downright cumming

Stowing a jumbuck in your tucker bag is lowkey goated when being a jolly swagman is the vibe.

The Romanian supermarket near my house has changed its name to Dracula’s Castle. This is because the legendary count aquired his aristocratic status by separately selling multipack cans of KA Fruit Punch.

If I was a closer in the Mets, my walkout music would be the unabridged audiobook of The Hobbit. The opposing team would be so moved by Thorin Oakenshield’s tragic desire for the arkenstone that it would put the match in perspective, and exorcise their vainglorious preoccupation with glory.

Our sugar is yours, friend.

Ensuring my brain parasite remains famished by thinking thoughts like “the mouth is the udder of the mind”.

ur mum is at her lowest ebb 😂😂😂

Ringfencing my fortune by parlaying it all into a Kalshi bet that I’ll experience a life-changing sexual encounter with the Lindt master chocolatier before Michaelmas

random thought ive had for weeks: a version of “Virtua Cop” where Buffalo Springfield gently warns you when bad guys appear

“Working blue” at my admin job today.

👍

Ousted from my role as personality hire for the John Birch Society for becoming embroiled in a hot-micing incident in which I described Paul Bunyan’s nutsack as “umpteen fathoms broad” and “winsomely slurpable”.

Bigprick at Hanging Cock

In My Dinner With Andre neither of the two men ever get up to go piss. One must therefore contextualize their discourse as that of two men simply leaden with dinner piss.

Just saw a King’s Trust advert about youth employability resources that used Atmosphere by Joy Division. Confirmed what I always suspected - that “Your confision, my illusion / worn like a mask of self-hate / confronts and then dies” is about subsidised skill-sharing workshops for people aged 11-30.

I'm a professional dancer that's been training for years to perform the routine that famously killed my father, not knowing he was a mob informant who faked his death and has been watching me proudly from the shadows in disguise as the mysterious "Old Tom of the Streets", upon whom I spit every day.

“I’m a top” 🚫
“I’m a bottom” 🚫
I’m Willy Load-man in Twink Death of a Salesman ✅

16ish year old on the bus, talking about Lewes prison: “It ain’t what it used to be. When my granddad was a guard, the prisoners used to call you sir and treat you with respect. Ain’t like that now”. Today’s teens mourn the once-ubiquitous figure of The Gentleman Prisoner.

a person with a sword is entering ye bar. other people with weapons stand outside the entrance. there are people sitting at tables, a barrel behind a bar and a wall and door behind. text: you enter a smoke filled common room filled with the scum of society.

wizard's crown, screenshot, apple II (1986) www.mobygames.com/game/1011/wi...

When people jerk me off, I kill them!

If I learned in advance which side of the road I’ll be on when I die, I’d simply live the remainder of my life on that side of the road, so as to save time otherwise squandered on unnecessary trips back and forth across said road.

Aussie cyberpunk book called Nauuuurrrmancer.

Can’t believe the National Lampoon Tolkien parody was called Bored of the Rings when “The Sillymarillion” was right there.

A-Cup Dead Man: A Tits Out Mystery

Friend of mine recently named her boat Mrs. Chippy, after the ship’s cat from the Shackleton expedition. It’s a good thing she didn’t choose the cat from the 1910-13 Scott expedition, whose name was just the N-word.

(Not really) crazy that one of these compilations genuinely has more innate spiritual value than every piece of data produced by generative AI, combined.

They should build a Queue Museum, where intricate sets and a cast of historical reenacters allow you to visit and join famous queues from throughout history.