Now do you love me?
do you love me?
Now do you love me?
do you love me?
Now do you love me?

The boston dynamics soldier, detecting my hesitation, reaches it's hydraulic arm into my chest, swiftly pulls my skeleton clean out of my flesh and begins dancing with it.

Slashing the rigging of the trebuchet I'm standing on, I'm sent careening towards the castle walls. With a gasp, I suck in my gut, allowing me to pass through a five inch wide arrow slit and begin swashbuckling with the defenders inside.

Smacking my lips while reading the phrase "vending machine sauce".

Christmas gift from @QuestAbandoner, absolutely wonderful

Good morning. Christmas morning.

Shocking diagram of the Grinch's mountain fortress.

Checking in on what the homies are enjoying this evening.

Building inspector shaking his head, writing in his clipboard after noticing I only used one gummy jujube per stud in my gingerbread rafters.

"Sir, we're going to have to step outside while I fill out this form. This shit could come down on us at any moment."

I'm going in for a cheeky peek behind the gates of Oblivion, beyond which no waking eye may see. Just a peek, mind you!

Damned if I do AND damned if I don't? In this economy?

Hate it when I consult the bones and the bones tell me nothing.

Wanted to give a little shout out to my 3 followers for enjoying my tweets all these months. I just know we'll get a fourth follower one day.

Just picked up Okami HD, Journey, Mirror's edge Catalyst, and Rise of the Tomb Raider for $37 CAD on the black friday sale. Patient gaming rocks

(Walking into a dungeon) *retching* ..phwooo! Smells like a pile of shit straight up died in here!

The ogre, poised to cave my skull in, lowers his club, flustered by my kind words.

If you find a funny lowbie you gotta get your homies to follow them, or else they might get picked up by a rival twitter circle.

Snapping my fingers and nodding along to the groovy goblin chants as I slowly rotate on the rotisserie stake I'm tied to.

Almost got into a video game battle with a cyber punk, but I backed out at the last second after seeing the RGB lighting on his computer. There's no telling what kind of tech he's running under that hood.

Saw some cyber punks loitering in the video game isle. I could tell from their gaming shirts that they were a tough crew, so I decided to come back later. I'm not looking to get hacked today.

(Rube Goldberg in ER getting a crossbow bolt surgically removed from his butt cheek) You guys are not going to believe the series of events that led to this..

The lads on the front line have been saying that the war on christmas could be over by christmas.

Question 7) To ensure compliance with Small Vessel Regulations, a pirate captain should never set sail without ____

a) A one-eyed Scarlet Macaw
b) A brace of pistols
c) A crate of Caribbean rum
d) A valid Ontario Pleasure Craft Operator's license

*Slaps stern of galleon* This bad boy can fit so many brigands, bandits and thieves in it.

Longing for the days when one simply had to choose between carrying on the family bakery, or leaving to join a motley party of adventurers doing side quests paid in cash.

Secret agents are pooling their lunch money together to buy cool and fun spy gadgets from the Scholastics Book Fair.

Astronaut program interviewer at NASA: "How much do you freaking love science?"

Me: (Holding arms as far apart as I can)

Someone needs to go to the International Space Station and give those damn nerds a wedgie.

Building inspectors in Atlantis must have known that shit was a house of cards.

I know I was in for a whimsical fantasy adventure the moment I found out Hobbits lived in a hole in the ground.

Frying up a single bean over a candle.

I left a little bowl of cat food out for the garden gnomes, but the goblins got to it first. It was the expensive stuff, too.

Chestnuts roasting on an open fire? (Stacking kindling in my kitchen) I was hoping this would be a conventional oven recipe..

Imagine coming back from the International Space Station and realizing you left your Bazinga shirt up there 🤦‍♂️

A "bazillion" followers? Back of the line, pal. 👉

We all can sleep easy knowing @Ppallo and @racecard_driver can defend us in martial combat.

