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Fuck You, Sunset
When Bob Ross painted you, he always put the trees in front of you. Don't wonder why.
Humor writing published daily. Featured: Best of Year | Editors’ Picks | People’s Favorites | Satire | Guides | Observations | Stories
When Bob Ross painted you, he always put the trees in front of you. Don't wonder why.
You still haven’t confirmed, but you also haven’t canceled. Just a heads up, the uncertainty is kind of messing with some people here.
Our new, improved algorithm now reports that you are: 99.9% not of the human genome <1% Pacific Islander
I murdered your wife, and you got pretty mad at me for doing that. We’ll call that one a tie. We’re both people!
Are you fucking with me? Because if you are, I swear to God that, with ZERO hesitation, I will absolutely let you do that.
I tell stories of humanity. Some about a guy getting drunk in the woods. Others about two guys getting drunk in the woods.
The Desert Escape: Run into the desert. There, you’ll meet a snake. Name the snake. Name him Benjamin. Benjamin will bite you, but don’t cry out.
Goodbye to cooling off with a quick dip, wading too far out, getting swept to sea, and awaking on a pirate ship Bone Rattler.
Now I’m halfway to the table, and this bowl is burning my fucking hands off.
Setting up this stand in my backyard all those days ago, I never imagined the places we would go; we are now in the front yard.
Over our long history, we’ve made countless non-changes to our product, from refusing to add any flavor to churning out the same muddy texture.
Last I checked, relaxing in swamps was not against the HOA bylaws.