I love useless nuggets of knowledge.
You know who else loves them? Curmudgeonly cats. (That’s right. We don’t have to use the names or fonts they do. We’re adults! We do what we want!)
So instead of hearing my musings about a page of bright ideas I’ve stumbled across, let’s see the infamously cross philosofurry’s critique on these questionably random reality challenge hacks.
Great.
This will help me when I finally give up on life altogether and resort to ridiculous pastimes.
Like Frisbee throwing.
Ten minutes?
Do you know how many times I could die and be reborn in ten minutes?
Time to find the receipt and reincarnate them soles, girl.
“New and improved Mott’s! Now with Ketamine!”
Little context missing here.
Like how, for instance.
Until I hear otherwise, I’ll have to assume the solution is: “impale your ocular orifice with said chopstick until the papercut wound smarts significantly less than your freshly gouged sight organ.”
Yes. I’m led to believe they’re not particularly selective there.
Indeed. And then never acquire a bruise again from anything for the rest of your life. Because not even inanimate objects will want to be in proximity to your pungent ass.
Oh, wait. My mistake.
You’ve written “and bruise”.
So if I soak a cottonball and punch my shins, the cotton ball will… disappear? Heh. Sounds like a stupid magic trick.
But I’d sooner do that than submerge in stink juice.
I’m going to extrapolate here, assume “gasses” in a portmanteau of “giant” and “asses”, and then further assume that if I take a flame to my fanny, any dents will disappear.
So long, squats!
#spellcheckdarling
Fantastic.
Now it just feels like I took cocaine and heroin simultaneously.
Too bad I didn’t. It’d have been the only multitasking I did all day.
And then when they don’t, it definitely means you should set them free, because the zookeepers are obviously abusing them.
Why else would these logical creatures avoid an official uniform?
Start with the lions.
But then I can’t crouch near the outlet like a constipated incubus and stalk James Franco on Twitter in between sleazy Snapchat exchanges with strangers.
And then when you’ve burnt the skin and it only doesn’t itch because you’re wrapped in the agony of an eleventy degree burn, just flip the hot spoon over.
Make use of that viscous tar on the concave side!
Far surpasses my five point plan of “Wash with eyedrops”
Oh, I’m sorry. That’s not a five point plan. That’ a point five second plan.
But compared to a voluntary stationary swirly, yeah, it clearly pales.
Or you could expedite things and just punch the little brat who pressed them in the first place. If his mom sees, she might push the emergency button so we all can depart this oscillating box. If she doesn’t, well, at least he won’t do it again to other people.
#payitforward
Absolutely. I always think rationally as a stampede of metal and rubber is barreling at me and my life’s flashing before my eyes which I’ve just gouged with chopsticks and submerged in a dog’s dish.
In all seriousness, though, it’s about two degrees outside yet a mutant mosquito did just fly in and bite me as I wrote this. Nothing a little hot metal can’t cure, according to the internet gods. I look forward to horrified neighbors walking by and seeing me light up a spoon.
Wait. Can’t we just burn the venomous demon who did this to me instead?