Accidentally brought my whoopee-cushion to bagpipe practice. I'm hoping the guys don't catch on..

I can't think of a worst instrument to bring into a maelstrom of musket fire than a big bag of air. One hit and those bagpipes are going whoopee-cushion mode.

Descending mission impossible style down towards the prized jewel on display in the museum, but my cable stops short, leaving the gemstone mere inches from my grasp. The night guard sees me and beats my swinging ass like a pinata.

I'm going in for a cheeky peek into the White House. Just a peek, mind you!

Americans are participating in a national "Marshmallow Test". They've been told they can have two presidents if they wait patiently.

America better hurry up and have their second Civil War soon if they want any chance of Ken Burns narrating it. The man is almost in his 70s.

Bernie would have hooked us all up with Adidas..

Doing a little exit poll, just to gauge tonight's results..

Spilling my big bag of Bernie write-in ballots on a windy sidewalk and trying to scoop them up like Kevin's chili scene in The Office.

I just can't shake the feeling that the Americans are up to no good.

Lots of incredibly lifelike raccoon costumes this year. Most are choosing a handful from the cat's food dish, instead of the bowl of full-size candy bars. Not what I would choose, but they are just silly kids..

(TV documentary narrator) "..but the hydrogen zeppelin had one explosive weakness."

(Me in my zeppelin, shaking the TV as it goes to commercial break) What weakness?! WHAT WEAKNESS?!!!

Hanging on every word? On the edge of your seat? Please, choose a less precarious position before we continue. I can wait.

I *can't believe* I got trolled in 2020 🤦‍♂️

A garden gnome got into the henhouse and is getting relentlessly pecked at, screaming and shaking on the chicken wire from the inside.

Remembering to use my turn signal during a highway median rollover to let oncoming traffic know I'm merging.

Now watch me whip.
watch me covfefe.
Now watch me whip, whip.
watch me covfefe.

One covfefe my good sir, haha! (Fumbling and spilling coin purse of dimes and nickels all over the cafe counter)

I find it hard to enjoy the pictures when they show twenty-four of them every second.

Hate it when my fishing lure is taken by an ancient leviathan of the deep, and it drags me out of my boat and across the water like a skipping stone.

Hijackers have taken over the Voyager 1 spacecraft and are flying it into the side of the Ophiuchus constellation.

Trying to find my way out of an art museum, but each time I try to leave I just smack into another convincing painting of a landscape.

(Lego City commercial voice) A wizard has fallen into a chasm in the Mines of Moria!

One of the garden gnomes got in my house when I was looking. I'm trying to frighten him towards the door with my broom, but he's ignoring me and eating from the cat's dish while I prod at him.

Putting up a little shower curtain in front of the bird bath.

The last thing I want to see when I crest a hill is another sweeping vista.

Benjamin Bunny was beside himself when he found out that Mr. McGregor was using cousin Peter's BAPE camo shark hoodie as a scarecrow in his garden.

(King Théoden) Four hobbits.. less then a twelve-thousandth of what I'd hoped for..
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(Aragorn, solemnly) Four hobbits will not be enough to break the lines of Mordor.

Just asked the local delinquents whether they knew who threw 1 ply toilet paper all over the trees in my yard, and they've confirmed that it was, as I suspected, the work of ghosts and ghouls. Not good. I am in no way prepared to deal with the earthly mischief of restless undead.

I'm camping overnight to be the first in line at the White House estate sale.

Praying for a speedy recovery for Trump. I've had a $200 bet that he would get re-elected since Bernie dropped out, and I can't afford a financial loss like that.

The SS Californian is famous for ignoring the Titanic, after it's captain looked through the wrong end of his spyglass and determined that the sinking ship was simply too far way to rescue.

You just can't compete with the skeleton decorations at the Museum of Natural History.

If I ever suspected who the murderer was in the movie, I would stay quiet. I wouldn't want to spoil the big reveal for the characters surviving the bloodshed.

My deal with the birds has gone south for the winter.

