Dinocerosrex - Dinoceros

recycling son

do you ever feel like a plastic gbag

i get into a horrific car accident while carrying a crock pot full of meatballs in the passenger seat. at the hospital, the surgeons cannot sort out which chunks of meat are me and which are not, so I end up with several meatballs sewn into my guts. despite this I make a full recovery, and they elect not to remove the meatballs because quote 'they seem comfy in there.' i go on the talk show circuit and become moderately famous as The Meatballs Woman. when i die i am buried under a gravestone with meatballs carved on it. in the year 2438, a grad student from what is now Cambodia who is studying the late pre-collapse American Empire writes her thesis on this, concluding that I probably never existed and was a conflation of several real stories and urban legends. years later, a pop-history book wildly misinterprets this and several other things, arguing for the existence of a historic American religious pantheon including figures like The Meatballs Woman, Florida Man, Emperor Norton, etc. this book sells bizarrely well and inspires a new neo-pagan movement, which in turn leads to a weird shipping community, resulting in a small but vibrant scene of ABO fics featuring me and MrBeast (who in this context has been interpreted as a god of excess and trickery)

this chilling scenario is only one of the multiple reasons I am going to attempt to not crash my car today

nervous breakthrough

the rammies. the repurcussy

think i’m gonna call it off,

even if i drink a duff,

i just wanna love someone who calls me ‘homie’

you can have an eldest son named bart,

drink a couple duffs cause you’re homer simpson

you can say that lisa’s very smart

drink another duff cause you’re homer simpson

good luck bart

well good luck bart

you have to stop at moe’s cause you’re homer simpson

good luck bart

well good luck bart

you have a wife called marge cause you’re homer simpson

they need to make a pocket dimension you can hide in where time doesn't pass and everything is soft

fingers in his ass sunday