covfefe it's always covfefe

Naval 🐐 he's I'm my personal hall of Fame

I don't even know what emoji to reply to this with. I'm kind of shocked the numbers that low. I'm also shocked that we actually get to learn some of this

I don't think I'll ever get tired of staying humble and stacking sats.🧡

Well that's it. I'm off to the store. Thanks for the motivation 🥩🥩🥩🥩

GM

Old man GyM things hot fluffy trucker season is coming 🤣 #gymstr

Where can I find buy me a coffee button?

Coffee 4 value system just might work

Are we doing this Price is Right style?

1 human bob.

Happy second birthday⚡⚡⚡

Oh I will never tell anybody when I make it to the dream but there will be signs 🐕 until 🐕 I continue to grind everyday

May your Thursday be triumphant and you celebrate by petting 🐕

GM update to the sad day to be coffee inside my house. Tiny ice balls of Doom outside my house. Now I can safely go to my car and go gym #coffeechain #proofofwork

GM Tiny overnight ice balls of Doom your time is numbered. Once I'm done with this coffee, you shall be removed from all walkways prepare to meet your end #coffeechain

I didn't know I needed a pair of indestructible gym shorts until now

Stop I'm already a fluffy trucker. That looks delightfully delicious!

Probs hangout at different places this sounds creepy to me

GMeow breakfast looks great I need to come visit someday 🤤

Because this

The Curious Case of Ye Cursed Chicken of One Thousand Nine Hundred and Ninety-Two

Hark! Gather ye round, good folk, and hearken unto a most peculiar tale, one that did unfold in the year of our Lord one thousand nine hundred and ninety-two, a year most strange and bewitched, indeed!

In a humble village where great merchants did peddle wares of most wondrous make—ye may know it by its common tongue as "Ye Olde Shopping Mall"—there dwelt a fair maiden, Gwen of House Foodcourt, who did labor at the hallowed establishment of Kentuckie Fried Fowl. Verily, she did serve crispy delights unto the masses, yet lo! There arose a most grievous misfortune upon her watch.

One fateful eve, as the great metal cauldron did bubble with oil hot as dragon’s breath, a single piece of fowl—golden, crisp, and of unknown enchantment—did leap from the fryer and land squarely upon the noble steed of Sir Ronald the Jester (a most feared and painted-faced lord of the rival House of McDonald).

“Zounds!” cried Sir Ronald, his crimson locks flowing wildly as he did flail. “This fowl doth attack me most foully!”

The chicken, possessed of great and wicked spirit, did not merely rest upon his saddle but did dance most maniacally, flipping and tumbling like an acrobat at King’s Faire. It leapt forth, striking yon villagers in the shins, its power unmatched. Women screamed, men gasped, and a child, barely of five winters, did point and cry, “’Tis the cursed chicken!”

Yea, the townsfolk did flee in terror, ere the enchanted fowl did wreak further havoc. And lo, in the end, it was Gwen of House Foodcourt who did step forth, brandishing her mighty slotted spoon, and with one mighty swat, she did smite the demon-nugget into yon fountain of coinage, whereupon it sank, cursed no more.

Thus, peace was restored, and the people of one thousand nine hundred and ninety-two did rejoice, for no further poultry of supernatural origins did arise. And from that day forth, whene’er a nugget doth leap from the fryer, the elders do whisper in hushed tones, “Beware, lest ye summon the Chicken of Chaos once more!”

Now, good gentles, go forth with this wisdom and beware ye all enchanted fowl!

Let's go

Food