*from inside a coffin WELL YOU SAID SLIDE INTO SOMETHING MORE COMFORTABLE
Mass Dude
@massdude.bsky.social
Dunkin enthusiast and joke Twitter refugee My ramblings: https://bsky.app/profile/did:plc:4t4lpf5gu33hr2nzmatz5sxu/feed/aaaalwyh7fwzo
I love Michael Caine in the prestige where he’s all like “blah blah blah blah oi love you love magic dontcha and chiminey sweep churrah” and all that no I’ve not seen it
Then one day you wake up and you’re like, you know what? I totally respect weeds
*peeks around* “Still a shitshow out there? I see.” *goes back into hiding
Would pay any amount of money to see the Pope take off his hat, say “it’s Popeing time” and start throwing hands with Trump.
The rule on St. Patrick’s Day is if you’re not Irish, you have to drink as many beers as the times you’ve claimed you’re Irish.
The best part of a joke, in my opinion, is the "but did you get it?" part.
"I'm a little bit angry today." So, you're ...? "Yes. I am Ire-ish."
I miss the simpler times when “what 40 oz malt liquor can I afford and not choke to death drinking” was my major concern.
ask not for whom the chala mets, it mets for timo thee
“Mines, mines everywhere there’s mines…” - Signs “Hormuz Remix”
Bag of mini eggs and a vitamin tablet, breakfast of champions.
Markwayne Mullin sounds like a made-up serial killer name in a bad crime show.
“Forever 21” but it’s my defense mechanism when any pop culture reference makes me feel ancient.
Frost heaves are NOT a description of Robert Frost on a bender and I’m disappointed.
My OnlyFans is just grainy footage of me cataloguing my collection of toenail clippings in order of size and age.
Thrown out of Build-a-Bear again for, "playing God and"...hold on, let me read the report, "manufacturing abominations."
What if Sex and the City was Terry Bradshaw instead of Carrie Bradshaw
The state of the union? Fucked. There, now you don’t have to watch the damned thing.
Whenever someone blocks me, I block them back harder and I think it’s funny that they don’t even realize I’m winning.
SSRIs are currently the pack mules of our society
aioli is the sound of pain the garlic makes when you crush their little souls into pulp
I named my puppy Kurt Cobain. He knows sit, shake, roll over, and come as you are