#food #nostr #healthstr

100000 BLOCK?

Soon

A loser is a person who believes they have no agency to change their situation.

Anytime you think “I can’t” you’re being a fucking loser.

What is a book?

#AskNostr

What is a book?

#AskNostr

Ok, that’s enough for tonight. Good Night 💤😴 🐶

1,000 sats for everyone!

🫡

Nutcraft 🥜󠅓󠅑󠅣󠅘󠅥󠄲󠅟󠄢󠄶󠅤󠅕󠄳󠄺󠅟󠅔󠄸󠅂󠅧󠅓󠅪󠅟󠅦󠄼󠄢󠄡󠅠󠅒󠅞󠅁󠅥󠅒󠅇󠅜󠅥󠅑󠅇󠄺󠅠󠅔󠄸󠄽󠅥󠅉󠄢󠄶󠅪󠅑󠄳󠄩󠄳󠅑󠅈󠅂󠅚󠅒󠄢󠅜󠅥󠅉󠅈󠅆󠅚󠅓󠄢󠄶󠄠󠅉󠅈󠅃󠄲󠅟󠅝󠄶󠅠󠅃󠄱󠄲󠅁󠄲󠅆󠄴󠅧󠅃󠅅󠄶󠄷󠅉󠅈󠄳󠄴󠅠󠄷󠄶󠅘󠄵󠄷󠄶󠅪󠅕󠄵󠄱󠅩󠄽󠅪󠅅󠄥󠄿󠅇󠄶󠅙󠄾󠅝󠅅󠅪󠅉󠅪󠄹󠄠󠄾󠅪󠄽󠄣󠄽󠅄󠄱󠄢󠄽󠅚󠅔󠅝󠄾󠄴󠅁󠅪󠅉󠅚󠅓󠄥󠅊󠅝󠄽󠅪󠄾󠅄󠅗󠄡󠅊󠅝󠄹󠄤󠄽󠅇󠅁󠄤󠄽󠅪󠄽󠄡󠄿󠅄󠅘󠅝󠄽󠅚󠄹󠅩󠄽󠅇󠄾󠅜󠄾󠅚󠄲󠅜󠄾󠅇󠄽󠅩󠄾󠅇󠅂󠅚󠅉󠅪󠄾󠅝󠅉󠅇󠄾󠅉󠄹󠅁󠄼󠅑󠄿󠅤󠅚󠅛󠅏󠄸󠅉󠅤󠅒󠄣󠅦󠅑󠅈󠄱󠅨󠅠󠅘󠅆󠅢󠅨󠄳󠅏󠄝󠅦󠄷󠄠󠄧󠅘󠅟󠄾󠅔󠄾󠅃󠄳󠅔󠄣󠅕󠄲󠅊󠄸󠄥󠅝󠄶󠅛󠅟󠄢󠄶󠅜󠅇󠄳󠄳󠅢󠅇󠅛󠅃󠅆󠄤󠄣󠅄󠅘󠅪󠅈󠄽󠄺󠅨󠄠󠅄󠄝󠄷󠅆󠅉󠄢󠅏󠅦󠅔󠅣󠅊󠄝󠅜󠅂󠅚󠄾󠅊󠄦󠄸󠄾󠅧󠅚󠄹󠅞󠄣󠅂󠄨󠅝󠄶󠅪󠅇󠄳󠄴󠅒󠅩󠅇󠄷󠅦󠅀󠄹󠅕󠄽󠅢󠄿󠅜󠅏󠅁󠅕󠅟󠄹󠅀󠅅󠅃󠅨󠄶󠅆󠅟󠅄󠅈󠄹󠄝󠅉󠅗󠄧󠅪󠄣󠅘󠄾󠅚󠅗󠅀󠅥󠄠󠅤󠅙󠄢󠄶󠅩󠅇󠄳󠄴󠄾󠅏󠅙󠄹