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I’m a huge fan of 1984, especially the writing of the characters and dialogue in it. There was a girl I liked at school, and I tried to think of the smartest and most clever way to ask her out. I decided to be like Winston, telling her how much I used to hate her and how I wanted to rape her and smash her head into a wall. However, instead of being wooed like I expected, she got mad at me and told the Principal and said I was “sexually harassing” her. It’s clear she just wasn’t intelligent enough for me and was embarrassed. However, no one wanted to hear my reasoning. I’ve been given detention and my parents have been informed, and despite how I’m clearly in the right everyone seems to think I’m some weirdo now. This truly is a dystopian society we live in......

So my dad is a raging homophobe. When I was 7 yrs old he nearly beat me to death for sleeping in the same bed as my friend in Minecraft. He overheard me listening to this song and burst into my room. I braced for impact, fearing the worst. Instead he remained silent and I saw this strange look in his eyes that I'd never seen before. He just divorced my mom and told us he is moving to Puerto Rico with his longtime partner Antonio Banderas and he's not coming back. Thank you We The Sus Music!

As a chef, it’s an insult to hear “air fryers are as good as frying”. Air fryers are fucking bullshit scams and are just convection ovens with an extra fan added. Seriously, pan searing or regular baking will always be better. I swear to shit Jared if I hear you compare fried chicken to air fried chicken one more time I’m gonna smack the gob out of you. Edit: I’m in danger, I never realized how deep the air fryer fandom goes. I will die on this hill Edit2: I’ll never stop upvoting and loving you all but… but I’m just gonna go cry about something totally different.. Edit3: i think id be a lot less upset if it was called an “extra air oven” as its a convection oven with extra fans. Edit4: if I had a dollar for every comment “you clearly don’t own an air fryer” I’d be able to put it towards a new toaster oven. Edit5: the chances of getting doxxed over kitchen appliances isn’t high.. but never zero. Edit6: apparently air fryers are taking my job? Sorry boys and girls, no more foi gras for the rich.

As the tree blinks from white to red to green, you look at the void under the tree that previously held presents. Fewer this year than usual, but some. How did you get here? Boredom? In March, you felt trapped with your wife and infant. You needed something to pass the time. Something you could throw yourself into fully. “Are you coming to bed?” your wife yells down the stairs. It seemed harmless at first, but as the pandemic drew on, so did your investment. You’ll stop soon, though. “Soon!” you reply, and you hear her feet climb the steps. The lights start to blink chaotically. You cringe because you could only afford the junk strands at CVS. Suddenly they halt—the alternation feature broken—on red. The red fills the room and covers your flesh. You look down at your hands, and they look like they’re bleeding. Like your calls. After a time—hours?—you realize you’re sitting in complete darkness. Your lights have expired, worthless.

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.