Backpacks are also an option. It’s been my preference, also handy if I need to lug anything larger around for some reason.
Bonus points: Lotta space to put pins for decoration. Downside: Damn, enamel pins get expensive.
Backpacks are also an option. It’s been my preference, also handy if I need to lug anything larger around for some reason.
Bonus points: Lotta space to put pins for decoration. Downside: Damn, enamel pins get expensive.
Except for a few times.
Like the island full of zombies.
Or K.I.S.S dealing with interdimendional threats by riding on a giant guitar ship powered by rock, and that Gene Simmons may be a literal demon, not just an abhorrent human being.
Ain’t nothin’ in the RAW that states a sentient pile of dust can’t play basketball.
Their fault for being more edible than the rest. Get less tasty, maybe you’ll get a better name!
“Lifeless black eyes, like a dolls eyes”.
No one else built a Walking Eye.
Look around. Who else has a Walking Eye? That’s right, Walking Eye, everyone wants a piece.
Just avoid Australia, you’ll be fine.
They’ll look mean, and your cook can at least handle a couple methheads(maybe more, depends on when they last stepped out back to take a bump), but if you’re not there to cause problems, a lot of that demeanor can fall away.
Especially your owl crews. They gauge you upon entrance, you’re either fucked to the gills to start shit, or you’re that special kinda person who really just wanted some smothered, covered, and chunked hashbrowns at 1:45AM.
But he’s fully functional!
His crippling meatball addiction. She can never know he fell off the wagon. I’ve seen it before. You think it’s a safety food, the easy pick off the menu. Then you hear something messing with the trash cans late one night, go out to check, and there’s your neighbor, in their underwear, six cans deep into a Chef Boyardee overload.
"Kick out the methheads, we’re moving up to purely a crack den.
Next step? Opium parlor."
“Can’t expect me to train my replacement if I don’t remember how I did it!”
We need to normalize platonic vulnerability sessions. Just having a nice cuddle with friends, feeling open and okay.
Just the one turtle. Well, at least per world. I guess two, it you drop off the edge while they’re mating.
And there’s four elephants down there, too.
All except the bottom left.
Though I could be wrong, I don’t know his biological parents, maybe extraterrestrial life keep it in the family.
Do we mean spray it with some form of perfume, or turn it into a scent?
Cause I feel like the latter is somewhere in the background of the movie “Perfume”.
I prefer when my burger heals thyself.
Infinite burger.
This is what happens when you take things away. Used to be you’d just levitate yourself wherever you needed to go.
Then there’s Fallout. Who needs horses? Courier can carry themself and 400 pounds of Sunset Sarsaparilla up a damn near vertical cliff face if you do the side-to-side.
I wish I could read hieroglyphs to tell you! I just happen to love that particular tale, and any time someone posts Hieroglyph Loss, it’s where my brain goes.
That also takes dedicating a good chunk of time to practice.