Unite and take over.

Mom’s spaghetti goes in your pockets, silly.

Something satisfying about touching grass and slapping the soil.

All right, I’ve tried to add some nuance and to make it clear I am not celebrating a man’s death (even if he was a murderer). I am calling on Trump’s supporters to understand their love for Trump means nothing to him, and that the only people who will receive any mercy at all are the ones Trump finds immediately useful.

Brought to you by Los Alamos Coffee.

You laugh, but I’m convinced my mattress is cursed.

UGH, Harris vs. Trump again? No thank you!

Here’s an archive.ph link, maybe that will work better: http://archive.today/2025.05.14-174804/https://www.binghamton.edu/news/story/5547/do-your-fingers-wrinkle-the-same-way-every-time-youre-in-the-water-too-long-new-research-says-yes

Exactly!

Ben “Yahtzee” Croshaw?!

My Uncle John would do that. He was my mother’s brother though…

“It’s just a matter of time before she discovers I’m only an emergency hologram…”

Well, as long as it’s near the bowling alley.

“Oh shit!”

“You might want to get a pot of coffee going, we’re going to be here all night.”

Way better than marshmallows!

“The Stanford marshmallow experiment was a study on delayed gratification in 1970 led by psychologist Walter Mischel, a professor at Stanford University.[1] In this study, a child was offered a choice between one small but immediate reward, or two small rewards if they waited for a period of time.”

The joke is that in this version of the experiment, the child isn’t being tested, the marshmallow is. And in this case, the marshmallow has decided to eat this one child instead of waiting until later, when it would have been allowed to eat two children.