I want to be cremated as it is my last hope for a smoking hot body.
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had a fucking hilarious dream that tumblr replaced the "block" function with the far funnier "glock" function, which did the exact same thing except whenever anyone blocked you a random bullet hole, like a png of a bullet hole, would appear on your blog. discourse blogs were unreadable bc you'd go to the page and the sheer amount of bullet hole pngs stacked over the blogs obscured everything. I woke myself up laughing
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but seriously i do find it so funny that ford was like OH GOD MY PRECIOUS REPUTATION after bill possessed him around other people for all of one night
and then he gets back to this dimension after thirty years and this is now the photo the press associates with his name
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Ladybug and Chat Noir hosting a podcast where they're going to interview Adrien Agreste and so Adrien has to enlist Félix to pretend to be him and Félix gets to just. Make fun of Adrien to his face and to a national audience. Chat Noir keeps arguing with Félix’s Adrien about his own opinions so the next day all the news is about how much everyone thinks Chat Noir hates Adrien Agreste
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are you familiar with Articuno, the legendary Pokémon that’s a combination Ice-type and Flying-type? well, this is the end of the pointy crest thing at the top of its head.
and that’s just the tip of the ice bird…
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Praise the Absolute
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I read somewhere that he was supposed to be a traitor. The idea of Zevlor guarding Moonrise Towers haunted me for so long I had to give up
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What did the grape say when it got crushed? Nothing, it just let out a little wine.
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Clone’s Best Friend
“Cute dog!” the girl says. “What breed is he?”
“Uh,” blinks Kon. "Are you asking what breed Superdog is?"
“Uh, duh?”
Well. She’ll have to forgive him his stunned expression, ‘cause he doesn’t usually run into other dog walkers on this path. This is, of course, because “path” is used in the loosest sense, the one that connotates direction and not tread ground, and the “walk” bit is entirely inapplicable, with all of them currently flying one thousand feet above sea level.
“Cujo’s a rescue,” she continues, swinging her feet in the sky, “so we don’t know for sure, but my sister thinks part husky, part shar pei. Half-and-half, like me!”
Cujo is also, apparently, half green and half glowing. He wiggles happily in a play-bow. It’s very cute, except for the way he’s the size of a small house.
Krypto’s tough, though. He barks and chases his new friend through cloud cover. Gamely, Cujo flees. They frolic in the chilly condensation, occasionally poking a head out before diving back in, like a fox in a snowdrift.
Neither of them see anything surprising about this. It’s all good fun. And, well. Krypto’s always been a good judge of character.
Kon turns back to the girl and gives her a megawatt smile.
“He’s Kryptonian. Like me. But he looks like a white lab!”
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wilson pointlessly living in a hotel room for like half the show is a metaphor for him always suppressing his desires for a….. HOUSE…. of his own [drum sting]
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DM: Hey, Cleric, who’s your god again?
Cleric: Shamash
Monk: Don’t forget to Shamash that like button and subscribe
Cleric: I’m going to kill you
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