It’s 2036. Your mom was an e girl with an onlyfans and your dad is a sadboi guitarist. 98% of the Caucasian male students in school are named Aiden. Every afternoon you come home to check on Mom because she still thinks posting memes about wanting to die are in. She sees you pull out your homework and you sigh. “No, mom. I don’t want to listen to Lo-Fi beats to study and relax to.” She looks mildly disappointed but perks up again. “No horror trap/witch house either,” you interrupt. SadDad walks in and pats you on the back, but not before saying “Aye, fam. You look a little upset, u wanna go get a face tat?”
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What if we all spam the same thing?
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what if we all spam the same thing?
what if we all spam the same thing?
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How to kill a geologist
Disclaimer: my hatred of geologists is purely theatrical, but if I did have to kill one for some reason, it would be very easy.
I’d brandish my obsidian knife at them and they’d be compelled to approach. “That’s very cool,” they’d say, confident in their superior strength and endurance from all the rocks they carry around at all times. They’d shower me with very interesting facts about obsidian and hover just out of range of the cutting edge, waiting for me to exhaust myself. “But as it is volcanic glass, it’s very fragile, you see, and isn’t well-suited for use as a weap—” and then I’d hit them with the wooden baseball bat in my other hand, which they would not have noticed because geologists can only see rocks and minerals.
How will this affect my chains?
paul "scarra" walker
How is depression real?
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HahHaHahAhHAHA How the fuck is depression real? Just be happy 
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