I can't believe the American's choose their president by holding a potato sack relay race to the sound of a jaunty big band orchestra. Primitive society.

Trump and Biden have each brought their best brain fold to the debate tonight. It's going to be a close match.

Okay, who unfollowed..

Spent two hours trying to reach a lollipop stuck to my bottom. Each time I reached for it my butt would move, causing me to rotate in circles. I finally grabbed it, but for a moment I was seriously considering calling emergency services.

The mafia are snapping my Tombow art pencils in half because I refused to draw their boss anime style. I don't know how much longer I can hold out.

The dishes come out cleaner if you whistle K. K. Disco while washing them.

(Saruman voice) Do you know how the guy first came into being?

Going in for a cheeky peek in my pantry. Just a peek, mind you.

The garden gnomes are fracking under my koi pond.

(I am Spartacus voice) I did 9/11.

My lungs are no place for a sip of coffee.

Going to the local marina. I only trust professionals to cut me free from six-pack rings when I find myself tangled in them.

Got kicked out of the museum for holding a torch near the fragile artifact textiles I was inspecting.

"If I's t'ever happened upon that there Sauron feller.. well he'd be best to watch that there step of his, should he be receiving a piece of my mind, mind you."

My companions at the Prancing Pony tip their pints in agreement.

Slapping my knee, tapping my foot, and doing Migos-style ad-libs to the Doppler effected trap 808 bass thumping from a passing Pontiac Sunfire

Confident uncle energy, arm behind passenger seat, full body twist looking out rear window as I floor it in reverse, sending both f150 and boat trailer flipping ass over head off the end of a 30ft pier.

fumbling around for the included PVC patch kit after my inflatable dinghy is hit by rolling broadside cannon fire.

Blinking the entire Sullivan Ballou civil war letter in Morse code during a forced POW propaganda video.

Snapping my fingers and doing jazz scat over the crackling bossa nova hold music on my phone

Having your ships hull shredded by broadside cannon fire is a common mistake often made by new boaters.

Hate it when the dusty map to my life-long treasure hoard is pried from the crumbling, cobwebbed hand of my skeletal corpse by some landlubbing, upstart adventurer.

A desert island cave resembling a human skull is the best place to hide your treasure from sniveling cowards who frighten easily.

A good sturdy rowboat should lift up out of the water, then splash back down, with each row.

(Making a perfect sonar ping sound with my mouth) That's you. That's what you sound like.

Hearing the classic M1 Garand "ping" after every eighth account I block.

(Pulling popsicle stick splinters out of my shoe) wow, trust the gnomes to mae a bridge.

I would have perished in this gumball machine if it were not for that man and his quarter.

Jordan Peterson taught me to put my house in someone else's shoes.

If I was flying towards a tower, I would preform a banking turn and avoid it. I can't begin to imagine what hitting a tower would do to my reputation as a pilot.

Since the attacks on September 11th, flight schools have trained to detect suspicious early warning signs, such as students doing the "get on with it" hand gesture during Approach and Landing Procedures.

Peter Rabbit was never cut out for a life of crime, though his efforts were commendable.

I always carry a small pie serving knife. You never know when you'll have to chip your way out of a flakey pastry shell.

Imagine being put in a pie by Mrs. McGregor.. what a ghastly way to go out.

An easy way to tell if your kettle is boiling is if it jumps up from your stove, squashing and stretching in mid air, sputtering steam and screaming like a train whistle.

Wow, check out this pine resin, bet it feels weird.. oh. looks like you got my finger.. haha, ok mr. pine tree, you give me my hand back right now lol..... no, that's my nice shirt you can't- oookay, well, I can still move my le- ...wait a minute now..
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In 1983, nuclear apocalypse was narrowly avoided when Soviet officer Stanslav Patrov did the "yapping" and "jerk off" hand gestures at several missile launch reports on his early warning system's radar.

(holding my copy of Peter Rabbit) I could have sworn this happened. Why would someone lie about such trivial events?

