And I’m SEA! Sea brawlin’.

Maybe some durian and Surströmming, too.

It’s the second most dangerous game. Behold:

Figglebottom looks like he’s the alpha and the omega male. Both the primal and the ultimate paragon of masculinity. An example of the ephemeral singularity and the eternal ubiquity, the foundation and the zenith.

The reactionary ombudsman of the techno-feudalist eldrich horrors.

Objection, it’s not a spork (it also has a knife edge), but assuming this gets overruled, I affirm my threat to use the unholy, very clearly haunted, and quite possibly toxic, number 3 spoon to threaten OP for the right to use any normal spoon.

Violence it is then:

Then we have an accord. IRL, I carry a cutlery set among the various other accoutrements in my bag, so we should be good.

3 and use it to threaten OP into letting me use a normal spoon again.

Bap ba da, bap ba da, bap ba da, bap ba da, baaaaaaaaa.

[Ringtone]

Is it Thumb Wars?

By riding the bus with a reckless disregard for situational awareness apparently.

I felt like all of my various appendages retracted into my body all at once.

This is the lesson that I have learned today and in the hardest of ways.

You’ve missed your calling as an author of horror novels.

That’s somehow worse than a carpeted bathroom.

The having my eyeballs directly coughed on in the middle of listening to a rambling narrative is probably what startled me most about kids, but I do love all the kids in my family regardless.

That’s a hard choice, but I think sticky is less concerning based on my limited understanding of the nature of various body fluids.

I don’t have much to add, aside from the fact that I love this post. I’m just here for my obligatory check in.

It’s about one burger and four sliders.