Wish you’d told me that about an hour ago. What a senseless tragedy now.

It seems like a two man job. If you just cut the pole willy-nilly, it could come down wrong and fuck you up.

Also the biggest risk seems like your approach, in light of every doorbell being a camera anymore, other Flock cameras, etc…

“I know her!”

I’ve been working my way through it via YouTube Shorts. It honestly doesn’t feel as epic as everyone says, to me.

CUT MY LIFE INTO PIECES.

THIS IS MY LAST RESORT.

I bet that’d feel better than a grapefruit.

“What a well-mannered child. We really raised him right!”

I had an uncle, Dr. John Potoooooooo who went to MIT who is a top professor. A genius. It’s in my blood. I’m smart. Great marks. Like really smart.

That means I have much better blood.

🤮

We don’t deserve this.

Was this a longitudinal stinkfist?

Or a lateralus?

🤕 (Pulled a muscle stretching…)

It’s not a “gas station hot dog.” Say its name, bitch. It’s called a Big Bite. With free “chili” and nacho “cheese” straight from the whirring mechanical udder. And you’re not having a Big Bite without a Big Gulp…

Palm 'er!? I barely know her!

Who are you to wave your macaroni at me?

The old man at the door is asking for a receipt.

RUN!!!

When my hog bites.

When my pee stings.

When I’m feeling saaaad.

Can’t? Or "shouldn’t?"

I’ve decided to take on Saruman with an even bigger orc army. Also, my big eyeball has a corrective lens.

Seriously, how do we let them know we know and it’s okay? Holy shit.

They just take too long, but I like edibles.