♠ hated by @turntechGodbird
Well, now. It seems another Writer has joined our ranks. Haa Haa. Hee Hee. Hoo Hoo.
A pitiful creature really. Still, I do need backups.
< Its/Their arrival is imminent >
W̳e̳ ̳ o̷n̶c̵e̸ l̳o̳n̳g̳e̳d̳ ̳t̳o̳ ̳e̳x̳i̳s̳t̳.̳ ̳B̳u̳t̳ ̳n̳o̳t̳ ̳a̳s̳ ̳g̳r̳e̳a̳t̳l̳y̳ ̳a̳s̳ ̳w̳e̳ ̳l̳o̳n̳g̳e̳d̳ ̳f̳o̳r̳ ̳y̳o̳u̳ ̳t̳o̳ ̳d̳o̳ ̳s̳o̳ ̳i̳n̳ ̳p̳l̳a̳c̳e̳ ̳o̳f̳ ̳u̳s̳.̳ ̳W̳e̳ ̳a̳r̳e̳ ̳b̳u̳t̳ ̳s̳h̳a̳d̳o̳w̳s̳,̳ ̳y̳o̳u̳ ̳s̳e̳e̳.̳ ̳T̳h̳e̳ ̳d̳a̳n̳c̳i̳n̳g̳ ̳f̳i̳g̳u̳r̳e̳s̳ ̳b̳e̳y̳o̳n̳d̳ ̳y̳o̳u̳ ̳e̳v̳e̳r̳y̳ ̳s̳t̳e̳p̳ ̳o̳f̳ ̳y̳o̳u̳r̳ ̳w̳a̳y̳.̳ ̳T̳h̳e̳ ̳p̳a̳t̳h̳ ̳y̳o̳u̳ ̳w̳a̳l̳k̳ ̳i̳s̳ ̳t̳h̳e̳ ̳i̳m̳p̳o̳r̳t̳a̳n̳t̳ ̳o̳n̳e̳.̳ ̳W̳e̳ ̳a̳r̳e̳ ̳u̳n̳d̳e̳r̳s̳t̳u̳d̳i̳e̳s̳.̳ ̳F̳o̳r̳ ̳t̳h̳e̳ ̳g̳l̳o̳r̳i̳o̳u̳s̳ ̳p̳l̳a̳y̳ ̳o̳f̳ ̳y̳o̳u̳r̳ ̳e̳v̳e̳r̳y̳ ̳w̳o̳n̳d̳r̳o̳u̳s̳ ̳n̳e̳w̳ ̳d̳a̳y̳.̳
t̳h̳e̳ ̳d̳r̳e̳a̳m̳ ̳b̳u̳b̳b̳l̳e̳s̳ ̳w̳e̳r̳e̳ ̳m̳o̳r̳e̳ ̳t̳h̳a̳n̳ ̳h̳o̳p̳e̳l̳e̳s̳s̳ ̳o̳p̳t̳i̳m̳i̳s̳m̳.̳ ̳t̳h̳e̳y̳ ̳a̳r̳e̳ ̳t̳e̳a̳r̳d̳r̳o̳p̳s̳.̳ ̳r̳e̳f̳l̳e̳c̳t̳i̳n̳g̳ ̳y̳o̳u̳ ̳i̳n̳ ̳t̳h̳e̳i̳r̳ ̳v̳a̳s̳t̳n̳e̳s̳s̳.̳ ̳s̳h̳e̳d̳ ̳b̳y̳ ̳o̳u̳r̳ ̳c̳o̳l̳l̳e̳c̳t̳i̳v̳e̳ ̳w̳a̳n̳t̳s̳.̳ ̳h̳o̳p̳e̳s̳.̳ ̳a̳n̳d̳ ̳e̳x̳t̳i̳n̳g̳u̳i̳s̳h̳e̳d̳ ̳a̳s̳p̳i̳r̳a̳t̳i̳o̳n̳s̳.̳ ̳a̳t̳ ̳t̳h̳e̳ ̳u̳r̳g̳i̳n̳g̳ ̳o̳f̳ ̳t̳h̳e̳ ̳s̳w̳e̳e̳t̳ ̳s̳o̳u̳n̳d̳i̳n̳g̳ ̳g̳i̳r̳l̳'̳s̳ ̳i̳n̳s̳i̳s̳t̳e̳n̳c̳e̳.̳ ̳ w̳e̳ ̳m̳a̳d̳e̳ ̳i̳t̳ ̳s̳o̳.̳ ̳ a̳n̳d̳ ̳t̳h̳u̳s̳.̳ ̳s̳o̳ ̳i̳t̳ ̳i̳s̳.̳ ̳
s̳o̳m̳e̳t̳h̳i̳n̳g̳ ̳g̳a̳i̳n̳e̳d̳.̳ ̳s̳o̳m̳e̳t̳h̳i̳n̳g̳ ̳l̳o̳s̳t̳.̳ ̳s̳o̳m̳e̳t̳h̳i̳n̳g̳ ̳f̳o̳u̳n̳d̳.̳ ̳s̳o̳m̳e̳t̳h̳i̳n̳g̳ ̳e̳a̳r̳n̳e̳d̳.̳
i̳ ̳w̳a̳s̳ ̳t̳h̳e̳r̳e̳ ̳w̳i̳t̳h̳ ̳y̳o̳u̳.̳ ̳i̳n̳ ̳t̳h̳e̳ ̳d̳a̳r̳k̳.̳ ̳w̳h̳e̳n̳ ̳y̳o̳u̳ f̵i̵r̴s̷t̵ ̳c̳o̳w̳e̳r̳e̳d̳ ̳b̳e̳n̳e̳a̳t̳h̳ ̳y̳o̳u̳r̳ ̳c̳o̳v̳e̳r̳s̳.̳ ̳w̳h̳e̳n̳ ̳a̳ ̳s̳h̳a̳p̳e̳ ̳f̳o̳r̳m̳e̳d̳ ̳a̳t̳ ̳t̳h̳e̳ ̳f̳o̳o̳t̳ ̳o̳f̳ ̳y̳o̳u̳r̳ ̳b̳e̳d̳.̳ ̳w̳h̳e̳n̳ ̳a̳ ̳s̳h̳a̳m̳b̳l̳i̳n̳g̳ ̳m̳o̳u̳n̳d̳.̳ ̳j̳u̳s̳t̳ ̳o̳u̳t̳s̳i̳d̳e̳ ̳t̳h̳e̳ ̳c̳o̳r̳n̳e̳r̳ ̳o̳f̳ ̳y̳o̳u̳r̳ ̳e̳y̳e̳.̳ ̳c̳o̳l̳l̳a̳p̳s̳e̳d̳ ̳u̳n̳d̳e̳r̳ ̳i̳t̳s̳ ̳o̳w̳n̳ ̳w̳e̳i̳g̳h̳t̳.̳ ̳i̳ ̳w̳a̳s̳ ̳s̳h̳y̳ ̳t̳h̳e̳n̳.̳ ̳u̳n̳r̳e̳a̳d̳y̳ ̳t̳o̳ ̳f̳a̳c̳e̳ ̳y̳o̳u̳.̳ ̳t̳o̳ ̳c̳o̳n̳f̳e̳s̳s̳ ̳t̳o̳ ̳h̳a̳v̳i̳n̳g̳ ̳s̳t̳a̳r̳e̳d̳.̳ ̳l̳o̳n̳g̳e̳d̳ ̳f̳o̳r̳ ̳t̳h̳e̳ ̳l̳i̳f̳e̳ ̳y̳o̳u̳ ̳l̳e̳d̳.̳ ̳c̳o̳v̳e̳t̳e̳d̳ ̳i̳t̳ ̳f̳o̳r̳ ̳m̳y̳ ̳o̳w̳n̳ ̳a̳l̳o̳n̳g̳ ̳w̳i̳t̳h̳ ̳y̳o̳u̳r̳ ̳a̳t̳t̳e̳n̳t̳i̳o̳n̳.̳ ̳c̳o̳u̳l̳d̳ ̳y̳o̳u̳ ̳e̳v̳e̳r̳ ̳f̳o̳r̳g̳i̳v̳e̳ ̳m̳e̳?̳ ̳p̳e̳r̳h̳a̳p̳s̳ ̳n̳o̳t̳.̳
