Bullshit. I’m at lunch thankyouverymuch, and I have been for 12 minutes. It’s a good thing I didn’t see this when I was browsing lemmy 20 minutes ago.

A movie. You need more tickets to get a player, but we’ll keep track of your points.

Please find this guy for me. I want to buy him a Blu-Ray and an ice cream.

Necromechanicy?

Curse you, you Syrup flavored bastid.

Fuck yeah, I do.

It’s probably because most of the people that believe these things are impossible can’t even chew with their mouths closed.

You mean I have to die to discuss your insights on death?

Yeah. It’s not about having energy. At this point it’s about just being functional. At best.

There’s no part of me that doesn’t like Doc Bronners peppermint soap, but there are parts of me that like it more than the others.

I thought this was Kryten as I was scrolling past.

I did not say this. I was not here.

Of the 8 billion people on the planet, there’s only one that thinks you’re the main character.

This post double plus good.

The magnet pulls the truck to the right. The truck pulls the magnet to the left. They both have the same amount of pull. No one wins this tug-o-war.

My favorite tidbit about Emily Dickinson is that you can sing her poems to the tune of Gillians Island. Interestingly, this is not my wife’s favorite tidbit about Emily Dickinson.

It looks a bit like a lothcat.

It could be, if you read it in the nude and you close the book too fast.

It’s a good Scrabble word. It’s the sound you make when you get your sexual organs trapped in something.