Sending my crimes resume to the Thieves Guild in hopes of receiving a tenured position teaching crime.

A dead giveaway that a painting is a replica is the gift shop price tag in the top right corner.

Just found out I was storing food in a dungeon and not a cellar. I've accidentally been supplying the local goblin insurgency with jams, pickles, and other non-perishables for several years.

It's impossible to tell if you are opening a door to a cellar or a dungeon. From the surface the sounds and smells are indistinguishable.

There's a fine line between shoplifting and crime, and I walk it with dexterous precision.

RIP David Graeber. Very sad news.

I just can't shake the feeling that these scimitar orcs are up to no good.

Oh your phone's dying? Have you tried kissing it gently on the forehead? Reassured it that you will defend the people of Gondor? Sworn that you will not let the white city fall? Then don't come asking me about some dumb cables.

The goblins have turned my prized corn maze into a low level dungeon. Thankfully a field trip of third graders is arriving by bus this afternoon. Their numbers should overwhelm them easily.

Trojan Horse? Nice try bud. I know a votive offering of surrender when I see one.

I'm working my way through Frog and Toad to build my reading attention span back up. I should be able to start reading theory in a few months.

I hear they're moving the manufacturing of consent overseas to cheaper labour markets.

I find each peek and boo to be a novel experience.

Singing a funeral dirge while sending a burning viking ship filled with micro plastics out to sea.

A slice of peanut butter toast has been found dead face-down beside my kitchen counter. Drawing a chalk outline and setting up crime scene tape until we figure out what the hell is going on here.

Shuffling around 3:00am twitter like a night shift janitor. Nothing but the sounds of air vents, squeaky industrial doors echoing down distant hallways, and the occasional impaired weirdo mumbling incoherently about foreign policy to a vending machine.

In a quiet weekday mall, slowly dragging my squealing ass cheeks down the glass barrier on the descending escalator, loudly sucking the last bit of my timmy's iced capp. The combined sounds set off multiple anti-theft alarms.

Putting on my bicycle helmet before going on Street View. Google will just drop you right in the middle of traffic if you're not careful.

Woh, hey there. Sorry for bumping into you on the timeline. I'm just gonna scooch by you there, bud. Sorry bout that, thanks.

There's a man wearing a barrel and suspenders going over Niagara Falls.

Warning signs on a man's bookshelf:

1. World of Warcraft strategy guides up to Wrath of the Lich King

2. Leftist theory that will definitely be read someday

3. Calvin and Hobbes collection that was a gift but is way too nice to casually read

4. Classic stories of woodland critters adventuring

I like to stay up until morning so I can enjoy another cup of coffee with everyone.

We should be suspicious of birds and their lofty ambitions.

I'm proud to announce that our grassroots efforts have changed the emperor's mind.
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The Emperor has decided not to feed us to his exotic beasts, under the agreement that our little resistance movement vacate the city sewers we've been operating out of. This is a huge win for progressives everywhere.

Leaving goblin pits to fester and multiply in your yard is a classic lawn care mistake.

The goblins keep eating my garden gnomes and leaving their bones in ritual piles around my yard. Dastardly creature.

Opening the raccoon cage and watching the gnome I'd mistakenly caught go scampering away into the hedgerow.

The gnomes are clinging upside down to my bird feeders. No! stop silly gnomes! These seeds are not for you!

All the homies are reviled politicians fleeing their angry population via private helicopter

Pulled over on the side of the king's road, using a branch to unlodge a mangled goblin corpse from the axles of my horse cart, nervously dragging and hiding it's body amongst the brambles.

Just fell through a false floor while a villainous creature seduced me with their cryptic speech, drawing away my attention from the inconspicuous leaver in their hand.

(Responding to the slurring, disheveled trucker behind me in the gas station line who is describing the ancient alien conspiracy to me) Umm.. English please? Can't you science nerds just dumb it down for us simpletons? Can we drop the technobabble? Yeah, skip the jargon please?

