BigJimsWornOutTires
Kraken
- Joined
- Feb 6, 2021
- Posts
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This is the big day, fellers. The Big Eclipse Day. Ugh. I can't wait to tell my grandkids about this many years from now. Ah, yes, I'm documenting every moment. "It was April 8, 2024," I tell the little ones gathered around as their parents hover near the windows watching out for Chinese soldiers and rogue groups. "I remember typing up a thread about the eclipse on this Incel forum called 'Look At Me.'"
A confused six-year-old grandchild questions my misinformation, "Thread? Incel? Look at me? Grandpappy, we got you the medication as mom requested, are you not taking it again?"
"Anyway," I ignore the little smartass and continue my disinformation campaign. "I knew that day was going to be special. Knowing the tens of thousands of retards, those are older versions of yourselves," I scan the grandkids while assuring them of that future reality with raised eyebrows. "I knew there would be lots of content for that day. The roasties will be whores as usual and tease their fans with see thru attire as they babble about the eclipse. I also expected to see comedians make jokes about it because, well, it's funny they had to pay a thousand dollars a night for lodging just to be in the direct path of momentary darkness."
"Charlie spotted!" a family member alerts the house that the Chinese are nearby. "Everyone, get ready!" Quickly, we all reach into our pockets and draw a piece of fabric. We don the bra caps over the back of our heads. Ah, yes, China knows not to fuck with people with tiny hats.
"Grandpappy, what happened then?" a child asks as we patiently wait for the PLA to launch their You Will Comply drones that will encircle the property and demand us to come out with our hands up. Ah, yes, just another day in the Apocalypse.
"Nothing much happened. Because of the massive chemtrails, the millions of older versions of yourselves were robbed of the natural event. Many of them whined about it for weeks."
"Then why the fuck are you babbling about this to us?" the four-year-old asks.
"Because I wrote about this moment many years ago. I'm OCD. I have no choice but to speak about it because of the timeline effect."
A suspiciously a little too dark-to-be white grandchild nudges an object into my arm. I reach down and grab it. It's a bottle of anti-babbling pills.
A confused six-year-old grandchild questions my misinformation, "Thread? Incel? Look at me? Grandpappy, we got you the medication as mom requested, are you not taking it again?"
"Anyway," I ignore the little smartass and continue my disinformation campaign. "I knew that day was going to be special. Knowing the tens of thousands of retards, those are older versions of yourselves," I scan the grandkids while assuring them of that future reality with raised eyebrows. "I knew there would be lots of content for that day. The roasties will be whores as usual and tease their fans with see thru attire as they babble about the eclipse. I also expected to see comedians make jokes about it because, well, it's funny they had to pay a thousand dollars a night for lodging just to be in the direct path of momentary darkness."
"Charlie spotted!" a family member alerts the house that the Chinese are nearby. "Everyone, get ready!" Quickly, we all reach into our pockets and draw a piece of fabric. We don the bra caps over the back of our heads. Ah, yes, China knows not to fuck with people with tiny hats.
"Grandpappy, what happened then?" a child asks as we patiently wait for the PLA to launch their You Will Comply drones that will encircle the property and demand us to come out with our hands up. Ah, yes, just another day in the Apocalypse.
"Nothing much happened. Because of the massive chemtrails, the millions of older versions of yourselves were robbed of the natural event. Many of them whined about it for weeks."
"Then why the fuck are you babbling about this to us?" the four-year-old asks.
"Because I wrote about this moment many years ago. I'm OCD. I have no choice but to speak about it because of the timeline effect."
A suspiciously a little too dark-to-be white grandchild nudges an object into my arm. I reach down and grab it. It's a bottle of anti-babbling pills.
