Why I wear scrub pants 90% of the time. Deep pockets, easy to clean, still look pretty good, cheap as fuck at most overstock stores.
I also use Fae/Faer alongside She/Her. Transfemme Genderfae and proud!
Why I wear scrub pants 90% of the time. Deep pockets, easy to clean, still look pretty good, cheap as fuck at most overstock stores.


The only downside is the required listening.


“Wreck Siege”
Did Ubisoft need help with that?
(I do not play Siege personally, just seems like most of what I see about it involves the aggressive skin/packs shit, and balance bitching.)


A species. Or, well, was.
Ever notice how he’s THE Grinch? There used to be many of them. They weren’t always so evil, the Grinches. A peaceful lot, really. Until those damned Whos came. The Grinches lived in harmony with nature, celebrated their own holidays built around the natural cycles, then came the warmongers.
At first, things were okay. The Whos took little from the world, just enough to build their homes, feed their families. Then came expansion. Those mountains were once dense with trees, felled to build Whoville. Roast Beast? Native hogs, hunted to near extinction. The Grinches? Enslaved. They rioted, and the children were taken. This did not stop them, so those bastards put each to the sword. The waters of Whoville ran red that night.
One child survived, and later escaped. He fled to the mountains, and devoted himself to making the Whos pay for what they had done.
It was not the magic of Christmas that made his heart grow three times that day. It was madness. He failed. He could not break them, as they had broken his people. They were too damned resilient, too damned established.
You ever realize the story ends there? With him “making peace”? Because that was not peace. That was suicide. The Whos of Whoville finished their extermination, and a noble species will never return…


I don’t really know what skills I’m going to need to learn yet, but I have a deer spine and coyote skull I want to figure out how to put together to make an art piece. I’ve been getting super inspired by the boom in the Oddities market, and I’ve seen a few people who’ve made bone staves. Just seems like a fun project, something I’ve never really tried before.
This is what we should all be aiming for. The Mr. Burns effect, where there’s so many different ailments present at once that nothing can actually do anything.
Go inject with dirty needles, drink stagnant water, lick the hands of every child you encounter. Only by filling yourself to the brim with germs can you achieve immortality.


You’re not misplacing the funds with LEGO, you’re preparing to become a Master Model Builder. Bringing your own stock will help you look better.
Just hope you can build a ball that can survive the drop test.
Man, like Lugia would do shit? Bitch ass not-bird would just be down in the ocean ignoring our shit.
The downside is they generally like that…
It’s why they keep asking their leaders for more of the same!
Make it 5, and only one or two are screaming. The rest are nipping at my fingers or nose, throwing paws in my mouth or on my eyes, or circling around my legs. All because we want breakfast, and breakfast time is “whenever moms alarm goes off, or we wake her up”.


I feel you there. We’re currently in a slow point, even our competitors are feeling it, but once we’re within the 5 day Christmas window? Say goodbye to lunches or being off on time. The bakery is about to be in riot mode, potentially quite literally.
Hey, he’s still doing his job! A big ol’ delivery of love and affection, sent directly to your neighbors cat.
That don’t look like hickory. Y’all know hickory makes the best post God ever gave us. It’s the holy wood. Need to beat the fear into the little ones? Hickory switch. Need a good post? Hickory post. Need a damn fine handle for your axe so you can put Uncle Jimbob, yer cousin twice removed where he belongs after layin’ hands on your woman? Hickory handle.
And what do you put Jimbob in when you’re done? Pine box. Bastard didn’t deserve hickory, or your momma, but he got her anyway.
"The beast will not truly die until all the limbs have been separated from the torso. The arms and legs must be taken to opposing points to be burnt, their ashes scattered to the four winds.
Cut the tongue from the demons mouth, and let it burn. Then the eyes, gouged carefully and salted. Then, upon the ash of the tongue, burn the head.
Only then may you remove the small thing the wretched creature called a heart, and once flayed and salted, may it to be given to the cleansing flame.
It is only then may you take the remaining husk upon hallowed ground, bathed in the blessed waters and smoke of the holy incense, that an iron stake may be driven through it, and may it burn. The iron must be let cool, and placed in a box to be buried itself, and forgotten to time."


But you’re already in the greatest hunnypot of all.
Begin cannibalizing. We’re all seasoned.


For me it was the musicians. Wasn’t the key thing that broke me out of the Christian Guilt Cycle, but hearing “the best musicians go to Hell” was a nice, extra wedge.
Like, really, you think I wanna miss the greatest show that could ever be to go play a fucking harp on some cloud? Fuck that.
And patterns! You can find seasonal, trademarked characters, whatever you’re looking for! All just comes down to brands. It’s wild how many variations you can find.