Decided I will no longer be paying taxes. What are they gonna do, tax me more? Go ahead.
I wont pay those either
Oh im going to prison?
The one paid for by my tax dollars?
Sorry. Didn't pay em. Now there is no prison.
I am at least 3 steps ahead of the government at all times.
(▀̿Ĺ̯├┬┴┬┴ Psst... kid, you wanna disable adblock?
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Hello, this is Kripp's red shirt
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Kripp
Hearthstone
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In the name of Renly of House Baratheon
Natalie Portman is the reason I work out
Natalie Portman is the reason I work out. I have this fantasy where we start talking at the Vanity Fair Oscars party bar. We exchange a few pleasantries. She asks what I do. I say I loved her in New Girl. She laughs. I get my drink.
"Well, see ya," I say and walk away. I've got her attention now. How many guys voluntarily leave a conversation with Natalie Portman? She touches her neck as she watches me leave.
Later, as the night's dragged on and the coterie of gorgeous narcissists grows increasingly loose, she finds me on the balcony, my bowtie undone, smoking a cigarette.
"Got a spare?" she asks.
"What's in it for me?" I say as I hand her one of my little white ladies. She smiles.
"Conversation with me, duh."
I laugh.
"What's so funny?" she protests.
"Nothing, nothing... It's just... don't you grow tired of the egos?"
"You get used to it," she says, lighting her cigarette and handing me back the lighter.
"What would you do if you weren't an actress?" I ask.
"Teaching, I think."
"And if I was your student, what would I be learning?"
"Discipline," she says quickly, looking up into my eyes, before changing the subject. "Where are you from?"
"Bermuda," I say.
"Oh wow. That's lovely."
"It's ok," I admit. "Not everything is to my liking."
"What could possibly be not to your liking in Bermuda?" she inquires.
"I don't like sand," I tell her. "It's coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere."
Classic
I sexually identify as a Minecraft creeper
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I sexually identify as a Minecraft creeper. Ever since I was a child I dreamed of stalking people in the dead of the night, making an erotic hissing noise, and then spewing my particles all over them. People say to me that a person being a monster in a dying Swedish pixel game is impossible and I’m more autistic than a Fortnite default, but I don’t care, I’m beautiful. I’m having a doctor fill me with gunpowder and implementing green and black pigments into my skin. From now on I want you guys to call me "Creepus Explodus” and respect my right to appear on retarded children's backpacks and sweaters. If you can’t accept me you’re a mob-phobe and need to check your entity privilege. Thank you all for being so understanding.
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