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Chaos0f7ife

Chaos0f7ife@lemmy.world
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I’ve never actually heard anyone call it X before, unless they were making a joke about the whole thing. Everybody I know still calls it Twitter. Calling it X is just embarrassing.

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Boxes hold fruit. Including peaches. But in terms of fruit, I’ve never heard a pussy being called anything but a peach. Boobs are called melons but that’s about it in terms of fruit analogies.

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If they own a house, make at least 100k a year and can support their family comfortably, I would consider that wealthy. My father is in this bracket and he goes on vacations over seas, owns 3 relatively expensive vehicles, and still saves enough for retirement.

You don’t need a million dollars to live a rich, fulfilling life.

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Probably about two or three years before I was born. I was a 90s baby and lived through one of the best decades in human history in terms of childhood entertainment. Nick Toons, Razor scooters, sock’em Boppers, and Pokemon just to name a few. Also cartoons themselves were the best that television had to offer. Hey Arnold, Rugrats, and Dragon Ball Z, just to name a few. If you were a kid in the 90s, you were in your PJs, eating cereal and watching Saturday Morning Cartoons, while your Holographic Charizard sat in your sock drawer so nobody was knew where it was. And your Nintendo 64 with the Legend of Zelda Ocarina of Time was still warm because you threw a tantrum when you couldn’t beat the Water Temple. After Cartoons, you got your clothes on and went outside to play baseball with the boys while ignoring the girls because they have cooties and you don’t want to contract cooties, while secretly having a crush on one of them.

At the end of the day, your parents called you in for dinner because it was getting dark out and, with mud and grass stains littering your shirt, you laugh with all your friends, knowing that, after a dinner of spaghetti and meatballs, you where going back to your room to play on your N64 again untill 2 in the morning when your parents are finally fed up with the noise and tell you to go to bed.

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If you can’t see the milk, too little. If the bowl can possibly overflow while you’re eating, too much. Can’t give an exact ratio, but that’s the line I live on.

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Depends on the size of the cat. I bet I could fit on a lion. But I’d probably be eaten by said lion.

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Google already sold all my private info and I’m not getting it back. So there’s no point in caring about my private info being on the internet.

You could Google search my user name and I’m sure you’ll find my real name SOMEWHERE on the internet. Probably on the first page too.

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Sonic the Hedgehog fanboy over here. However I don’t follow the fandom. Those guys are animals.

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A good sense of humor is when you don’t judge other people for their jokes, even if you don’t find it funny. Nothing ruins a joke more than making everyone laugh, but that one guy who doesn’t think it’s funny just crosses their arms and stares at you.

And I’m not talking about insensitive jokes here (like racist, blonde, yo mama jokes ect.) but genuinely funny jokes that everyone thinks is hilarious. All it takes is that one sour-puss to ruin a whole mood.

THAT is truly what a good sense of humor is (imo).

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I once had a dream that I was James from “James and the Giant Peach” most bizarre dream I’ve ever had.

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