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A shiny Biden in front of a greenscreen is like how at the end of an action movie the hero shoots themselves full of a leathal dose of uppers and painkillers to go out in a blaze of glory, but to support his brother's right to deny your insurance claim.

If you're asking us to vote for a stuttering guy crudely greenscreened then it better be Max fuckin' Headroom.

Ape Truck is good as both a band name and a possible future.

When bae catches you pouring concrete on a tent to make a "no bake house".

When bae catches you realigning your chakras so you can get spinners on them.

When bae catches you building a railgun to fire one cat into another.

When bae catches you entombing yourself in fine cheeses.

When bae catches you siphoning gas from the car and into the pump to trick 7-11.

There are at least two houses on my block having sizable quarantine parties, if you were wondering when we'll see a large drop in new infections.

I think everyone is entitled to one (1) insane conspiracy theory. Mine is that we faked the moon landing footage.

We sent them up there but we had that perfect first step video ready to roll if the cameras screwed up or they tripped coming down the ladder or something.

The one where Joey's skeleton escapes. Chandler chases the gore spattered fiend around the living room while shouting, "Could you be any more boneheaded?"

Phoebe stops hiding the bodies of her many victims and prepares for ascension.

The one with a giant eagle. It carries Ross off into the sky while the rest of the gang pretend to not hear his desperate pleas for help.

Monica uses a paper bag at the grocery store and is yelled at by an ent.

The one where Phoebe accidently releases a blast of superheated plasma during an open mic an vaporizes the audience.

Rachel tries to make a salad but only makes a new type of fire.

My biggest fear is that this crisis is going to bring us more together as a community.

We must do everything necessary to prevent this global crisis from producing a new batch of YouTube celebrities.

Nothing should be off the table.

I ordered a new office chair this morning figuring I can just write it off since we're all work from home now.

This means I'm pessimistic about this clearing up anytime soon but optimistic that we will still have a federal government when it does.

Fun little quarantine game: Tie the dog to your back with a belt and chase family around while yelling, "Watch where your going, I'm Mad Maxin' over 'ere!"

The divorce lawyers will need a good laugh when this is over.

My Twitter feed swings wildly between virus chat, horny drawings, and console dweebs not understanding the concept of a terraflop.

I am very disappointed in all of us.

I know you are all excited about the new Animal Crossing but Mr. Resetti was just diagnosed with the virus.

That means I'm not buying the game until he is either discharged or they release a Mr. Resetti Deluxe Memorial Edition.

This is called a pro-gamer move.

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