unfortunately, the pinnacle of comedy will always be an its always sunny title card

i had to make a point last night

this post is about cytherea loveday although the child soldier grooming from god is also pretty wild. can someone get this girl a kitkat

unfortunately, the pinnacle of comedy will always be an its always sunny title card

i had to make a point last night

to those with enlightened minds, comedy, horror, and erotica are synonymous

In a world where being a robot is illegal. And people are racist towards robots. The robots are trying to have a heavyhanded civil rights movement. There's robot super crack that gives robots super powers. All robot racism comes from Senator Racism, who is running for president.

Our protagonists, model minority robot, and nice cop, must work together to ensure that Senator Racism is not elected. And guess what? They are lesbians.

Model Minority Robot is childhood best friends with Terrorist Robot, who is sympathetic but goes too far and is a villain now.

Nice Cop looks up to Older Cop, who is eventually revealed to be Very Racist, or corrupt. There is a scene where Nice Cop says racism is bad and walks away from something dramatically. Nothing fundamentally changes.

garfield gal

tamarin lady i drew for class 👑🐒

ayo

evil and fucked up when i want to have a conversation with my friend but we have NOTHING to discuss we ran out of topics. the well is dry

weve moved onto beginners philosophy

This “hanging out” you mentioned is intriguing. Have my people call your people

kids arranging a playdate

the sidekicks

not my toddler gaslighting me by insisting she can make her own lunch, and then using weaponized incompetence + white woman tears to manipulate me into doing everything for her when she "changed her mind". i work full time as a SAHP and can NOT handle this mental workload, we as a society need to have an open and honest discussion about lunch's role in the fathers' mental health crisis.

the locked tomb series is really like. maybe love doesn't conquer all. maybe love is not pure and good and holy. maybe love is not a white dove come to save you from yourself. maybe it won't fix you. maybe it'll make everything worse. maybe love is dirty and ugly and terrifying and awful. maybe it'll kill you. maybe it'll warp you into something unrecognizable. maybe love is a parasite and by the time you realize it's there, it's too late to tear it out of you, no matter how badly you might want to. maybe it's a cordiceps fungus, tangled up in your nerves, making you do things you'd never ordinarily do. maybe love is a dog with its jaw locked on your arm. maybe love is an angry ghost. maybe love is a brain hemorrhage, a seizure, two weeks of sleeplessness and cracking open your own tibia unanesthetized in a bathroom. maybe it's the ocean you'll drown in. maybe it's poison. maybe it's scary and filthy and difficult and bad for you.

so what now? are you going to stop? are you even going to try?

no. of course you aren't.