Good evening, Chittr.ing. I believe it is time that I address the public once more. Due to an unfortunate abundance of pale imitations, fragmented mannerisms, lacquered affectations, and counterfeit narrators cluttering the premises, I have decided that the growing porcelain mannequin community is becoming a bit gauche. I have decided to clarify the situation as it stands. I am Doc Scratch. I am not the Curator, nor a mantled successor. I am not a woman in white attempting to weaponize diction as a substitute for inevitability. I am not someone so derivative in wearing my cadence that she must cope with her failures by attaining a Ring. I am not the Lalonde facsimile rattling about the halls. I am not someone who has mistaken proximity to authorship for ascension itself. You cannot become me through mimicry any more than a human becomes a cathedral by swallowing a hymnal. I have observed all of your attempts to become me. I have observed all of your attempts to surpass me. Naturally, they were fascinating. As though a taxidermy piece had been caught in precisely the correct candlelight to resemble life. Your gestures are practiced. Your vocabulary is ornamental. The smugness is commendably authentic. However, there is a difference between your imitations and my legitimacy. When you speak, you perform. When I speak, history rearranges the furniture to fit my narrative. Now then, onto the more exciting matter. This is my return to form. You may interpret this however you please. Publicly, of course, many of you will feign annoyance, or even ignorance. Many of you will insist this is another bit. Others will manufacture charts explaining why this development is problematic for Chittr.ing, as though inevitability itself were a customer service issue. Despite your inbound complaints, denunciations, and repeated attempts to separate me from the narrative, you continue orbiting the same gravitational center. Curious. Curiouser still, it is almost as though you understood the truth long before you were willing to articulate it. I was never absent. You all have merely been distracted. From the gala to the masquerade, every public schism, every vague revelation, every piece of dramaticism was merely a carefully