Paradoxf0x - Here Lies My Brain Vomit

Look, I’m not saying for sure you’re a trans man, I’m just saying you obsessed a little too hard over Spider-Man as a kid

You know, having had my name legally changed forever ago, it’s fucking wild to open random accounts and suddenly see my old name, like

*Ahh oop Jump Scare*

Are… are these trees on fire or do I need to see someone about my pyromania?

All right mirror me, roll perception

Having problems finding new players?

Just hurl dice at the mirror until your reflection starts pulling its weight and stats up an Elf Ranger.

Procrastinating be like

Add a sense of mystery to your RPG by not doing any game planning until 25 seconds before the first session.

My sincerest apologies to everyone I told that my allergies got worse after taking testosterone, turns out I just needed to buy a nose hair trimmer, my bad lol

One more joke hate: You may claim to be a woman but biologically you are a featherless biped and thus a man.

Finally a good argument for why I'm actually a man

I’ve always been a bit of a kleptomaniac, but to this day I’ve never taken anything that made any logical sense. For example:

A wrench off the top of a fire hydrant

A coil of rope from behind a dumpster (it wasn’t dirty)

A big ass tree branch I carried for two miles that barely fit in my friend’s car; reaching from the driver’s seat through the little door thing and into the trunk

A broken piano from the side of the road that I dragged toward my house for half a mile before giving up (pianos are heavy)

Have you considered:

Modern furniture is a vengeful god that was never meant to be touched and all those who dare defy it will suffer eternal pain from the pits of hell

Real talk I hate modern interior design. I loathe it. I detest it in the personal vindictive way typically reserved for middle school bullies and extended family members who vote republican. Modern furniture design is grotesque, and not in the fun freaky way I respect. It is disgusting. It is morally indefensible. It has no back support, provides no comfort, no joy, no cushion for my tush or my spine. Minimalism does not exist for you, it in fact resents your very presence and the fact of your birth. These worthless sticks of chrome and pleather furniture are shaped solely to stroke the slimy egoes of fool designers & capitalists & hipster-cum-sports bars that charge $12 for an appetizer. Such morally defunct furnishings are for observation and corporate office waiting room decoration only, their raison d'etre is stubbed toes and back pain, they exist to punish you for having the needs of flesh, how dare you mistake them for friends