Not to be mean but there's time where my mind randomly goes: "man thank god I'm not an orphan" or "thank god I'm not a paraplegic" as if somehow I've been a holocaust victim in my past life and my soul's reflexively being grateful
ADHD is a serious issue in not just the country, but the world. to fix this unjust treatment for these victims, i've decided to open establishments across the world to help them. they will be dubbed Concentration Camps.
there's a small possibility that our cock/bung holes are actually worm holes connecting to our oesophagus. what we eat/drink don't actually go into our stomach, but transfered to a dimension hopping, omniscent parasite species. to keep up the illusion of digestion, they transfer their wastes into our system via dimension hopping and, to keep the food source alive, lets us keep some of the nutrients.
i inhibit an unquestionable amount of violence inside me so much so that it manifests to my daily activities i don't just shower i purge my body of impurities. sometimes i wonder if my limbs are the parasites that contribute to my downfall
I always hated the "it's fiction they can do anything" arguement for fantasy or frankly, any story out there
It essentially boils down as to WHY a story is shit. If characters can do ANYTHING, then there's no stake, and if there's no stake, there's no story. If your character can just "ANYTHING" their way out of a problem, then what's the point of reading about it?
Gaming journalism is the one job where you're defended if you're bad at it. Your job is to play the game and review it. If you're bad at the game and/or need cheats to beat it, you're bad at your job. Simple as.
I don't want to hear from a chef who can only cook a fucking omlette. I can do that. I want to hear from a chef who can make gourmet shit.
nipples are inherently funny if you think about it without sexual connotations. it's just a pair of giant pimples sitting on som fun bags. like, imagine if you had nipples on your ballsacks, and they lactate semen.