mthor

Are you sure that this isn't something court-mandated for your friend?

I wish I could juggle.

It's fucking snowing.

Was this a case of your right hand not knowing what your left hand was doing?

It's that stuff somebody always brings to a church supper or potluck lunch, cottage cheese and either canned mandarins or crushed pineapple mixed up with either orange or lime jello powder to a uniform color. I think that there might be cool whip in it, too, and sometimes maraschino cherries. I don't know what it's called, but it's noxious. Not ambrosia - that involves marshmallows and no cottage cheese.

Somehow, my stepmother still gets one every year.

Phone books

Heartache Tonight?

What? No "Hotel California"?

Oh. You mean she prefers guys who have career plans and/or are physically fit to guys who are cultivating cirrhosis as a lifestyle?

Your friend has no friends. He does, however, have Rebecca.

That awful thing made with cottage cheese, jello, and canned fruit.

I always feel badly for her, because he only visits us, but he lives with her. We should start a GoFundMe for Zeni's mom to start eviction proceedings.

"May I please speak to your manager?"

Hasn't his mother suffered enough?

No. As long as there are sandwiches, there will be mayo.

Etiquette.

Years of therapy and heavy doses of psychotropics might help, but I rather doubt it. Cryogenics might be the way to go; if your friend is frozen for a few hundred years, they may be able to help him when he's thawed. Or not, but at least then he wouldn't be wasting valuable oxygen in the mean time.

I'm pretty sure it's not mine.

If your boogers look like Nerds or Fruity Pebbles, you've got a problem.

Can't be that hard, and if it is, he can always go back to his old account.

Don't tell him that. Now he's going to beg for admin status.

NO!

I'm not sure, but I think it may be post-related. 500 earns you the key to the dumpster; maybe you get permission to change your rank then, too.