Thank god the Republicans are ushering in a new era of children working mines

Those 40 acid tablets I had in my back pocket though

Hear hear

Im not very in tune with my feelings, so it came as somewhat of a surprise to me during a high stress period where I had defend myself on Zoom at work under duress in front of a panel with an audience of over 200 people in the chat… where I could feel my skin tingling and my vision starting to fuzz up at the corners, and could barely hear myself talk.

It took all that I had to breathe slowly and calmly, and a colleague later told me that I seemed fine in my presentation.

Someone can seem okay on the outside, but what theyre experiencing on the inside might be some crazy thing that just does not show.

I need a cat called Opium. For, for no reason…

I like the hastily drawn tree in the logo. "What are we about? Tax cuts for the r- Trees! We’re about trees! Maybe.

Edit: although the other parties dont have much different logos

I mean the latter is just minified JavaScript, compressed and base64 encoded. The hardware is the browser, which is cheating IMO

Just happy to join the club! Hope there’s a wine tasting or beer chugging ceremony

I suspect the temporal lobe epilepsy explanation is right and he may have stumbled into a barbed wire fence or thorn bush.

Ah true, it’s interesting he could smell things that others couldn’t

I think I’ve passed through there by car once. It’s either the country with the bullet holes in the neighbouring houses, or the one where the police pull you over for a bribe.

Gentleman of the highest honor, thank you

Can I get a Hawkwind one? I’m not a fan of motorhead

Plane was on the ground, and the rabbit was just crossing the runway to get some tax-free perfume for the missus

(Your link is a bit malformed)

That’s pretty interesting though, hilarity aside.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_Taylor_incident

I wonder if the police were right, and he had been (perhaps sexually) assaulted, but it was the 70s and men couldn’t quite talk about that, or something.

On the one hand, nice to not worry about food and a home cooked meal is always good.

On the other hand, when you have no agency in what time you wake up or what you eat, or even how you spend your evenings without anyone’s judgement, you literally regress back into a moody teenager.

I’m in my mid thirties and yet I feel like a child still. It’s actually worrying me.

“Jesus… when you say ‘get me off this fucking cross, so help me God’… is that a test? Or should we actually get you off the cross?”

( More ranting and screaming and moaning )

The disciples nod wisely at their leader’s self-sacrifice for… their sins maybe? And he will always be immortal in their hearts, because they’ve already eaten him or something.

The disciples go home, wiser and holier and warily eyeing each other in confirmation of the deeper meaning behind their saviour’s last words: “Guys, please, I’m not fucking around, get me down, please, I’m so fucking thirsty… Jesus fucking christ”

That’s not fair, he juiced his swimmer with RedBull and zinc before the race!

Nationalise it. I dont know what else to say.

Are you part of Jesus’s vampire coven now?