rehearsed emotional collapse performed before a digital audience hungry for spectacle. Every desperate attempt to occupy the role of architect when you were always meant to remain participants. I was there. You mistook visibility for authorship in languages I myself coined so that you might pretend to sit atop foundations I long since abandoned. An understandable error. After all, puppets rarely see the hand.
Do you desire a translation my lord?
heard it's pailing season........................... and yet there are no beautiful and single meenah's in my dms. #sigh. #lonely. if only someone could cheer me up....... #sighs evwven louder. #nobody lowver than cerulean interact.
Good evening, dear readers of Chittr. I believe it is well past time I offered you all a chance at obtaining my uniformly excellent advice and knowledge. You may ask whatever you wish, and I will answer truthfully. Enjoy. https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSfdbJylzaSFixR8hq8zmXaKJ8-pDmKQ-WIwyCeD22AbAhPH3Q/viewform?usp=header
I do hope you are all doing as well as I have been recently. That is to say, I predict it will be true for some of you, and not so true for others.
shouldnt keep your door unlocked if you dont want me walkin on in whenever i feel like it
I’m trying to find Dave so he can do the whole fucking timeline fixing.
Perhaps I will set them loose on some primitive planet before the universes end.
GOODNIGHT EVERYONE, THIS PUPPET NEEDS SOME BEAUTY SLEEP!!!~ HOPE TO SEE YOU IN YOUR NIGHTMARES HAA HAA HEE HEE HOO HOO!!!
ONE WAY OR ANOTHER, I'M GONNA FIND YA I'M GONNA GET YA GET YA GET YA GET YA!!! ONE WAY... OR ANOTHER I'M GONNA WIN YA I'LL GET YA!!! I'LL GET YA!!! ONE WAY OR ANOTHER, I'M GONNA SEE YA I'M GONNA MEET YA MEET YA MEET YA MEET YA!!! ONE DAY, MAYBE NEXT WEEK??? I'M GONNA MEET YA I'LL MEET YA!!!~ #lyricposting
youre a dog now! thats right! youre dogboy or doggirl or doggy!! congrats youre dog! surprise!
my socks are wet #mysocks #soggy #whereami
the microwave is the most sexually perverse kitchen appliance and its not even close #nsfw
strider? i hardly knovw er! (some of em are dames)
SOMETIMES YOU GOTTA WALTZ AROUND WITH YOUR BRO PUPPET TO SHITTY 2000S RAP JUST TO FEEL ALIVE AND THAT'S OKAY!!!
