hey flapjack, here's how i say thank you

a while ago, i helped flapjack out of a financial jam that the poor bastard had gotten himself into. now, flapjack may be retarded, but he isn't without social graces. being the son of a shipping magnate, certain cultural niceties have been programmed into him: literally.

the revolution will not be emographed

one of life's pleasures is to piss away your money gambling in the hopes that you can get some more money, which you can then piss away gambling... this pleasure is only compounded if you are gambling with someone else's money... this is exactly what me, flappy, skip and mal-aka were doing at the robo-derby this weekend, when some unexpected events transpired... we got into a fight.

just shut the fuck up and kill yourself already

guess what galactopus boys and girls... are you ready to get a little history lesson today? exciting? well?  why? is it because i'm too hungover to remember what i did yesterday and this is the only thought that zips through my head? is it?
yes... it fucking is... stop scrolling so loudly...today we'll learn about why robots kill themselves!

splashing around the fluids of human kindness

my cup overflows with various fluids of human kindness. but sometimes, that cup gets tipped, or knocked, or jostled, or woken up in the middle of my fucking sleep cycle and it becomes time for me to take some of those fluids and start splashing them all over the place.