My job is like defeating a final boss in a video game: I spend hours doing it, and when I finally do, it doesn’t matter to anyone else.

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[Safari hunt]
(Ok don’t tell them I’m an elephant)
*Adjusts hat and shades*
“Elephant?. Yes that way.”
*Points with trunk*


I wrote a poem: Dinosaurs, they used to roar, but… No more. Still mad atchu, meteor.


*chugging, distorted guitars, aggressive precision drumming*

Me: *wearing a bloody pig face and growling like a demon* One cannot step twice in the same river. I think therefore I am. Entities should not be multiplied unnecessarily.

Depth Metal


“I’m getting a vasectomy, orchestrated by my wife”
“You’re getting a vasectomy or your wife will do WHAT?”


$50 says Jesus rose from the dead to clear his browser history.


“Opps” is my favorite typo because it suggests the thrill of a secret counterinsurgency.


Asteroid: Hmm…who should I hit on?

Earth: [puts on sexy dress and a come hither smile]


INTERVIEWER: What would you say are your st—

ME: Strengths? Making inferences from minimal data.

INTERVIEWER: Okay. And your we—

ME: Wheat allergies? None whatsoever.


Therapists listen to anything you wanna say. The other day I was like “there is so much hair in the world and I feel like we could be doing something powerful with it but the hairdressers won’t comply” and my therapist just nodded