󠄻󠄵󠄤󠄢󠅂󠄶󠄷󠅖󠅚󠄡󠅉󠅙󠅘󠅆󠄼󠅦󠄺󠄵󠄱󠄨󠅒󠅆󠄤󠅉󠄣󠅪󠅧󠄢󠄻󠄥󠄳󠅞󠅄󠄣󠅒󠄤󠄵󠄴󠅑󠅂󠅘󠅉󠅁󠅂󠅘󠅓󠄣󠅘󠄱󠅉󠅄󠅗󠅩󠅊󠅄󠅉󠄢󠄿󠅄󠅂󠅙󠅊󠄴󠄺󠅘󠄾󠄴󠅂󠅜󠅊󠅝󠅆󠅙󠄽󠅚󠅜󠅚󠅉󠅪󠅁󠄢󠄾󠅄󠅉󠅨󠅉󠅇󠅊󠅙󠅉󠅪󠅁󠄢󠄽󠄢󠄽󠄥󠅊󠅚󠄹󠅪󠄾󠅄󠅂󠅝󠅉󠅄󠄹󠅧󠄾󠄴󠅗󠅨󠅉󠅪󠄽󠅧󠄽󠅚󠄲󠅛󠅉󠄢󠅁󠄡󠄾󠅪󠅛󠄡󠅊󠅝󠅁󠄥󠅉󠅇󠄶󠅚󠅇󠄳󠄵󠄳󠄻󠅚󠄵󠅙󠅙󠅝󠅆󠅥󠅝󠅕󠄡󠅪󠄺󠄳󠅪󠅗󠅪󠅖󠅠󠄶󠄥󠅖󠅑󠅧󠅓󠅄󠄤󠄺󠅧󠄣󠄥󠅝󠅆󠅟󠅠󠄼󠄥󠅂󠄨󠄻󠅕󠄸󠅨󠅘󠅊󠄻󠄾󠅘󠅊󠅆󠅗󠅗󠅜󠄱󠅣󠄽󠄾󠅈󠄥󠅝󠅜󠄤󠅛󠅀󠄠󠄲󠅟󠄤󠅛󠅝󠅛󠄦󠄠󠄻󠄠󠄿󠅀󠅅󠅦󠄢󠄲󠅛󠅟󠄦󠅣󠄴󠅀󠄧󠅊󠅚󠅤󠅄󠅡󠄦󠄾󠅘󠅓󠄡󠅗󠅗󠅀󠅚󠅖󠅥󠄢󠅟󠅪󠄠󠅀󠅗󠅔󠅔󠅊󠄺󠅈󠄸󠅂󠄲󠅅󠄝󠅗󠅥󠄽󠅡󠅊󠅖󠄴󠄺󠅠󠅊󠄸󠅑󠅔󠄿󠅆󠅕󠅪󠄲󠄤󠄣󠄤󠅃󠄡󠅘󠅓󠅜󠅗󠅗󠅗󠅞󠅔󠅅󠄴󠄡󠅡󠄴󠄨󠅛󠄱󠄾󠄹󠅧󠅪󠅊󠅃󠄠󠅧󠄺󠅀󠅡󠅣󠄺󠅃󠅑󠄣󠅥󠄤󠄱󠅁󠅪󠄸󠄠󠅄󠄠󠄝󠅓󠅇󠄩󠅠󠄸󠄢󠅚󠅉󠅇󠄵󠄲󠅉󠅈󠄾󠄤󠅁󠄴󠄲󠅚󠄽󠅚󠄹󠄢󠄽󠅄󠄺󠅘󠄾󠅪󠅉󠅩󠄾󠅝󠅅󠄢󠅉󠅚󠄱󠄣󠄿󠄷󠅅󠄢󠅉󠅚󠅘󠅙󠅉󠅚󠄾󠅘󠄾󠄴󠅗󠅨󠄿󠄷󠅉󠅧󠄿󠄷󠅂󠅙󠅊󠄴󠅘󠅜󠅊󠄴󠄵󠄤󠄾󠅚󠅉󠅩󠄾󠅚󠄺󠅚󠄾󠄢󠄾󠅚󠄾󠅪󠅓󠄢󠄾󠅄󠅛󠄤󠅊󠄷󠅁󠅪󠄽󠅪󠅆󠅙󠄽󠅪󠅜󠅘󠅉󠄡󠅗󠅘󠄱󠄥󠅧󠅤󠄽󠅏󠅪󠅁󠅆󠄨󠅢󠅓󠅥󠅪󠅅󠄱󠅗󠄳󠅡󠅦󠄲󠅟󠄠󠄼󠅂󠄠󠄶󠅊󠅛󠄧󠄷󠅑󠄷󠄻󠄸󠅏󠅦󠅚󠅢󠄽󠅣󠅓󠅑󠅝

Joseph "Flyover Joe" McCready was born under the endless skies of Nebraska, where the horizon stretched wide and the only thing louder than the wind was the hum of his trusty 1962 Piper Pawnee.

