I really hope the new Sailor Moon will take inspiration from Precure and add a ton of physical fighting rather than just sparkly attack sequences.
submitted by anon
Two scientists walk into a bar
The first scientist says “I’ll have a glass of H2O”
The second scientist says “I’ll have a glass of water too. Wh… why did you say H2O? Like, I know it’s the chemical formula for water and all, but it’s the end of the day and there’s really no need to intentionally over-complicate things like that in a situation outside of work”
The first scientist stares at his drink, angry that his assassination plan has failed.
Took me 48 seconds, but I eventually got the joke.
Hydrogen Peroxide, eh?…you sly boots.
Anonymous asked: again, im happy your not running nintendo. games on smartphones trollololol
Then I’ve failed at satisfying my consumer base.
Guess I’ll become the CEO of JC Penny.
Harold moped miserably on the couch in his family’s living room, skin clammy, nose red and runny, and spirit down. Long story short, he was sick, and on the first day of Spring Break of all days. But that was only the first of his problems today. He looked miserably out the window to remind himself that even if he wasn’t sick, he’d still be cooped up in the house against his will.
The weather today was dreadful. It was barely one o’clock in the afternoon, but the dark clouds that poured heavy raindrops onto the earth made it dark enough to look like it was nighttime. This was bittersweet for Harold. The gloomy weather added to Harold’s unpleasant mood, but it helped him remember that he wasn’t the only one in his class whose Spring Break plans had been ruined for the day. Arnold, Sid, Stinky, all of them practically forbidden to go outside because of the weather. At least none of them were as sick as dogs. Either way, this was no way to start Spring Break.
As Harold moped on the couch with only the characters on the TV for company, his father, Jerry, came into the room wearing a purple bathrobe over his blue pajamas and with a china teacup in his hand. The father and son shared a brief moment of eye contact, both looking indifferent. Harold was the first to break it. He slouched down so low in his seat that his neck became barely visible and quietly looked down at his stocking feet. Jerry approached his sick son and held out the filled teacup to him.
“Here, Son,” he said. “Drink this.”
Harold took the cup, which was hot at the touch, and looked down at the steaming, light brown liquid that filled it. Tea. He normally hated the stuff, mainly because it made him think of the lame tea parties Rhonda would often host, but given his current condition everything tasted horrible. So he accepted it.