JustAnotherLemming

Really looking forward to reading it man!

lol I’m an idiot

Also god forbid some gay kid sees it and feels validated despite their shitty parents.

Those ‘conversations’ aren’t about the parents with straight kids, they’re about the ones with kids they want in conversion therapy.

They could just take the mask off and make a Pixar called It’s Just a Phase.

You might get to 5 for a sequel with a similar arch except they’re all male models and it’s called Dead Bods.

Sorry, I just respect your love of puns. Not enough of that out there.

I actually don’t know what MotJ is, but just googled it and there’s actually a fair bit of options…I kinda hope the one you’re referring to is Bangladesh’s Ministry of textiles and Jute (motj.hov.bd)

What a great way to kill a king. Visually satisfying, scratches the gore itch, and also poignantly symbolic of the double edged (or I guess more edge-turned-around) consequences of wielding power. Kudos man!

I agree with others—great design, also *perfect* font on the title. Looking forward to reading!

Also making me want to revisit the three referenced works…thanks for the reminder of these.

They’d absolutely be outlawed if we weren’t 8x bigger than them.

As in, the dopamine of the familiar is enough, I can coast on this…even if that dopamine is sourced from participation in discourse on how we can’t coast on this and are fucked.

The *actual* joy of directly engaging with the scary unruly real world is way too unfamiliar to even be a consideration.

It would be fun though if they do make the terminators and then someone figures out how to glitch them out all at once, like the yodeling in Mars Attacks.

Dunno if I’d want to be there for it, but would love to be a kid in a post-butlerian-jeehawd future reading about how it all went down.

Good god…c’mon everybody LETS MUNGA TIME!!!

The heart will start to smile, then realize it’s been tricked into feeling something, sputter up some foul vinegar-smelling liquid, shrivel into a prune and die, causing her whole body to do what happens to the emperor of the skeksis in the beginning of the dark crystal.

That staff turkey is karmic molten iron, may they absolutely gorge themselves.

get the kid in the brown hoodie a scholarship

Pam Bondi is truly one of the most ugly-on-the-inside beings to ever exist.

An attack chihuahua where every facial expression looks like she is literally experiencing a hemorrhoid through all five senses simultaneously, and speaking to others as if they are that hemorrhoid. But also smug about it.

One is that she is mortal like the rest of us, and will cease to exist at some point. At some point, her head will no longer be able to smirk or feign outrage, or to emit those awful sounds.

Even the best of us are kinda douches. But we sure can buy bitcoins!

Proposed to my ex-boyfriend Kroger with this ring, and he declined. I’ve never felt more destroyed than at that Arby’s, the waiter halfway to our table with the birthday/proposal cake.

Final words before he walked out: “That’s my name, you finally found a way to wear it out.” Also pun intended.

In that case, try 🧟‍♀️ or even 🔪🌽🍷

This makes you a truly laudable co-worker.

If everyone was like you, there might be a few more hangovers happening in the world, but much less of the hopelessness and nihilism that arises from having to file files, shovel dirt, or sell shirts with a smile while in the grips of those hangovers.

Try this one instead if you’re still on the fence about him 😈

Ditto for 💦 and/or 🤤

Nothing in my experience communicates ambivalence as effectively as these. Except maybe 🍆🍑👉👌

Trump is the worst person you ever met while getting raped.

Except the “paint” is literally other painters’ paintings.

Look out for that brutal left prostit!

As someone living close to Seattle, many of us are also dreading the inevitable ICE occupation of that city that will precede the World Cup and justify itself (to itself) as cleaning up the city ahead of the games so ‘decent’ Americans and ‘law-abiding’ (white) non-Americans can enjoy it ‘safely’.

And may those woods be (un)lovely, dark, and deep.

Also they’d be fucking clueless and their crops wouldn’t grow, and they’d starve. Like in Oregon Trail.

May so many bodily fluids await them. May some of those be their own.

I wonder if he’s named it?

I’d name it ‘little don’, and pet it gently and give it little hats and stuff.

Twilight Zone edition: you exit the plane via the inflatable slide, emitting a yip of joy, then look up to discover that the entire city you once knew is now a metropolis of inflatable bouncing castles, only punctuated by lava-like flows of multicolored plastic balls where highways once were.

I’m trying to imagine the state of mind shared by Dan and Nancy Beanland—very much in love and now, finally, proud parents of a healthy baby boy—as they beamingly tell the relevant hospital staff what to put on the birth certificate.