I want this, but with an irrationally large Evil Dead esque cellar, for my hobbies.

To muddy things, asexual (Ace) may still be attracted to one, none, or more than the above listed subsets: they just might have no interest in sexual Congress with them.

Just make sure you don’t do a little crystal meth. It’ll lift you up until you break.

That fiction language Portuguese. /s

But where will the next 25 space x rockets crash?

I think it is some kind of winged puma with the bosom of a woman.

Why not both? Probably worshipped at the stake.

This is a still from Big Trouble In Little China, for the curious.

ICE recruited them first.

That was the one stuffed animal I chose during my single visit to Disney World in the 80s.

I’m retrospect, I wish I had gotten that gross little gremlin from the Captain Eo ride, but I think I was too flabbergasted to make any purchasing decisions when we passed through that gift shop.

Edit: The gross little critter was named ‘Hooter’.

I see you haven’t studied the Ancient Scrolls of Cat Chivalry…

: dumps out a pile of wadded up newsprint and proceeds to bat it all under the settei.:

I might be an outlier, here, but I went to school with an Odysseus that went by Odie back in the 90s. Guys full name was Odysseus -McIrishname- and he was pretty much the main character from the start.

The Nazis already have control of the moon and Antarctica, so that’s a no-go.

I think they meant allegedly.

In my experience the bookmark button is essentially the, ‘This is interesting and I’ll check this out later but never really will’ button.

Now, I have a thousand unsorted bookmarks that I am ashamed to look at and half of them are decade old dead links.

Everyone is different, though. A sane person could categorize different bookmarks into relevant sub folders and review/clean them out monthly.

I’m not that person.

Pretty much any Artist Loft in the 90s.

Bitch, you have enough room to have a softball tournament in your front room, quit complaining about how 'rough ’ the neighborhood is.

My mother’s house had one of these pleasant looking Razor Disposal Slots in a medicine cabinet. When we redid the bathroom there was just a pile of ancient rusty razor blades behind the wall.

Boomer era foresight. They probably dumped their used engine oil into holes in the back garden as well.

Oh, wow. The reveal might have happened after I’d aged out of the show.

Thanks for the correction!

I had zero clue that Snuffie was imaginary until well into adulthood.

Don’t have a cow, man