TouchMacaque

But if you don’t feed me how else will I gain dopamine points to redeem at the antidepression store?

I don’t have a car

My neighbour’s mechanic used to put notes in my car every time he’d work on it and it was pretty annoying since he isn’t even my mechanic, but recently he left me a note about how RFK Jr has plans to patent a new type of all natural smartphone called the worm phone. So thank God cities are doing this for the birds, we’re going to need them if we’re ever going to destroy the worms.

Is my age showing or am I just too young to be on the Internet

They would probably stop shooting themselves if their Bananadine and Jenkem habits didn’t cost them like a million bucks an hour, thanks liberals

Hell there’s even a market for market based smut where craft markets are having anal sex with farmers markets while simultaneously having illicit affairs with stock markets. Everyone needs a little lovin’.

He’s upset because everyone made the wrong assumption, it’s actually a story about a sentient staff that gets revenge for being used as a sounding rod for 30 years.

This is my aunt’s daughter’s cousin(my sister) with mango black bean paste on cinnamon raisin bagels. She’s been eating it every day for every meal since she became autistic at age 42. I told her it’s not healthy but she tells me to fuck off every time. We had her over for Christmas dinner and I stuffed the turkey full of bagels hoping she would actually eat but she just screamed at me that I was an inconsiderate dumb man. I’m not even a man so I don’t understand, does she know something I don’t? She was born 9 years before me so maybe she knows all of our family’s secrets and that’s why she only eats mango black bean paste bagels.

I’ve made it my life’s work to investigate this but I haven’t gotten anywhere, if anyone can help me discover the truth I’ll give you six cents and a pocket full of lint as compensation.

My local brothel serves eggs bonerdicked for breakfast on Sundays before church and I’ve been requesting corn for months now but they never put it on the menu, it’s distressing

I bet he didn’t even use Margaret Thatcher’s Boner Smasher.

My Canadian neighbour’s uncle patented a new fleshlight model the other day called the “Margaret Thatcher’s Boner Smasher”. It’s made of 100% iron and will wreck your junk but everyone seems to love it for some reason. I haven’t tried it yet but I’ll probably borrow my great grandpa’s in a few weeks when he’s done with it. Those crazy Canucks are always patenting strange products, like cigarette toast crunch and maple semengarettes (man those Canadians sure love cigarettes). If I hadn’t been born there I’d love to go visit someday.

Holy shit, Buckwheat Billy is that really you?!

This is me drowning in cum numbers at my accounting job in Nebraska back in 1937. My Norwegian boss used to call me tadpole, in not sure why but I think it had to do with the fact that I’m French and was new to the job so tadpole was a play on the whole “French frog” thing. Anyway I quit my job because he kept wanting me to go out and put signs up that said “fisted old horse for sale” because in his native language of Guarani the word “fisted” means happy. So he thought he was putting up signs for a happy old horse for sale but everyone who called about the sign was a real weirdo. I told him his mistake and he hit me with the belt from a belt sander and told me he was my dad. I was pretty confused at first because I’ve known my dad my entire life and he would never hit me with a belt of any kind, a bike chain sure but not a belt, belts are for pants and sanders. And not the Bernie or Colonel kind either, more like the old obsolete tool used to make surfaces smooth back before jagged surfaces became the hip new thing. So I was drowning in cum numbers and couldn’t finish all my work in time to save the horse, it was sold to an old woman named Gillie and she turned it into a fibreglass statue for her sister in law’s ex husband who had too many UTIs to ride a real live horse. I wonder what he’s up to these days.

My step zaida told me that for Ramadan this year she’s getting me a new phone so I can comment on things and get free dopamine from all the likes I get but after 1 hour all I got was this stupid t shirt that says “I’ve got Parkinson’s and I’m not afraid to show it”. I fucking hate it so I shredded it and gave it to my pet warbler named Parkinson to use in his nest but even he didn’t want it. Now I’m stuck with some shitty shredded t shirt covered in bird shit and I don’t know what to do anymore, I think I’ll go back to college for accounting and become a taxidermist so I call stuff my damn bird full of shredded t shirts. Yeah, that sounds good.

Ads are the best part of life, I can’t wait until I can get a chip installed into my brain so I can get the ultimate targeted ads.

My uncle’s right wing Facebook friend told him a story about how he was left wing but then they changed what left wing was and now his pet bird has no wings because he tore them off. Needless to say he votes Republican because he likes harming small animals

Poor Mr drain, only ever gets the spaghetti water but never gets spaghetti.

My local cigarette sensei’s aunt was just telling me this morning about how she grew pubes on her tits in her 2nd year of college and all the guys would try to date her just to get a glimpse but she wasn’t into them, all she wanted was to continue her biology studies so she could learn how to grow pubes on her teeth too so that they became self brushing. She eventually settled down with a biological person by the name of Patrick but he just couldn’t stand when he would try to brush her teeth while she slept and the tooth pubes would get tangled all into the bristles of the tooth brush. That was his inspiration for the screenplay for the movie tangled by Disney. The studio forced him to switch things around to make it rated G though so he’s still bitter about that.

I met this guy once and he had a snowblower full of cum it was actually pretty impressive, I asked him how he got such cum covered sidewalks and he told me he was Hugh Hefner’s squire.

My smoking partner once told me he got some illegal treats from a eugenicist named Paul back when he was just a young boy. I asked him what they were but he just kept giving me these ridiculous cryptic answers like “fibreglass cotton balls” and “sporadic fish crystals”. One day I had enough so I took his smokes away and smoked them all by myself. A message appeared in the smoke that finally explained the secrets of Paul the eugenicist, his secrets were too dark that even I can’t repeat them. So if you ask me what they are I’m sorry but fibreglass cotton balls give me cuts all over my rectum when I shove them in my ass.