When bae catches you filling the blender with ice and off brand Tide pods.

When bae catches you focusing the last photons of a dying star to type 80085 on a solar powered calculator.

When bae catches you trying to scam the bog witch with nonexistent magazine subscriptions.

When bae catches you filling a piñata with caterpillars as part of their court mandated sentence.

When bae catches you transferring your soul into a gem for tax reasons.

The one where Ross is sandblasted down to bone. His skeleton lurches into Central Perk and wordlessly screeches in pain, giving everyone a good chuckle.

Rachel starts dating an orb of pure malevolence since it's almost Valentine's.

The one where Joey gets his head caught in a bear trap. Chandler struggles with the unforgiving iron and cries, "Can your head be more crushed?"

Monica sets a school bus on fire.

The one where Phoebe declares her guitar a "temple to pain" as laughs maniacally as a a flayed arm reaches out of it.

Doctor just looking at my x-rays and getting more and more pissed at my messed up skeleton.

My wife's school is switching to asynchronous online learning so I just ordered a green screen kit so we can record lectures and then put dinosaurs and vampires and stuff in the background.

Quarantine conversations in the Normality household:

Wife: I can't believe you stole my good blanket.

Me: Good blanket? Oh, you mean my OKAY cape?

Wife: *rage yelling*

I've been donating dozens of masks to the local hospitals, but they're evil voodoo masks that drive the wearer to kill because I hate doctors.

Torn apart to be stitched together again. Dead flesh that learned a different way to live. Every strand of thread a new failure. A previous end. You remember what you were. What you've seen. You remember opening new eyes each time. You remember not getting that waffle cone...

You flee into the grey chaos between stations. It chases like a shark, logic and algorithm, forcing order on to randomness. Defining. Decoding. Devouring. As it organizes you into something it can understand, it can eat, you think how you could have gotten that waffle cone...

You watch it writhe in the darkness. Meteor pitted flesh twisting and spinning in arcs you could hide stars in. The void cracks and dances on static breath and microwave roar. You rush back to cryosleep to dream of a waffle cone you know you won't ever get...

Living with a terrible cat has given new meaning to "clothes chair" for my newest piece of office furniture.

My wife: You know what we can do to provide some direct assistance during this?

*Both of us at the same time*
Me: Big tips for local takeout and delivery drivers.
Her: We can sign up for some onlyfans!

Her: Also that.

I'm watching 4x4 reviews and alternating between wistfully remembering what fresh air tastes like and hollerin' in rage about a Ram 1500 costing $70,000+.

Putting ultra low friction rollerblade wheels on my step stool and promptly forgetting about it, guaranteeing my passage to hell next time I try to change a lightbulb.

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