I don’t think so poorly of alligators that I think they make that kind of distinction, gators being gators and all. No, I’ll let the gators decide if they want to eat fascism for breakfast and shit it out into the swamps; if they ignore it, then we can use the chippers. Nature finds a way to use its own worst, and I am not one to stand in nature’s way.

Tappy tap tap… tappy tap… tappy tappy tap… tap

Oh just great, another fokkin’ scouser. Just what we need.

Yes, this is war, and the disposal of your filth by Ukraine is her revenge on you. You are the awardee of the revenge, not its agent. The only decision for you to make is to prostrate yourself before Ukraine, beg ceaselessly for her mercy, and die by whatever means she determines to be appropriate.

This is war, Russia.

It’s called the Doorway effect.

Some other cats: glares at you in the dark, slowly gets up and walks over to you, baps you right in your stupid face, goes back to warm spot and falls asleep, leaving you wondering where the fuck you went wrong.

Their abandonment of empathy is perhaps the greatest reason why I revile them.

A mentality of fear, superiority, bravado, main character syndrome, otherism (a fear of altruism), superstition, religious indoctrination, paranoia, the lost cause…

even conservative immigrants are in the find out phase. Broken minds.

Be woke, or be broke. All my homies respect trans rights, and personal pronouns.

The fuckass conservatives have long since been brainwashed into fantasizing about being fascist, and the democratic leadership has done pretty much fuckall about it.

In no way, shape, or fucking form nor by any conceivable (or even inconceivable) stretch of even the fucking wildest of imaginations.

First: ~~Human~~ MAGAs.

Second: I’m more of a proponent for aqueous fluoroantimonic acid instead of bleach, but do recognize the effectiveness and cost savings provided by bleach.

This is the correct answer. The other comment about controlling weather or some shit is objectively wrong.

Good point, kid, and here’s another one: those toys you want me to buy you are a social construct. Playtime? Yep. Social construct. Shall I keep going? Video games are next.