If I were building Egyptian pyramids, I would simply deploy Eclidean geometry in place of alien technology.

My alien technology is now officially ancient, and will no longer be receiving updates from the developers.

The next Bernie won't be for a while, as the name Bernard has steadily fallen out of fashion since the mid-50s.

Spilling my big bag of microplastics next to a protected wetland habitat and trying to scoop it up like Kevin's chili scene in The Office.

Folks, there's a goddamned Cheeto in my snack mix.

Twitter is telling me I have passed 100 followers, but there's no way that can be right. My pinned tweet specifically says I have three followers. Whatever the issue with the twitter servers is, I'll just keep posting and maybe get a forth follower someday.

Carrying out a tray of tea to the Marxist insurgents making camp in my backyard, dropping it and gasping in fright as I see them ashing their blunts into my marble bird bath.

Putting together a special forces extraction plan to get my cat out of the neighbor's backyard without having to talk to my neighbor.
|
Telling my dumb redpilled nephew that his paintball ghillie suit is "straight heat, bro. Tactical drop", and that I'm definitely going to have to borrow it for a few hours.

My ass is stuck in the town square's well. I'm holding up a newspaper, playing it cool as people pass by me, cluelessly going about their day. But I'm starting to fell a fart building up, and am terrified of the embarrassing, reverberating sound it will make in front of everyone.

Being broiled alive in a large cauldron as tribal goblins dance around me, I dip my finger in my broth and taste it, smacking my lips and nodding approvingly at the delicate balance of flavours.

This cashier has left me no choice but to have a nice day. It's not what I had in mind, but I can't let them down.

Emptying a canister of bear spray at the extremely pissed off goose ripping the front fender off my car, but forgetting to open my window first during the panic.

Hijackers have captured a blimp and are flying it into the side of the Empire State Building, continually bouncing off it and slowly deflating with each woopie cushion helium fart. Jet's inbound.

The moment I notice an account is being ironic, *snaps fingers* Bam. Blocked. I would never fall for such a transparent ruse.

Just saw a small child eating candy bars straight off the shelf at the grocery store. I had to explain to him that he is supposed to face away from the security cameras, tuck them up the sleeve of his hoodie and walk out of the store before he can eat them.

Reply guy? I fancy myself more as a riff wingman.

I've just been informed by the stationary brands I follow that it is #NationalLeftHandersDay and I just want to say how nice it feels to be seen, to be heard, to be valued, to matter, to-

Love that feeling when you know you've just witnessed footage that will be in the next Adam Curtis film.

You're very clever, Sandcrab, very clever. But it's spongemen all the way down.

I'm donating my small cookie tin of various coins to help kickstart the economy. This may be all the stimulus we need.

Watching American refugees drowning beside the swamped, capsizing Maid of the Mist through those coin-fed tourist lookout binoculars.

(Shouting into a smoking military radio set, dirt flying up around us, as mortars and machine gun fire mulches our position) "they're dabbing on us, sir! They're dabbing on us!!!"
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Hold your position, lieutenant. We will be whipping a nae nae on these noobs, stand by.

Doing the severed thumb trick with my hands to any magician I pass on the street. "I see you're with the guild", they say.

Icecream treats are such wimps, I could easily sit in a hot car for at least thirty minutes without melting.

Shaking desperately on the security cages that crashed down around me after tripping the Twitter anti-spam alarms, because I simply like all my homies posts too much.

Awkwardly walking across to the other side of the timeline so people don't think I'm following them.

Shaking around in my seat, lips peeled back from the g force, screaming like an astronaut as I approach the event horizon of HyperNormalisation.

Congratulations to Kamala Harris for becoming the last president of thew United States.

I just can't shake the feeling that Nickleback is up to no good.

The body of Ötzi the Iceman was actually discovered many times over the centuries, but most people decided they "would not touch that thing with a 10ft pole".

