i love this so much it's unreal

Squidward was in his 40s in 1999 meaning he had his prime years during the AIDS crisis. It’s likely he spent a large portion of his life closeted or self-loathing. It makes sense he would resent SpongeBob’s carefree lifestyle. SpongeBob is everything Squidward couldn't be

went out today. first thing i hear is this motherfucker drilling a hole. never saw it 🫩

"Opponents of data centers hate progress and humanity" is the funniest line of argument to me. As if it wasn't obvious which side loathes physical reality and wants to replace it with a digital simulation.

the downside of being born and raised in florida is that it’s my home and it’s hard for me to imagine living anywhere else, but at the same time i HATE it here i HATE LIVING IN BUM ASS FLORIDA!!!!!!$$$$$$$$$$

silly idea i had

- Let’s talk about birds?

> call to adventure > refusal of the call > refusal of the call > refusal of the call > refusal of the call > refusal of the call > tentative and begrudging acceptance of the call on nights and weekends only

the average zoo guest is an idiot. they're all like "ooh I want to see lions and elephants and monke" and not "this zoo could do with another 100-200 peacocks. I certainly would enjoy another 100-200 peacocks."

this is what unmedicated adhd feels like

It took over three months but she is finally drinking from the water fountain. What an inspiration. With enough time and perseverance we can all conquer our fears

once per month i allow myself to enter into an alternate personality i refer to as “the monkey” in which i give in to all of my ape brain desires without personal judgment or fear of consequence. often this ends with me going to mcdonalds and eating a 20 piece nugget and 2 big macs in my car in the parking lot but on particularly autistic occasions i tend to freestyle. tonight was one of my “monkey nights” and my biological requirement for subway was irresistible. i drove 45 minutes out of town as i knew my behavior would be unacceptable. it was here i made my move. the sandwich artist had never been through an employee training module to prepare him for this terror. entering the establishment, i initially confirmed that i was the only patron. i then approached the counter, my eyes glazed over. i did not speak. i did not make any facial expressions. i simply pointed at each item that i desired. the sandwich artist did not understand. i point to the bread. he approaches it. “this one sir?” i flick my wrist slightly to the left. i have clearly indicated an italian footlong. i hold my pose, continuing to point at the bread until he correctly identifies it. he brings the bread to the condiments. I point again. he hesitates. his arm lurches forward, then just as quickly returns, guarded to his chest. he is on the defensive. i have not blinked nor spoken a single word. “what meat would you like tonight?” his training has overridden his fight or flight instinct. i point to the beef. his hand hovers over it. he reaches in and grabs his first handful. i continue to point. he places the handful on the bread. i continue to point. his arm reaches back to the meat in its tin container. “you want double?” i can hear the fear in his voice. i point at the meat. he grabs the meat and places it again upon the sandwich. i point next to the cheese. he moves to the cheese. he does not ask which cheese. he belongs to me now. his hand maneuvers over the swiss. well done. i point next to the onions. he looks at me for a moment. a pregnant pause. he seems to want to speak. but he doesn’t. he is the monkey now with me. he grabs the onions. i lower my hand. he waits motionless. i lift my other arm and point to the oven. i betray nothing with my stare. my posture is strong. my deltoid is flexed effortlessly to extend my arm, merely a vessel to communicate what my brain so desires. he understands me explicitly. he moves to the oven. i move two steps to the right, down the assembly line. there is nobody else in this store. he is aware of the danger he faces. i continue to point at my desired toppings. upon completion of the sandwich, there is tension in the air. irrelevant to my desires. i approach the cash register. i then double back to the beginning of the line. i point at the sugar cookie. he approaches the cookies. he grasps the chocolate chip cookie. in an instant, i have transformed my pointing hand into a thumbs down. he gasps. he drops the cookie as if it were molten rock. i walk calmly back to the register. i pay $25 for a sandwich and a cookie. i leave no tip. i leave the store in silence and drive home listening to ben folds five. it is only after fully ingesting the sandwich that i realize i pointed silently at my doorman instead of greeting him upon entering my apartment. i lock my doors and play kingdom come deliverance 2 while wearing silk underwear

> invited to new discord server > ask server owner if the server is generalpilled or channelslop > they laugh and say "it's a good server sir" > join the server > hundreds of dead channels and unused general

just switched from incandescent to whale oil. I know I’m a century or so late, but I can’t explain how good I feel I’ve started searching for new territories to explore, I yearn for conquest It’s as if the suburban captivity has been lifted. The open seas are calling and

based based based based based

yes i believe in chemtrails, yes i believe they’d get temporarily shut down over a minor pause in nonessential funding