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An invincible wolf man, who is like a wolf in every regard save for the fact that he can fly.

(Note: This might be misinformation)

  • 6 Posts
  • 627 Comments
Joined 1 year ago
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Cake day: June 12th, 2023

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  • Stalinwolf@lemmy.catoUnexpected Factorial@sopuli.xyzI’m 19!
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    48 minutes ago

    Tipping into my late '30s here. I often see much older folks making themselves known here. I don’t know if that explains the more civil (mostly) environment, or if other demographics contribute to this. I will note that the US election season really stirred the pot and kicked a few hornet nests. Hoping that subsides a bit, but doubtful. Either way, I feel a lot more respected on this platform and no longer have the desire to be confrontational with others.


  • It’s the warm blend of its cozy art style, ambient audio, and the unparalleled soundtrack. You go through the grandpa intro and observe his strangely thin bed all over again. Then the Jojamart corporate hell scene. You open the letter and reading it even for the fifteenth time gives you an immediate sense of peace and relief, because you know you’re going back to the valley. It’s all good vibes from here.

    The music fades away and you’re greeted with a quiet scene in the mountains, watching a grumbly coach bus speed past the sign, and you’re left with a moment between you and the countryside. There are a few trilling birds and one lands in the sign. You arrive at your stop and immediately that uplifting little song starts playing and Robin’s cute-ass face appears, probably with wood shavings in her bangs, and she still has that voice you crafted for her in your head after all these years. The mayor will too. She’s an old friend.

    She ushers you away to your first long view of the farm. Now, you’ve already been here several times in the last decade, but that music. That warm, orangish pallete. That overgrown little cabin on that rugged patch of land. The music grooves on and right away you get butterflies in your stomach over the prospect of getting to be here everyday, cleaning it up and carving your own little life and operation. There is a sense of joy and freedom, and a million possibilities laying under that brush-strewn mess that used to be a field. It never fails to bring you right back and feel that magic again.

    It’s like the developer perfectly captured our most innocent human desires in a tiny bottle.









  • It was either the shrimp or the bean sprouts in the food court Pad Thai. I was visiting my S.O. in Canada and wound up in a 3-day war with food poisoning. I could not stop puking and shitting. I shit so much acidic death juice that my asshole was in absolute agony and never cooled down. It was like someone had fileted and cauterized my rectum. I couldn’t even sit on the couch properly. Fortunately, her sectional was old and had collapsed in on itself in the very corner. I sat in this corner, right on top of the collapsed portion. It was perfect for supporting my body without making contact with the seat of my pants. I sat in this corner for three days watching weird YouTube videos about Centralia and other phenomena, while intermittently hopping up to puke and shit and fart. I was so fucking sick. I felt like I was going to die.




  • It’s always the most insecure looking dudes who take their profile pics with sunglasses on in the front seat of their Dodge Ram, or mildly muscular/tattooed guys who have taken 50+ successive shirtless selfies, smirking in front of a mirror. It’s even funnier when you note how many times they went back through their old pics and re-posted the previous ones.