a magician asks you to pick a card - any card, in fact. you do. they ask you to put the card back in the pack - anywhere in the pack, in fact. you do. they walk away. ten years later, your wife gives birth to the six of clubs. “is this your card?” the midwife asks, in a familiar voice.

what the fuck


I strongly identify with wood elves because I too like to drink wine and talk about how men are failing


when u accidentally click a link so u dont release the mouse and kind of slowly drag away from the link. threat avoided. citizens safe. for now.


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