just my mutuals.

The fuck it ain't

Me, flirting

It is PARAMOUNT that we not bail out banks for this.