I also thought it was about a child waiting for their dad to come home. Not sure if it’s a soldier or some other person that’s working on the road or overseas or what. But yours is an excellent interpretation, IMO.

…the dirt whispered, ‘Child, I’m coming home.’

Love that band. Love that album.

I don’t remember the exact wording, but basically to be eligible to be VP one must meet the eligibility requirements for being President. So he’s not eligible to be VP either.

But I recall someone claiming that no such eligibility requirement exists for Speaker of the House, who is in the succession line after the VP.

Some of those guys in The Godfather already had big titties.

“I’m going to climb Mount Everest.”

-“That’s a great goal! I support that.”

“Then get your fucking climbing gear, you little bitch. Or are you a lying hypocrite?”

Yeah, this is definitely a rational line of thought.

Sped up like this, it looks like he’s sneezing. He’s even doing that thing where he puts his hand up in the air as he feels it coming on, like everyone’s dad does.

There are real? This was a plot point on The Great North and I thought it was something they made up, like cold weather and Alanis Morrisette.

I found it using my phone’s browser and I can’t remember how different the mobile page and desktop page are, so YMMV, but:

I clicked my name and a menu popped up. On that menu under “Your Account” I clicked “See all options” and it took me to a page that had “Hello” in the upper left, and beneath that a link that said “About You”, which took me to the page with that stuff.

I was sort of unimpressed with mine. It was all variations of:

-Likely lives in <city where I have every order shipped>

-Likely owns <thing I buy accessories for>

And then for some reason it thinks I own a Dodge Ram. I have four vehicles saved to my account. None of them are a Dodge Ram.

Found the Blorgon.

Well obviously no, they’re all still alive. Only in death do coworkers here at Project Mayhem, LLC have a name.

I assumed AI would make typos like that if it were trained on the prose of millions of idiots who also make typos like that.

I’m not sure what company Whr Mul works for, but his is certainly the most legible.

To be fair, this would not be the first marriage that I’ve witnessed not surviving giant fake titties.

His name was Robert Paulson.

(Fuck me, why do I remember bitch-tits Bob’s proper name after 27 years but I forget my coworkers’ names sometimes?)

So many bad takes in this thread. Here’s mine:

You might not get the chance. I learned about virginity from the foul mouthed children on my school bus years before any adult thought it was time for proper sex education.

Maybe a sea monster ate her ice cream.

Some of y’all never had Helper and it shows.

“Want to eat at my house? My mom’s making Helper.”

“You mean like Hamburger Helper?”

“Yeah but without the hamburger.”

Being too poor to afford hamburger is not exactly a new condition.

Well, one could argue that not doing things that push the boundaries of your comfort zone is why echo chambers exist, whereas meeting people you don’t know and interacting with them is how you make new friends and potentially grow as a person.

I’m not saying you’re wrong for not wanting to do that, or even that you should want to do that, but that would be the point of it.

And for the record, parties that happen in movies aren’t really representative of what actual parties were commonly like, at least in my experience. The most wrecked that I’ve ever seen a house get after a party was needing to clean or pick up some trash. The way you keep the weight off of your conscience is to help the host clean up the next day, like a decent human being.

(I can’t afford a lawn, but get off of my dirt lot!)