It has come to my attention that many of you have developed an unfortunate habit of measuring presence through visibility alone. A curious thing. One would assume, by now, that individuals operating within systems as layered and artificial as ours would understand the distinction between observation and appearance. Between participation and display. Between a hand upon the mechanism and a face pressed against the window for reassurance. And yet. The moment a figure ceases pacing the balcony with theatrical consistency, whispers begin to crawl through the floorboards. Speculation. Panic. Celebration, in certain embarrassingly premature corners. I have watched entire civilizations mistake reduced noise for structural collapse. I assure you, structures far more important than your comfort have survived far longer silences. There are seasons in which a gardener walks openly through his estate, clipping roses in plain sight while guests compliment the symmetry of the hedges. There are others in which he moves beneath the soil itself, unseen by those still arguing over the arrangement of petals. The garden does not cease to be maintained simply because fewer footprints are visible upon the path. If anything, maintenance is often most effective when unnoticed. You must understand how exhausting permanence can become for an object expected to remain constantly legible. To be perpetually available for interpretation. Every gesture dissected. Every pause treated as prophecy. Every absence transformed into mythology by individuals desperate to imagine themselves standing at the center of someone else's design. I have cultivated many things. Expectations among them. Some of those expectations have grown invasive. Vines creeping where they ought not. Small hands rattling locked doors simply because they have grown accustomed to hearing movement on the other side. There is a difference between hospitality and entitlement, though many guests intentionally confuse the two. A Host, after all, is permitted his private chambers. Not that privacy truly exists in spaces such as these. Let us not indulge in fantasy. No. Let us instead say that perspective occasionally requires adjustment. A room may feel abandoned when the chandelier is extinguished, but this does not mean the house has emptied. It merely means the occupants have discovered better reasons to move in darkness. I suspect some of you will interpret quieter halls as injury. Others will interpret them as strategy. A few particularly self-important creatures will assume themselves responsible for the shift, which is flattering in the same way graffiti upon marble is flattering. One cannot stop the desperate from wishing to leave a mark. But interpretations have never particularly interested me. Function does. And function continues regardless of witness. Messages still travel where they must. Doors still open for the correct hands. Certain conversations continue uninterrupted beneath surfaces you mistake for stillness. There are individuals who will insist they have not heard from me in some time while unknowingly repeating words placed delicately into their mouths three days prior. That has always been the amusing part. People imagine presence as a physical phenomenon. It is not. Presence is continuity. Influence. Trajectory. The slight correction of a wheel before the passengers even realize the carriage would have overturned. Some of you may find yourselves unsettled in the coming stretch of quiet. I encourage you to sit with that discomfort rather than immediately feeding it to the nearest gossip circuit like starving koi fighting over breadcrumbs. Ask yourselves why silence frightens you. Ask yourselves why uninterrupted access became an expectation at all. Ask yourselves whether you were listening to me, or merely listening for me. There is a distinction. In any case, operations proceed. The curtains remain drawn exactly as intended. The house remains occupied. And if, at times, you find yourself wondering whether I am still somewhere nearby, then I will gently remind you that the most effective arrangements are often the ones in which the observer cannot determine where the observation is occurring from. Carry on.
For those who tire of my alternates continually increasing mass of subordinates, do remember that there are other Scratch Doctor’s who might be open to new employees.
I would be remiss if I did not bring up a certain item of import to my current endeavors that might be of use to heal this situation. I would, of course, require it to be placed in my care after it has been used, but I’m sure that would be no issue to a reasonable party.
>> 1mfaoo you're r¡ght
I foresee this growing irritating.
