I think I can speak for everyone that this would be the ideal arrangement.

I love their recipe for no bake cookies, though! Just 12-15 minutes at 375°, and you’re good to go.

I noticed on paragraph 3 of this policy-mandated letter that literally no one but me will ever read–and it’s mind-boggling that even I read it–that you referred to “December 2022.”

As it is December 2023, and December 2023 is referred to multiple times elsewhere in the aforementioned letter, can you please clarify to which month this document refers?

Thank you in advance.

Grand Theft Auto 6: Everything We Know So Far

SEALEDforYOUR P R O T E C T I O N

I hate it when someone with these lights is in the passing lane behind you, and their lights reflect off your side mirror directly into your eyes. The worst is when they’re only going like 102% your speed, so they linger there unless you adjust your own speed to change their placement relative to you.

Prison. Immediately.

Two of the derailed cars were carrying molten sulfur, which caught fire after the cars were breached… it is believed that the fire is releasing sulfer dioxide

Sulfer dioxide is pretty nasty on a person’s throat and sinuses to breathe and can make fluid build up in the lungs, and it can have longer-term effects if the exposure is sustained.

A little molten sulfur never hurt anybody!

Add to this that the child is also made entirely of rubber and could easily withstand the train’s impact and experience no measurable hardship. However, the impact of Superman halting the train caused wreckage to fly all over the place and damage the surrounding infrastructure… which in this case is a metaphor for literal fucking infrastructure.

Neades ain’t got shit on me!

If they wanted me to read about their scam, they shouldn’t describe it over a stressful image of red wine and an open flame resting on a 1x6 on a beige couch.

I always buy my local grocery store parking lot hermit an energy drink. We both like purple Rip Its.

Grandma, you can’t limp-wrist a .45 like that. You’re gonna get a busted lip and you’re gonna stovepipe like a motherfucker.

I worked overnights for 7 years in my late teens and early 20s. Pictures of me from then aren’t Saddam 10 minutes out of a hole bad, but they’re still pretty bad.

The real pro gamer move is to aggressively shake the can, breaking the contents into small pieces. Then you can simply drink your Pringles.

I hope it happens during the morning rush hour so my spouse rescue mission kicks off to a sophomoric rock station morning show.

HONKHONKHONK AWOOGA glass smash & cat screech HERBIE AND DINGHOLE MORNING HOUR ON 93X explosion HOW THE FUCK DO SHOWS LIKE THIS STILL EXIST IN 2023? sick guitar riff

Why? Does your local PD have really good music taste or something?

You need to think ahead and make the playlist now, then! OP is trying to help us.

This isn’t a joke. And it’s not just MC.

From 2002-2008, I worked two full-time retail jobs. Overtime was common at both around the holidays. 2006 was insane for me. Like, the number of weekly hours I worked that year sound like I’m lying, and Thanksgiving to New Year’s was crazy in comparison to the rest of that crazy year.

Anyway: Christmas. Retail. I’d work 10+ hours at job 1, then go to job 2 and put on another 8-10 hours, then I’d crash for however long until the next shift. All the while it would be the same 20 or so Christmas songs over and over and over.

Between shifts, there’d still be Christmas music. Gas station? Christmas music. Restaurants? Christmas music. Bank? Christmas music.

Sometimes I’d sleep at my mom’s house between shifts because it was closer to one of my jobs. She’d be up, getting into the spirit by… listening to Christmas music. Even in my sleep, it haunted me.

I can still vividly remember Christmas shopping for my niece and nephew in 2006, standing in line at a Toys R Us holding this big stuffed animal. “Wonderful Chrismastime” by Paul McCartney was on. That fucking refrain penetrated my psyche like it never had before, and I literally began to shake.

“Simply. Having. A wonderful Christmastime.”

I thought I was going to cry. Or just start screaming. Or maybe grab someone and punch them until the police arrived. But I didn’t do any of those things.

I set the stuffed animal on the floor, I walked outside, and I sat in my car, staring blankly at nothing, and I chain smoked a full pack of cigarettes, lighting them off one another. And then I went back to work.

That was 17 years ago, and sometimes I still drop what I’m doing and leave a store if that, or one of a handful of other songs, come on.