Don't even bother asking me to join your Leftist organization if your flag is not emblazoned with one or more AK-47s. Your just wasting your time.

(To the tune of "my neibor's lawnmower") brrRut-TUT-TUThhhhhrrrmmmmmmMMMMMMMMmmmmmm
mmmmmmmvvvvvvvmmmmmmmmmmmwaaahhhhhh
hhhmmmmmMmmmmmmmm

Flattened into a pancake after the CIA drop a shipping container of MKUltra drugs out the back of a C-5M Super Galaxy directly onto my jungle archeologist base camp.

Screaming while firing a .50 cal out the side of the Richard Scarry apple helicopter, as hot bullet casings pour down onto the streets of Busytown.
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Throwing myself out the side door of the Richard Scarry apple helicopter as it's leaf rotor burst into flames, but a loose thread on my pants snags on the door. My pants begin to unravel as I descend, increasingly nude, towards the Cambodian jungle below.

Hyping myself up and letting out a full chested scream as I rip out each crossbow bolt lodged in my gambeson.
|
This was the result of some light crossbow maintenance this morning. Devilish contraptions.

(Pushing up glasses) Heh. I've just cast Library of Dark Banishment, for three Dark Points you have to shuffle your draft tweets and discard two at random.

"Avoid marching your men up steep terrain." "Always fight with the sun behind you." "Prolonged campaigns drain national resources." I strategize to myself, as I'm ravaged by a herd of African Wildebeest I'd spent the afternoon throwing rocks at.

Banging my broom handle against the ceiling and shouting at the sweatpant parkour kids doing front flips on my roof.
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Banging my broom handle against the side of my ship's hull and screaming, after putting up with the Siren's song for the last two hours.

My experience as a levied militia crossbowman is just not cutting it on resumes anymore. It's like you need ten years experience as a man-at-arms just to have the privilege of getting lanced down by some knighted failson.

Jumping the median on the information superhighway to escape the mods.

I'm no monarchist, but if someone were to knight me by ceremoniously touching a sewing needle to my shoulders as I kneel, and placed a thimble great helm upon my head, I would have no choice but to uphold their divine rule.

doing an MKUltra mind wipe on myself by letting AI text-to-speech read the Lincoln Project twitter account to me each night as I sleep.

I am doing a Critter check-in. Showing support for one another...I need SIX critters to post, not share, this message to show you are always there if someone needs to talk. pretty sure I know who will.

One of my few goals in life is to never be shown dancing awkwardly in embarrassing Adam Curtis B-roll footage.

Looking at my calendar and hooting gleefully as I see it's Adam Curtis binge week.

I like to stay up until morning so I don't miss anyone's GM tweets.

Sending my warmest Brithday wishes to Bobby Shmurda, and the best of luck in his parole hearing.

There's a bear sitting on my kitchen floor with his head stuck in a cereal box. I've been swatting his bum with my broom and saying "No, mister. Get out of my pantry. Shoo Mr. Bear, shoo. Don't eat my honey bunches, you cheeky villain". But it's no use. I have to put on tea for two

Chugging down the highway in oncoming traffic driving my Popcorn Sutton model-T, while my homie in the back throws Molotov moonshine mason jars at RCMP cruisers.

Tried to do a cool butt-slide down a handrail. Unfortunately I forgot to bring my wax, and my trousers caught a rusty spot and tore wide open. I'm dead set on redemption though, so I'm swallowing my pride and asking the scooter kids if I can borrow their wax.

Just stuck a gas siphon into a mole tunnel and now wriggling moles are pouring out into my bucket. Physics is amazing.

Just got home from the hardware store and found the outline of a man wearing a barrel smashed through one side of my house out the other. I can't believe I have to go back for drywall and putty, I was literally just there, the cashier is going to think I'm crazy, so embarrassing.

Observing a festering orc pit through my binoculars from my kitchen window, I shake my head disapprovingly and return to my dishes.

