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I hate when people refer to orange juice as OJ
I hate when people refer to orange juice as OJ.
Why OJ? Do you want to sound cool? Is it so much of a hustle to say orange juice? Do you abbreviate apple juice too? " Hey yeah, let me have some AJ?" - said by no one ever. I just think it sound annoying af.
Edit: I don't have any issues with abbreviations, except for OJ as orange juice. Sorry if I offended some of you with sensitive feelings.
I hate when people refer to orange juice as OJ.
Why OJ? Do you want to sound cool? Is it so much of a hustle to say orange juice? Do you abbreviate apple juice too? " Hey yeah, let me have some AJ?" - said by no one ever. I just think it sound annoying af.
Edit: I don't have any issues with abbreviations, except for OJ as orange juice. Sorry if I offended some of you with sensitive feelings.
GUYS PLEASE HELP! I NEED HELP!
twitchquotes:WHEN I SAT DOWN ⬇️ TO PEE 💦 THERE WAS A BUG 🐞 IN THE TOILET 🚽 BUT I THOUGHT 💭 IT WAS DROWNED 🌊👻 ❓❔❓❔ N WHEN I GOT UP ⬆️ IT WASN'T ❌ THERE IM SOBBING 😭 IS IT IN MY FUCKING 🍆 BUTTHOLE 🍑⭕ WHERE IS IT⁉️⁉️⁉️
WHEN I SAT DOWN ⬇️ TO PEE 💦 THERE WAS A BUG 🐞 IN THE TOILET 🚽 BUT I THOUGHT 💭 IT WAS DROWNED 🌊👻 ❓❔❓❔ N WHEN I GOT UP ⬆️ IT WASN'T ❌ THERE 👉 IM SOBBING 😭 IS IT IN MY FUCKING 🍆 BUTTHOLE 🍑⭕ WHERE IS IT⁉️⁉️⁉️
Biden's America
The year is 2021. You look at the television. SIlver fox President Biden announces a vaccine mandate for employees. You clutch your limited edition Trump Funko Pop. It has begun. You gather up all your belongings, and jump into your truck, hitting the highway for the airport. Out of your rearview mirror you can make out a sleek black Prius pursuing you. You make out the numbers “1” “9” “8” and 4” on their license plate. You are able to lose the Prius and arrive at the airport. You are almost free. At airport security You see a young man being dragged away screaming. The guards yell something about him having more than 3.4 oz of liquid. Thankfully you only have an AR 15 on you. The guard inspects it.
“It’s for hunting,” you say.
They hand it back to you and wave for you to move along. You breathe a sigh of relief.
“One more thing.”
You turn to see a Guard staring down at you with their beady soulless eyes.
“I need to see your vaccination card”
It is too late. You try to run away, but you feel someone press a cloth against your face. Reality fades away. You wake up in some kind of lab, chained down to an operation table and gagged. The room is undecorated except for a single poster of Harry Styles in a dress on the wall. A single figure stands in the corner shrouded in shadow, fiddling with a syringe. As they step out of the shadow, you can make out their face, the roguishly handsome Gavin Newsom. He positions a large surgical headlight above you and turns it on. He holds up the large syringe to the light and chuckles, staring into your pleading eyes.
“Don't worry, it will all be over soon”
He removes his mask to reveal his serpent's tongue, flickering in amusement. He plunges the syringe straight through your “socialism is for figs” shirt into your arm.
“Nighty night”
Your world fades to black once more.
The year is 2021. You look at the television. SIlver fox President Biden announces a vaccine mandate for employees. You clutch your limited edition Trump Funko Pop. It has begun. You gather up all your belongings, and jump into your truck, hitting the highway for the airport. Out of your rearview mirror you can make out a sleek black Prius pursuing you. You make out the numbers “1” “9” “8” and 4” on their license plate. You are able to lose the Prius and arrive at the airport. You are almost free. At airport security You see a young man being dragged away screaming. The guards yell something about him having more than 3.4 oz of liquid. Thankfully you only have an AR 15 on you. The guard inspects it.
“It’s for hunting,” you say.
They hand it back to you and wave for you to move along. You breathe a sigh of relief.
“One more thing.”
You turn to see a Guard staring down at you with their beady soulless eyes.
“I need to see your vaccination card”
It is too late. You try to run away, but you feel someone press a cloth against your face. Reality fades away. You wake up in some kind of lab, chained down to an operation table and gagged. The room is undecorated except for a single poster of Harry Styles in a dress on the wall. A single figure stands in the corner shrouded in shadow, fiddling with a syringe. As they step out of the shadow, you can make out their face, the roguishly handsome Gavin Newsom. He positions a large surgical headlight above you and turns it on. He holds up the large syringe to the light and chuckles, staring into your pleading eyes.
“Don't worry, it will all be over soon”
He removes his mask to reveal his serpent's tongue, flickering in amusement. He plunges the syringe straight through your “socialism is for figs” shirt into your arm.
“Nighty night”
Your world fades to black once more.