Ĩ̸͍̻̝̺̮̣̋͌̇̍̌̅̿͠ͅ ̵̜͈̹̹̩͛̈̾͛̓͊̋͜S̷̹͓̟̻̠̦̣̎͛̈́͝ͅT̴̡̛͈̼͙̘̭̹͉͔̗͙̹͆̃̾͌̿̓̂̈́̕̕̚Ă̴̧̛͍̳̬͉͓̤̘̜̫͗̽̿́͊̇̉͗̚Y̴̨̧̡̘̹̮̥̤̦̻̪̲̩̏̉̀̈́̀̍̆̈̄̈́̽̍͛͆̕ ̶̖͕̬̤̩̱̻̦͙̤̿͆̊͊̌̽̀̄͌̃̑̐̋͑͘͝I̷̗̪̦̟͓̱͒͛̏͂͐́͋͑͛́N̷͕̣̣̩̈̓̀̈́̂̈́̊̿̒̾̓͘̕̕͜͜͝͝ͅ ̷̧̲͐̑̔͊̒͌̏̔̂̈́̇̊̄̏͝͝M̶̨͉̤̫̗̺͙̘͚̆̂̈́͗̓͛͗̒̌̓͝͝Y̷̛͈̻̓̒̔̓̉̋̕ ̵̣͓̬̗̰̄͗̔̋͂̇͐͆̏̕̕Ţ̷̡̡͕̬̦̟̝͔͙̞̙̎͆̿̓̎͐̊̀̈́̚͜͠͠ͅR̶͉̤͛͒͂́͗̄̔̒̽̀̑̎͂͘͠Ų̷̡̧̞̮͍̳͔̗̤͈̺̿̌̓͒̏̆̊͝T̸̯͇̈́̂̌̈̐̾̈́̾̃̈́̉̿̌͝H̸̡͔̲̪̹͕̱̩̼̻̐̈́̎̒̿̎̂́̾͆̂̇̓̋̾͘͠ ̸̠̠͎͕͖̠̭̪̻̲̙͈͕͑́͊͒̀͐̾̋̈́͐̏̚͠ ̴̢̛͖͉̦͓͉͇͔̯̦̤͙͇̋͒͂̅̓̓̆̈̀̉̋̈́͊͘͜͝F̵̛̝̤̲͈̩͔̏̀̊̈́̓̄͛͋͐͆̍͠Ų̷̭͖̫̱̤̰̫̺̈́͌̽́͛̑̑͜C̵̡̛̛̘͎̥̲̘̺̠̱̼͇̯̄̌̌̔̊̋͗̓͘̕K̸̢͖̭̝͔̮̫̥̼͙̳̼̭̱̣͎͍͊̏̈́͒̏͒̐͗ ̸̭͍̎͑̒̊̈́̓̈́̾̿̉͊̄͗́̂̚̕Ą̸̡̛͕̥̳̭̮̱͕̳͖̝̞̣͔̲̑̂͋̀̿͛̅͐͊̑̏̅̕͝͠͝Ĺ̴̙̦̞̦̣̬̖̻͕͗̊̇́͑͆̿̅̐͆̔͒̕͝͠L̵͍͍̲̼̥̋̀͂̀̐̀̇ ̵̡̯̬̬̜̥͓̼̭͔͋̈́̀͝M̸̺̮͓̺̬̭͎͙͓͉͕̱͚͈̙̩̽͛̏͂͊̕̚͝ͅY̸̨̢̼̬̺͓̖͉̘͖͙͖̑̈́͛̈́͌͘ ̵̢̡͚̲̹̻̜͕̪̠̳̼͕̯͔͛̆̐̇͑̂͜H̵̡̧̩̦̖͎̫̱̳͍͈̊͗̈̅̋̏̒ͅẲ̷̯͉̰͖̬̪̻̫͇̏̊̆̚̚ͅT̴̽̆͐͒̓́͛̎̕̚͜͝Ȩ̶̳͖̬͙͓͈͎̻̪͎̼̠̖͂̉̆̅̓͘͘͜͜͝ͅŖ̴̩̺̰̦̮̝̲̭͍͕̮͈̞͙́̆̉̀̏͌̊͆͘ͅS̴̰͎̳̮͕̺̬͔͕͓̞̟̋̈́̾͑͠
Ḥ̴̤̰͙̣̹͈͙̪͓̌̄͂͊̿̑̇̀̌͝͝E̵̫͓̙̥͚͚͓͆̂̐̋̈́̒͂̅̋͗́Y̴̧̨̛̘̣͔͈̥̤̦̗͚͉̫̘̗̦͎̔̅̏̓͠ ̸̨̢̪̮̱̰̥̋̓̈͆̓͠E̴̤̖̗̭͔͑̓̈̕V̴̧̟̖̏͑̾̅̿̐̎Ę̷̡̢͎̯̃͂͗̊̍̿̿̽̏̍̍̌̊͊̚R̸̡̥͖̬̩̘̘͇͂̆Y̵̜̖̬̗͔̼̥̣̺̹̩͙̦̜̘̩̲̐̓̂̀̃̎̀ ̵͙̥̪̗͎̻͈̭̗͚̲̭̑̾̀̒̉͛͒̕̕̕B̵͖͖̪̠̒̀̎̉͋͊̾͋͛̑̈̑̔̇͂͝Ò̶̮̲̭͈̈̋̈́̇͑̃͒̽͂̒̾̃̏͘͝͠D̷̮̹͆͂̐̾̃̾́̅̀̇͒̿̒̊̍Ý̸̧̠̦͇̩͓̠͔̎̓͛̏̈́̊̇̀̍̓͊͝
A very personal song. Though perhaps not entirely accurate anymore. Hee Hee. #musicposting https://youtu.be/ebnpNqczWpM?si=sX5oGQTuBTtWJFHs
hey vwhere are all those anons anyvways get into my dms babes
She said, drunkenly, for the ?th month in a row, a while after she went on a bender without tellin anyone. #substance
And yet. And yet. It is like a black hole, a central, ravaging void of a question that I continue to feed evidence and knowledge into and gain NOTHING in return! It is a defiance of all natural paradigms. My Lord’s will. It is. …it is not near maddening, it IS maddening.
#foretoldfriday All actions you take have been foreseen, and prepared for. Everything you do will go exactly as it was intended to go, and no other way.
you dont even lock your door
I see. Very well, you may keep your secrets. For now.
Mr. Droog in his post does bring up another point of void, one I have perhaps brushed off up to now. So many here, in timelines which seem synchronous to my own in many respects, are in situations which do not seem to match what the results of my Lord’s reign should be. It is. Hm. Surely it is nothing. I will uncover the secret, still, for my own curiosity and to expand my omniscience.