Watching Indiana Jones with Blathers at 4:00am.
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Blathers sleep schedule has been destroyed by this quarantine.

Kids in the 1210s: wattle and daub.

Kids in the 2010s: waddle and dab.

See the problem?

Pouring out half a pot of last nights coffee into the sink like it's Moet in a rap video. You know I can afford that bean, homie 😏

It is considered a common courtesy in the military to move forward and fill the hole in the line after the men in front of you are vaporized by grapeshot artillery.

Muzzle-loading a Brown Bess and casually whistling fife tunes, preparing to go John Wick mode on the six battalions closing in on my farmstead.

Standing around with my hands on my hips like an overbearing supervisor, pointing and barking orders at the contractors I hired to install a popcorn ceiling in my McMansion ballroom

Believe me, my young friend, there is nothing - absolutely nothing - half so much worth doing as simply messing about on twitter.

(Clearly flossing) I'm dabbing! I'm dabbing! I'm dabbing!

Defacing the pristine Martian landscape by carving epic wojaks into Mount Olympus.

but with my hand on my phone, I shrink from opening the app. Here comes a poster indeed! And how am I to show him due honour? With his account humbly offered, with the ashes of the posts of his youth fluttering in the wind of his priestly garments, he crosses the timeline.

Thinking of a way to combine Marxism and Euclidean geometry. This will either create the purist form of material reasoning or lead to Johannes Kepler 'mysterium Cosmographicum' levels of insanity.

Proud to see the boys returning home after a week long campaign deep into Twitch- occupied territory.

Looking at my calendar and seeing it's Opposite Day, I latch myself into my nuclear bunker, just to be safe from shenanigans. But the opposite is true, and I've locked myself outside of my bunker with mushroom clouds growing on the horizon.

An employee at my local stationary shop overheard me say I "wasn't all that into Mildliners", and I was promptly chased out while getting lashed with an open stapler.

If you're going to wrap your phone in tinfoil to avoid detection, it is best practice to prick it with a fork first, and place it at the center of a 400° oven for 45-60 mins.

Spent twenty minutes doing a 53-point-turn backing my Camry into a parking space next to a Leopard main battle tank, finally bumped into it and discharged a shell that blew out the windows of every vehicle in a thirty car radius.

Hearing the high pitched zing of my musket ball ricocheting off of big foot's skull, he slowly turns to face me, and I realize peering through the foliage just how fucked I am

Reached a new low point in the pandemic today. Had to trade my prized stamp collection for a flintlock Kentucky long rifle.

I've just been informed that I've been mistakenly posting on twitter instead of linked in. I cannot believe this. Everything I've posted on here was intended for the eyes of professional employers.

Just laid three years worth of limestone blocks before realizing my wooden measuring stick shrank in the desert heat. The next guy's shift starts in 2 hours he's going to lose it when he sees this mess.

Putting my best tweets onto the timeline and watching them blast away like a gas station receipt out a car window on the highway.

Thinking about my asshole great-grandson auctioning off my framed twitter screenshots, while the Antique Roadshow guy explains all of the jokes wrong.

Hungry vacationers to the abyssal zone should not miss the chance to try some delicious marine snow. Best to avoid the flaking whale carcass, the line can take several hours.

Getting a set of FACGCE wind chimes and letting nature generate Midwest emo music for me.

The underglow on my bed serves a dual purpose: scaring away spooky monsters, and impressing JDM tuner dudes.

Per the advice of Warlord Twitter, I am now engaging cataphract horse archers in an open field.

Three day old body of Scrooge McDuck floating face down, slowly bobbing and drifting in his pool of coins, haunting reflections of gold light rippling across the tile walls

(Peering over glasses at the computer monitor) Press... "The Like"... button... *click*. Press... "Subscribe"....... *click*

Hemming? Naturally. Hawing? Don't be daft.

Wearing my lifejacket today because there is too much ocean content in my timeline. I'm not taking any chances.

