it's the time of year when we sacrifice a tree to the Elder God of Morality. if He is pleased with our sacrifice and devotion, He brings gifts from His den on the north pole. if He is displeased, He stuffs our socks with the charred remains of last year's trees.
the US employs a thousand individuals exactly like Viktor Bout but ours are midlevel CIA guys named Keith who gets clowned on by his buddies at Langley because he drives a Honda Odyssey but they don’t know it’s because it’s the only car that can fit his sons wheelchair
“Southwest Airlines welcomes you to Phoenix, Ariz-”
You bolt awake in the mountains of Carthage. It is 217 BC. You are the general Hannibal, and you have changed your mind. The future cannot come to pass. Rome must burn.
Love that every world cup dumbass Americans that never watch the sport come in and give their take on rule changes that would make the game “more entertaining” then saying their favorite sport is a game where 60% of the TV runtime is just Doritos commercials