I was staying in a motel for an overnight trip. I’m a light sleeper and I got woken up by the sound of someone very quietly turning the door handle. I’d locked it, obviously, so they couldn’t open it. They figured that out and spent five minutes trying to wrench/kick it open before giving up and leaving.
So that was unsettling.
“I can’t believe that haircut was ever in style.”
I may be setting a low bar, but that’s far from the worst cartoon character you could form your existence around.
Raisins are nothing more than grape-mummies.
Human cremains are too acidic to make good growing soil.
Mulch the body, bury the mulch, plant a tree.
No matter how tough you think you are, when a six-year old hands you the invisible tea, you sip it.
I want a set of smart glasses with an AI function to replace billboards and other adverts in my vision with artworks. Without being a walking spy cam.
You seem to always be the worst version of yourself around them.
Same reason the US has the most prisons even though it’s aiming to be the freest country.
You still have an opportunity to impress me.
RAM and cornchip dust.
A sign like that would give a lot of confidence. I already bought three of these creepy victorian dolls whose eyes seem to follow you around the room because the seller assured me they’re not cursed in any way.
A candidate for dark matter!
I’d like to see your ‘science’ explain where the missing socks go in the dryer.
Come on now. One actress has forehead ridges. The other doesn’t. That’s a pretty big feature to miss.
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My first landlord gave me a plank to hold the door shut so he didn’t have to repair the lock and another plank to put over the hole in the bathroom floor that you could fall through to the foundations.
‘Safe’ living.
Zombies of the Stratosphere is a cheesy 1952 sci-fi movie starring a young Leonard Nimoy as a Martian henchman.
Not even the good Terminator. The future is a robot skeleton humping a parking meter.