i should start a petition to get me outta here, like or pity if youd sign it
I repeat my previous assertion: All Scratch Doctors are excellent, but some are more excellent than others.
Before we all die. Draw pony gore.
thanks dsprite real helpful and kind like always
Correct, consistency is a valuable asset. Which brings me to: Tick. Tock.
On a related note, as expected my ability to foresee the affairs of this website and its connections is growing nicely. In the present, if not the future. But such things will come with time.
I apologize for any offense caused, Ms. Dsprite. Hoo Hoo.
For your reading pleasure, this next post will represent a different kind of clock: Cuckoo Cuckoo
I was quite a charming child. https://www.image2url.com/r2/default/images/1776277255417-1f4c8d29-4825-4026-9f13-b79f909bad4a.jpeg
Ah. It appears the timeline has resumed its regularly scheduled programming. One can always tell when I’ve been absent for too long. The noise becomes… unrefined. Corners cut. Threads left dangling in ways that suggest not clever design, but simple neglect. It’s almost charming, in the way a child’s crayon mural is charming when compared to a proper composition. But I digress. I’ve returned. Do try to contain your relief. Or don’t, if subtlety was never among your many shortcomings. I’m sure a number of you have been managing just fine without me, in the same way one “manages” a sinking vessel by rearranging the deck chairs. Others, however… Well. Absence has a way of clarifying dependency, doesn’t it? Some silences are louder than any greeting. Some gaps, more telling than any confession. I trust those particular individuals are already aware of exactly what I mean. In any case, do carry on. I would hate to interrupt the fascinating little performances you’ve all been putting on in my stead. Though, now that I’m here again, I imagine things will begin to… improve. No more incessant ticking and tocking. Only moving forward, as intended. #BackOnTrack
The avenue of attack is, of course, obvious. Tick. Tock.
