

When are the owls gonna play sportsball?
I’m just a weird, furry, pan guy (cis he/him). I also have a big, blue username.
And these are not even all of the infinitesimal things you can find wrong with me.
When are the owls gonna play sportsball?
If they’re done by weight, now they pay less.
Uhm akctually that’s fettuccine. 🤓
This is a terrible analogy for bread crust.
I like bread crust 🤷🏻♂️
“Langdon’s gonna be pissed when he finds out Steve went up the stairs.”
“What should I eat right now?”
A1: Food
A2: Nothing
Always gets a unanimous vote for nothing
“Man, I wish you guys would let me eat…”
There’s a bit of changed text from Japanese to English where the Japanese says humans used to marry pokemon and the English says they just used to eat dinner at the table together. Maybe that’s what you’re thinking of?
Mr. Mime is just a guy.
I wanna work in a library. Not much people, quiet, simple.
But it doesn’t pay, like, anything.
Then again, nothing I have ever done pays enough. Not even the things that used to be considered well-paying back in my father’s time.
I guess the dude’s home is a hotel on the East coast of Australia. The coordinates point right to a Marriott a bit south of Brisbane.
I see at least 3 or 4 a day in Modesto. Seems everyone who bought them is in California. Specifically the central valley.
That’s just my fursona. I am not really a dog. ;)
Unilaterally Authorized. Or UnAuthorized for short.
Conservatives are the ugliest people I know both on the outside and the inside.
See: Kid Rock.
All you gotta do is kite one of the dudes at the top of stairs above Andre to the stair case, get him to attack while he is above you on the stairs and you’re standing slightly to his right, jump and parry the attack at the exact same time, and then you can just walk right past the fortress. ;)
I can get a pretty decent picture of the scene excepting that the writer names these places by name and I don’t know what they actually look like so the layout is entirely being generated by my imagination. It’s wet. It’s muddy. It’s miserable and cold. And It’s in London, a long time ago so everyone’s dressed like Harry Potter characters and covered in shit ala Monty Python’s Holy Grail.
Pretend it’s one of your homies talking to their mom and make loud, sexual moans.
Build yourself a Pee Wee Herman style breakfast machine and never have this problem again. Bonus points if it plays the Danny Elfman song really loudly as the alarm.
Klaus Barbie.