sept 24 in idea barrages

Someone must be a checkers grand-master.

Ah yeah, the founding of a vanity political party, the desperate act of a narcissist running out of ways to glom the spotlight.

Maybe the lyrics of “Frosty The Snowman” are actually a metaphor and it was really about the songwriter lamenting the arrest of his favourite cocaine dealer, who brought so much joy into his life and whom he hopes will be back again one day.

Billionaires, if you won’t use your cash to help people, at least do something INTERESTING with your bloodmoney, instead of pretending to be astronauts. Like, pay Will Smith to do jaunty end-credits raps for his dramatic films like THE PURSUIT OF HAPPYNESS or SEVEN POUNDS, maybe.

If the druid takes an animal form, not for battle advantage but because they’re into furry sex stuff, does that make her or him a druWuid?

“YEAH, I WORK REMOTE!” (proceeds to change the television channel with the clicker)

A “You Can’t Do That On Television” themed home decor store called BED BARTH AND BEYOND.

Y’all gonna make me hide my lunch, Yo-gi BEAR, Yo-gi BEAR, y’all gonna make me leave this park, Yo-gi BEAR, Yo-gi BEAR