https://x.com/ErinInTheMorn/status/1813394499306987818?s=19
Banger
At eastern motors, your job's your credit vibes
Banger
At eastern motors, your job's your credit vibes
Twitter thread
I rarely look at Bluesky anymore, but glad I did today as there was some quality couch related content today.
kosmo wrote:“When I get that feeling I want sectional healing”
I rarely look at Bluesky anymore, but glad I did today as there was some quality couch related content today.
Funny. I just got a new couch yesterday.
grateful wrote:just get consent first, that's all I ask
Funny. I just got a new couch yesterday.
Hatchamaticıll|̲̅̅●̲̅̅|̲̅̅=̲̅̅|̲̅̅●̲̅̅|llıl wrote:grateful wrote:just get consent first, that's all I ask
Funny. I just got a new couch yesterday.
POTW
Looks like rick has uncovered the missing text
@TheRickWilson
Couchfucker, A Hillybilly Elegy Story:
In the dim glow of the late afternoon sun through the trailer’s coal-dust stained windows cast its warm embrace upon the living room, J.D. found himself captivated by the soft, inviting curves of the worn-out couch.
It wasn't just a piece of furniture to him; it was a comforting presence, whispering promises of hidden delights through its frayed fabric and sagging cushions. His fingers traced the patterns of the upholstery, feeling an inexplicable connection, an intimacy that transcended the ordinary.
He often sat there for hours, losing himself in the tactile sensation of the fabric against his skin, the faint scents of his family’s history embedded in its fibers. It was an intersection, like his feelings during the annual family reunion, that combined shame and arousal.
J.D. had to admit it to himself; he was polyfurniamorous.
Everything in the room struck a deep chord of desire; his infatuations and lusts weren’t limited to the couch. The antique-styled melamine coffee table with its printed veneer surface stirred something deep within him. He admired the craftsmanship, the way each groove and edge seemed to beckon his touch.
On quiet evenings, he would pour himself a glass of corn liquor and sit by the table, imagining the hands that once crafted it, the lives it had silently observed. He knew the stains on its surface would tell many a tale of life in the holler, particularly under UV light.
The old armchair by the window held a special place in J.D.’s heart. It was where he felt the most at ease, the most understood. The chair's worn velour surface and creaky joints seemed to respond to his every move, almost as if it were alive, sharing his burdens and joys. He would sink into its embrace face down, feeling the weight of his troubles lift as he closed his eyes and let the chair cradle him.
In those moments of release, J.D. felt a deep, unspoken bond, a romance that defied the conventional, a love that was as enduring and unyielding as life in the holler itself.
@TheRickWilson
Couchfucker, A Hillybilly Elegy Story:
In the dim glow of the late afternoon sun through the trailer’s coal-dust stained windows cast its warm embrace upon the living room, J.D. found himself captivated by the soft, inviting curves of the worn-out couch.
It wasn't just a piece of furniture to him; it was a comforting presence, whispering promises of hidden delights through its frayed fabric and sagging cushions. His fingers traced the patterns of the upholstery, feeling an inexplicable connection, an intimacy that transcended the ordinary.
He often sat there for hours, losing himself in the tactile sensation of the fabric against his skin, the faint scents of his family’s history embedded in its fibers. It was an intersection, like his feelings during the annual family reunion, that combined shame and arousal.
J.D. had to admit it to himself; he was polyfurniamorous.
Everything in the room struck a deep chord of desire; his infatuations and lusts weren’t limited to the couch. The antique-styled melamine coffee table with its printed veneer surface stirred something deep within him. He admired the craftsmanship, the way each groove and edge seemed to beckon his touch.
On quiet evenings, he would pour himself a glass of corn liquor and sit by the table, imagining the hands that once crafted it, the lives it had silently observed. He knew the stains on its surface would tell many a tale of life in the holler, particularly under UV light.
The old armchair by the window held a special place in J.D.’s heart. It was where he felt the most at ease, the most understood. The chair's worn velour surface and creaky joints seemed to respond to his every move, almost as if it were alive, sharing his burdens and joys. He would sink into its embrace face down, feeling the weight of his troubles lift as he closed his eyes and let the chair cradle him.
In those moments of release, J.D. felt a deep, unspoken bond, a romance that defied the conventional, a love that was as enduring and unyielding as life in the holler itself.
@EronMain
Years from now, in a dark corner of a dive bar, a haggard man is heard to say:
"I wrote a book, a bestseller. Do they call me 'JD the author?' No.
"Elected to the Senate. Do they call me 'JD the Senator?' No.
"But you fuck ONE COUCH…"
Years from now, in a dark corner of a dive bar, a haggard man is heard to say:
"I wrote a book, a bestseller. Do they call me 'JD the author?' No.
"Elected to the Senate. Do they call me 'JD the Senator?' No.
"But you fuck ONE COUCH…"
Oh NYTpitchbot how I love thee
New York Times Pitchbot@DougJBalloon
Kamala Harris spent her early career in a relationship with the mayor of San Francisco—a city where she also worked as a prosecutor. That is absolutely disgraceful.
by Kimberly Guilfoyle
New York Times Pitchbot@DougJBalloon
Kamala Harris spent her early career in a relationship with the mayor of San Francisco—a city where she also worked as a prosecutor. That is absolutely disgraceful.
by Kimberly Guilfoyle
Had no idea twitter was around back then, but this tracks
A man paid $4000 to smash a Tatlor Swift autographed guitar
https://x.com/TizzyEnt/status/1840792612220940457
Hatch, wrote:
A man paid $4000 to smash a Tatlor Swift autographed guitar
https://x.com/TizzyEnt/status/1840792612220940457
but it's the left that has a derangement syndrome… got it.
Trump doesn’t make you apeshit?
gay swifties against trump: Blank Space (Donald's Version)
sweetcell wrote:I'm glad you finally found your peeps
gay swifties against trump: Blank Space (Donald's Version)
a girl can dream
almost got fooled by a parody account, community note to the rescue…
still could have been pretty on brand for a representative's outage content creation team to not know how to correctly schedule a tweet :)
still could have been pretty on brand for a representative's outage content creation team to not know how to correctly schedule a tweet :)
Rep Jack has fooled me more than once!
that's a great one to read the comments on
this response killed me to this
Rep. Jack Kimble@RepJackKimble
It’s strange now how I’m suddenly the bad guy for posting my debate response a bit early. I’ve been scheduling my Tweets about the White Sox losing all season at least this far ahead of the ballgames and nobody ever complained
that's a great one to read the comments on
this response killed me to this
Rep. Jack Kimble@RepJackKimble
It’s strange now how I’m suddenly the bad guy for posting my debate response a bit early. I’ve been scheduling my Tweets about the White Sox losing all season at least this far ahead of the ballgames and nobody ever complained