A third-generation crop duster, Joe lived for the thrill of swooping low over golden fields, the roar of his plane’s engine drowning out the monotony of small-town life. With his weathered aviator cap, a perpetual squint from years in the sun, and a grin that said he’d seen it all, Joe was a local legend—equal parts daredevil and dreamer. He’d tell anyone who’d listen that the sky wasn’t just a job; it was a frontier waiting to be explored.

One crisp October morning in 2023, while dusting a cornfield near the Platte River, Joe spotted something strange: a shimmering ripple in the air, like heat waves off asphalt, hovering just above the stalks. Most folks would’ve turned tail, but Joe? He gunned the throttle and flew straight into it. The world twisted, the sky fractured, and his radio crackled with static as the Piper Pawnee punched through a wormhole into a parallel universe.

He emerged over a surreal landscape—jagged purple mountains, twin suns blazing, and a sprawling alien city under siege. Below, a race of humanoid creatures with iridescent skin fought desperately against an invading army of grotesque, insect-like aliens called the Xyrk. The Xyrk were relentless, their chittering hordes tearing through defenses with razor-sharp claws and acid-dripping mandibles. Joe didn’t know where he was, but he knew trouble when he saw it—and he wasn’t about to let some bug-eyed freaks ruin anyone’s day.

Landing on a dusty plateau, Joe met the locals, who called themselves the Lyrani. They were outgunned and losing hope, their weapons useless against the Xyrk’s armored hides. Joe, ever the problem-solver, inspected a fallen Xyrk corpse and noticed something odd: a puddle of syrupy goo from a Lyrani breakfast cart had seeped into its exoskeleton, dissolving it into a sticky, flattened mess.

Turns out, the Xyrk had a fatal weakness—maple syrup, a substance unknown in their world but lethal to their biology.

With a wild glint in his eye, Joe hatched a plan. He retrofitted his crop duster’s tanks, swapping pesticide for gallons of pure, Grade-A maple syrup he’d miraculously brought along (a gift from a Vermont buddy he’d stashed in the cockpit). The Lyrani helped him rig the plane with extra sprayers, turning the Piper into a flying weapon of mass pancake-ification.

Joe took to the skies, weaving through alien anti-aircraft fire with the agility of a barnstormer, dousing the Xyrk army in sticky doom. One by one, the invaders shrieked, melted, and flattened into steaming, syrup-soaked pancakes, their reign of terror ending in a breakfast-themed apocalypse.

The Lyrani hailed Joe as their savior, offering him riches and a throne. But Flyover Joe wasn’t one for fanfare—he tipped his cap, fired up the Pawnee, and flew back through the wormhole, emerging over Nebraska just as the sun dipped below the horizon. The ripple in the sky vanished behind him, leaving no trace of his wild adventure.

Back home, Joe hung up his wings, trading adrenaline for tranquility. He bought a quiet farmstead in the Sandhills, where he raises billy goats with names like “Syrup” and “Wormhole Willy.” On clear nights, he sits on his porch, sipping coffee and staring at the stars, wondering if the Lyrani still tell tales of the crop duster who turned an alien war into a pancake party. Locals swear they’ve seen him grin at the sky and mutter, “Ain’t no field I can’t dust.”

And somewhere, in a parallel universe, a stack of Xyrk pancakes sits as a monument to Flyover Joe—the man who flew through a wormhole and syruped his way into legend.

Hey! First post on Damus/Nostr. Not sure if I’m using this correctly or using it to its full potential but let’s see what happens!

#introductions

#meme #memes #memestr #plebchain