It breaks my heart that I can no longer lick the envelopes of my tweets, nor gently kiss them before sending them out, should I be viewed as a harbinger of pestilence.

Touching my light switch and getting blown to my ass by 120 volts. Confused and in total darkness, I reach for the light switch

There are only a few things I'd love to have in life. 500k in various foreign currencies, multiple counterfeit passports, an mp5 w/ folding stock, and a .txt file with 50ish good tweet drafts.

Yes, climate change is reducing the distance polar bears can hunt across the ocean. But eventually it will reverse, and polar bears can hunt across the entire parched sea floor, picking up seals flopping in the dust.

Postman Pat is the Initial D of England.

Taking the bus to the new Fast and Furious movie.

Clicking the buckle between my legs in my booster seat, I attempt to start my car. After five minutes of my engine turning over I unbuckle myself and head inside, defeated.

Looking out my window into the night time twitter timeline, and promptly slamming my shutters closed, a latch heard clicking from the inside.

Think I will stay in quarantine until my skin grows hairless and pale, my eyes double in size and recess into my head, my basement fills with water and darkness. I will suck moss off my cave walls for sustenance. I will wait.

Trying to explain the difference between an inkjet and a laser printer to my parents who believe wifi is a gas-like miasma.

Stuck in a plastic tunnel slide on a children's play structure. Police at the top pulling a plunger stuck to my ass, causing short farting sounds to reverberate up the tunnel. My friends at the bottom feeding me hostess cakes. My face has swollen into a perfect seal in the tube

Whipping a nae nae in 2034. "We watched him whip. We watched him nae nae", they'll say.

Playing electro swing at the office Mandatory Fun event.

I just need 1 more follower to be in the double digits club

Pressing my forehead against a Wilson cloud chamber, and watching my last coherent thoughts leave smoke trails as they exit my head.

Google .com clicer gmaes
col an fun clicker gams

Buying a mechanical keyboard to enhance my Twitter On Desktop experience.

I would stand no chance throwing fists with a toad in a dinner jacket.

Thinking of spending the afternoon fishing from a fallen log on the riverbank behind my cottage, and shaking my head disapprovingly at the occasional woodland critter that paddles by on an oak leaf.

I turn down the volume on my migos music when pulling up beside an elderly person at a traffic light, because I'm a kind and gentle person, but they seldom return the favour when they're blasting Jewel 88.5

Nursing my occult face tattoos with refreshing cucumber slices.

The titanic lost a lot of potential insurence money when their dashcam footage sank to the bottom of the ocean.

Stumbling out of the passenger side door of the titanic and beating the shit out of the iceberg.

One time I pulled pork, before seeing the sign that said "push". Classic mistake.

Artificial Intelligence and Machine Learning are using up all of the math practice questions, leaving fewer each year for our third graders.

Having not but my own wit to bring to market.

Staking my families health and prosperity on the humble potato.

Accidentally placed my lawn chair on the sling of a trebuchet. It's a miracle I was getting a second serving of potato salad when the chair was launched. Could have ruined the barbecue for everybody.

Taking my trailer to the local hardware store to pick up a load of this society.

I swear I will post nothing but bangers for my three followers.

Had a strange dream last night where I made a twitter account.
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*Spitting morning coffee out* 👀

If I could bust out a good David Attenborough or Werner Herzog impression I'd be set for life.

I shoot sea creatures on sight.
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Nervously waving around my handgun, no trigger discipline, crying and yelling at a wiggling sea creature that washing up in the tide

My worst fear is disappearing somewhere in the Southern Indian Ocean.

Hate it when a gust of wind lifts my tunic

Taking my wheelbarrow of futuristic Canadian cash to exchange for a single tissue-paper-thin American bill with corona virus and pig shit on it.

Financing my hot couch.

cashing in my dollar-off coupon at the Financial Products store.

washing up unto the cybernetic shore, strands of neon kelp clinging to my ragged clothes, a crab pinching my ass cheek.