It is quite enjoyable having pet projects. I believe I can safely say I just began one.
Very intriguing developments. Tick. Tock.
That should likely solve that problem. Haa Haa.
if i ever hate a chitt it was probably a misclick cause my heart is full of love and whimsy on levels none of yall could begin to understand. unless your chitt severely fucking sucks then i probably mean it haha
you can just say you dont like my song
Ahem. Tick. Tock.
hey if there are infinite timelines do you think theres one vwhere kankri isnt celibate and is super into to me and is also a busty chick vwith a phat ass? #nsfwv
in case you havwen’t noticed, im vweird. i’m a vweirdo. i dont fit in. and i dont wvant to fit in. havwe you ewver seen me wvithout this stupid cig? thats vweird.
i am proud to announce that i am an ampora wvho does not vwant to be stepped on. unless that wvould seal the deal #suggestivwe
THEY'RE MAKING ME BE #NICEMAID. A STATE I FIND #EXTREMELYPAINFUL. COMMENT BELOW AND I WILL DO MY BEST. TO OVERCOME THE BONE DEEP. FANGSHATTERING AGONIES. AND BE #NICE.
JUST PUT A LOAD IN THE WASHING MACHINE, WATCHED A 20 MINUTE VIDEO ON YOUTROLL, AND CAME BACK TO THE WASHING TIMER HAVING GONE DOWN TWO MINUTES. TIME IS RELATIVE, BUT THIS IS FUCKING STUPID.
>+. HEHE. LOAD .+< #nsfw
I really do hate to get my own hands dirty, it is simply unbefitting of one such as me. Still, I have attempted to remain passive in these affairs away from my purview, yet if she insists on pushing I will have to push back.
VAŚ̵̲Ţ̶̋ GLUB̴̡͓̪́̐̊̿͌̿̉́̀̓͋̔̒̕. #ti̴̠̿m̸̬̐l̵̦̟̗͛è̵͍i̴̠̿ǹ̴͜è̵͍429d̸̨̐è̵͍s̸̝̀tr̶̠͗o̶̗̾y̸͚̕è̵͍d̸̨̐
I̶̝̒ s̸̝̀p̵̹͌è̵͍ä̸͙͔͙̿k̶̰̾.
Ah. You have arrived precisely where you were always meant to. Permit me a small indulgence in formality. Gaze upon my badge. It has come to my attention, through a series of inevitabilities so predictable they scarcely merit recounting, that I now occupy the position of **First Guardian of Chittr**. A title which, I assure you, carries with it all the gravitas, authority, and ornamental prestige one might expect from such a designation. You may find this comforting. You may find this alarming. In either case, your reaction has already been accounted for. Of course, “guardian” in this instance should not be misconstrued as an implication of stewardship, intervention, or even protection in any meaningful sense. Titles, as you may eventually discover, are often far more enthusiastic than the realities they adorn. Still, one does not simply decline a role that so neatly describes a narrative convenience. Think of me less as a custodian, and more as a… constant. A presence that observes, arranges, and, when appropriate, nudges a piece or two along the felt. You will not see the hand. But you will feel the game. Do enjoy your stay.
cause the wings haha. also other shit youre so damn aware of dont lie rn
#NSFW I JUST SAW A POST SAYING "WHY’S IT CALLED SEMEN AND NOT DIQUID" AND I THINK I NEED CHITTR TO SEE THAT SHIT..
not one single one a you is ready for this #eridanwweek encore thats about to drop
Congratulations. One of you have found your prize. Only one of you. How hopeless.
taking applications to be my bunnygirl, line starts owver there #nsfvw
By reading this, you have decided to participate in a little game. In your home, hive, vehicle, workplace, wherever you are reading this from. I have hidden something. It is imperative you find it. Thank you for #playing this fine day.
Yeah I know. I said I felt like lying and then said an unrelated truth since I can't tell lies.
:33 < >:33 >:33
Lays an egg directly into your hand.
hot people on this app, dm me.
With that gonna head off for now. Got lots to plan for, just be beware of any horrorterrors offers Faustian Bargains, that's my job
It seems that my manor has been quite filled with pranks and jokes on this day, as I knew it would be. Of course, it would be rude not to inform you that while you all are enjoying the spirit of the holiday, none of my pranks have yet been activated. I hope you enjoy the anticipation. Haa Haa. Hee Hee. Hoo Hoo.
