Joeysmartass

i see no difference love is love 😘👍

I remember someone saying "mad scientists in fiction aren't scientists because there's never a control group"

I think if you've created an elixir that turns people into goat men you have sort have gone past the need for a control group. The control group is not going to placebo themselves into goat men. You can probably not run the control group, and safely assume that none of them would have turned into goat men. That said, having a control group for that would make the mad scientist seem extra crazy and be really really funny, especially if he was carefully testing them for goat like features from the dyed water they drank instead of the elixir

Wrapped sucks this year but shout-out The Get Up Kids

In the first mission of Slipsand Galaxy in Super Mario Galaxy 2, Mario or Luigi must slide down an extremely long slope. After they begin sliding, cylindrical Thwomp-like enemies called Rhomps appear from behind and attempt to squash them by rolling over them.

If the player is playing as Luigi and performs an extremely precise long jump just as Luigi is about to be rolled over by a Rhomp, Luigi will gain immense speed that will catapult him into the air as seen in the footage.

Unfortunately, there is no way for the player to slow down Luigi at that point, so that after flying far enough to exit the regular gameplay area, Luigi will leave the boundaries of the galaxy, and die.

Main Blog | Twitter | Patreon | Small Findings | Source: twitter.com user "purplesunsr"

in hysterics

You've heard Fergalicious You've heard Karkalious prepare yourself for the sequel nobody wanted Kankrilicous

I like Olive Garden as well.

My ideal date? You release me into the wild to hunt me for sport on your remote island BUT I’m not very good at hiding so you find me within 20 minutes. You hold the gun to my face but there is something so earnest in my eyes and hands that you cannot carry through. You pick me up and carry me back to your mansion. I am so polite and charming that you nurse me back to health. You grow to love and trust me despite the fact you’re holding me hostage after I fell of a charter vessel bound for Brazil. You buy me new clothes and have them shipped to the island. I kiss you good morning every day. You propose marriage. I accept. We skype in a priest and get married with the butler as our witness. That night I kill you and the butler. I redistribute your wealth. I live in the mansion on the abandoned island for the rest of my days. I study snail ecology. I never remarry. You were the love of my life but you were too dangerous and evil to live. I am buried next to you. The tides eventually wash our bodies away. Into the depths of the ocean, together.