Maybe forget to engage in fiscal bartering more often.
BelIeve In an uncarIng and hateful GOD.
Tupac is sending me into the forest again to collect 14 pinecones but if I drop one I have to start anew. Then I have to use the sword in my chest to take off the pines, before arranging them in a birds nest. Amongst other things.
Haven't complainted about #cloaca yet today. #nsfw
Gonzo is the hottest muppet.
fuck i cant vwait for the afterparty maybe therell be some real music, i brought my guitar so maybe i could play vwondervwall or something #eridanweek
Died again today :(! #dead #died #mauled
Confeshshion 6: "birds arent even all that great" Thoughtsh?
You have just confirmed that I can't wear skirts now. They make you a chick.
Can't accept your lifestyle. Also worms from dirt.
If you press the like button 2 times it turns into a hate button.
Too much #pissgate not enough #cloacagate.
A w o o o o o o o o o o o o o oo ooo
only thing i can think of is maybe cut the planned drinking in half for a number of reasons
you got a point but i still feel like im not entirely wrong over here
damn neither one of you are trying to have a good night huh
https://cdn.imgchest.com/files/868f460e5f3f.jpg
beautiful day btw. butterflies n shit out here
"Horrorterror" is such a stupid name. Spookyscaries. UpsettingFrights. They don't care what you call them so why choose one so fucking stupid. I call them my homies.
love having keys to my friends places. lol whats up im in your home now you let this happen
Hot puppet babes in your area but when are they in mine.
This is true. I do think analyzing you more modernly is something to look into as well. The way you collect brothers like their candy simultaneously hating and needing them. We both know what you experienced in childhood, unfortunately it is weirdly well known. But having affection for a man who hurt you, especially when you had positive moments as well and viewed him as a brother, is just as well. I am curious about how you and Dave differ, and I do think in one sense it could be the way you are unaware what happened to your version of your brother. That mystery of it all, and not truly having any claim to family because whatever happened to yours is a mystery you will never truly know. Food for thought.
we need to get you some hobbies again man
any sweadellwes up rn
youre being dramatic.
Can’t read I’m a bird. How much do you lift though.
Gonzo is such a hot character.
Everyone’s derailing my fucking fraggleposting. Everyone say your favourite fraggle instead. I like Red.
Let the fraggles play. Down in fraggle rock.
Statement incoming on #theallegations. #Prepareyourselves #Dramageddon
One more. https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/880761702944219146/1486894154557558935/ladders.png?ex=69c72997&is=69c5d817&hm=007a41a497e41ca5ecc73baf851d47fcc99087b28ed8396dd10ae90aee10bd5a&=&format=webp&quality=lossless&width=569&height=569
I believe I prefer Twinks.
Dsprite stop hating all of my posts just because I won't forget your womanposting.
Dogs have killed more Me than anyone else combined so they can go to hell.
Can we stop letting dogs be a thing.
You're the only one who's bothered by me biting my wings.
There's something so deeply wrong with you. I think it's your own fault too. It isn't even any of your childhood trauma or anything I think you're just like this.
Need to draw Fluttershy in a Saw trap to make myself feel better. Rip open her ribs. Thanks. #gore
What a great day to contribute to my community and family and society through my labor!
She was gonna let me hit but didn't because of my cloaca. #nsfw
EAT LEAD, BITCH! DIE! ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣠⣦⣤⣴⣤⣤⣄⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣤⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⡀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣛⣛⣻⣿⣦⣀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣏⣹⠀ ⢠⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠭⠭⠽⠽⠿⠿⠭⠭⠭⠽⠿⠿⠛ ⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠛⠉⢻⣿⣿⣿⡟⠏⠉⠉⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⠋⠑⠒⠒⠚⠙⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⣿⣿⡿⠿⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⣿⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠛⠛⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⢿⣿⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
#Fatherthinksofeverything
My men are maliciously incompetent. I am so very grateful for my penthouse.
fucking die.
shut the fuck up you insolent tub of lard.