This was no ordinary, ordinary, oatmeal man; no ordinary, ordinary, coffee mop.
What on earth is a coffee mop?
Coffee mop is a phrase often used in social situations to describe people who are so boring that they make other people dislike them, regardless of the actual traits of those people.
i wanna know more about the oatmeal man
He was a dude who liked to hang out in his apartment in nothing but his pants, having what was clearly a sex-positive attitude toward the women in his life – he seemed to believe that his own lack of self-control would give other people no trouble, and his lack of a real job was apparently okay with him – when there came a certain person who showed up to his door, who was, according to a certain friend who was involved, “an angel in disguise, the first true angel in a thousand years,” who introduced herself with “It’s nice to finally meet you, you weird old man” and immediately said “wow, your apartment is such a mess.” The woman’s boyfriend, who had, according to the same friend, “more than once told him he should die,” later called to say that he liked “the kind of women [the woman] is,” and that he’d just seen her “punching this asshole in the face.” And then, apparently, the man was killed.
(He was murdered by a man who was, it turned out, one of many people who had killed many people in other situations over the years. This was not an important enough event to show up in any newspaper coverage I looked at.)
This is a real ‘90s-ass world you’ve constructed here, all slackers and stuff. What was extraordinary about the oatmeal man and the coffee mop?
I’m just tired and in a state of constant crisis due to a number of factors, really
Same
I am sorry, buddy. You know what I have discovered to be a really good coping mechanism? Trolling people on tumblr by making up posts with bad opinions and then pretending to be the person I just made up. My blog is really cool and I’ve got a lot of followers, people will definitely get a kick out of this
THE GATES OF THE STREET WERE OPEN AGAIN; the rain had stopped, and the evening was cold and grey, but that had not stopped the crowds of people, who poured out of the underground, swarming up and down the steps, getting into omnibuses, hurrying through empty streets, laughing and chattering and stamping their feet against the cold. One felt that this was the beginning of some new, fantastic movement of the masses, a movement which had not been seen since the last war, and which was going to end in a new society. And one felt a curious longing to be a part of this movement, as one always does on coming down from the heights of the old, tired movements of the last time.
He sat waiting for the omnibus on a bench in Russell Square. He was not a member of the proletariat, but he was one of the intellectual proletariat, and he was one of those who feel the same revulsion from the masses of the proletariat as a dog feels from the masses of sheep. He had no clear idea of what would come of all this, except that he saw that the movement was revolutionary, and that it was against the government; but he was sure that he would be on the winning side and would do some small thing, probably for freedom of speech or such like. He had a feeling that he was going to do something very important.
Ah, yes, I love this style of activism.
I know, it’s exactly what you’d expect from a dystopian novel by George Orwell
You sit in a lawn chair on your roof, and it’s really cool and you’re a little high because of the nice lawn furniture you got. There are some nice, tall, red-orange trees growing here and there, and the sun is setting. You hear the distant growl of distant cars, and you remember that you have a date. She is here. She is here. It’s nice. It’s really nice. You’re on the roof. The city is down below and you are in the city and you don’t actually want to leave. You remember that she’s down below, and that that is something she would do. It’s really nice. There are nice cars up there. There’s a nice sound. There’s a beautiful sunset, and a nice lawn, and the nice grass, and there’s some nice people up there. You’re not actually sure why you’re on the roof. There’s something about a nice sunset and some lawn furniture. There are nice, tall, red-orange trees growing here and there, and the sun is setting. You’re sitting there in a lawn chair on your roof, and it’s really cool. You remember that you have a date.
It’s really nice. It’s really nice that you remember. You have some nice things, things like memory, and the nice sunset, and so on. What are the nice things? There are nice red-orange trees growing there and then, and the sun is setting, and there is some nice landscaping. There is a really nice sunset, and there is a really nice thing.
“I’m really happy right now,” you say out loud, but you don’t say it to yourself and you’re really not sure you mean it. There are trees, and the sun is setting, and there is a nice lawn with nice lawn furniture.
It’s really nice. And it’s nice to remember that you have a date, and nice to remember that you have nice things, nice things like memory. There are nice things that you have. There’s some nice landscaping and nice landscaping is nice. There is some nice landscaping. It’s really nice. It is really nice.
You have nice things. You have a date. The sunset is nice. The sunset is really nice. It’s really nice to remember, you know, that you have a date. It’s nice to remember that you have nice things, nice things like a nice sunset. You have a really nice sunset, and it is really nice.
There are nice things. It’s really nice. It’s really nice. It’s really nice to remember you have a date, and it’s nice to remember that you have nice things like a nice sunset, and a nice sunset is really nice, and is really nice.
There’s some nice landscaping. There’s nice landscaping, and it’s really nice to remember you have a date, and there’s nice landscaping.
It’s really nice. You remember that you have a date, and that’s really nice. It’s really nice to remember that you have nice things, like nice landscaping. And that’s really nice. There is some nice landscaping, and it’s really nice to remember you have a date, and it’s nice to remember that you have nice things like nice landscaping.
There is some nice landscaping. There is really nice landscaping, and it is really nice to remember you have a date, and there is nice landscaping. There is some nice landscaping, and it’s really nice to remember you have some nice things like some nice landscaping, and it’s nice to remember that you have some nice things like some nice landscaping.
There’s some nice landscaping, and it’s really nice to remember you have some nice things like some nice landscaping, and that it’s really nice to remember that you have a date, and that it is really nice to remember that you have nice things like some nice landscaping. And it’s really nice to remember that you have some nice things like some nice landscaping, and that that’s really nice to remember that you have a date, and that that’s really nice to remember that you have some nice things like some nice landscaping.
You have a date, and it’s really nice, and you’re really happy, but you’re really not sure why you’re on the roof. There’s something about a really nice sunset. There’s something about nice landscaping. There’s something about that. There is something that there is about there. There’s something that there is that’s about there.
Tell me more about the date. How does she compare to the landscaping?
Tags: Friends to Lovers, Love Confession, Mentions of Religion, tagging Major Character Death for God, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, unbeta’d, written before Penis Huggler was canon don’t @ me
Penis Science
It was a cool autumn day in Penis Valley and the trees lining the trail to Penis Galette’s secluded cabin were bright with reds and yellows. Penis Galette was riding his long and thick penis home after one of his grocery runs to the nearby city.
The extraterrestrial had considered moving into the city permanently, to cut down on the time he had to spend driving each week, but he could not imagine any place more homely than his humble abode deep woods of in the Penis Valley. He felt closer to nature here and that always helped keep the existential dread at bay.
Said dread had set in around the time his grandmother had looked him in the eye and said, “God is dead, Penis.” This had shocked the then devout Catholic alien, turned his world upside down and made his penis feel small. But luck was on his side it seemed, and soon after he’d reluctantly begun to view himself as an agnostic, one Baldwin Davenport had stepped into his life.
Baldwin was an earthling, working as a scientist at one of the many not-so-secret secret underground laboratories located in and around Penis Valley. The man was obsessed with “unlocking humanities true potential” as he referred to it, and unlike Penis Galette, had taken the statement “God is dead” as a challenge. If God had vacated his position, it would fall to humanity (or potentially Peniskind) to take his place. Baldwin was currently studying what he called Gold-Eyed Saints, or GES, and he would rave about his work to Penis whenever he found his way to his old friend’s cabin for the occasional beer.
Speak of the devil, thought Penis Galette as he turned the corner to his gravel driveway. Baldwin’s sciencemobile was parked in front of his garage, which was not an issue as Penis always rode his own penis everywhere and rarely had to use the emergency penis he kept in there. He could make out his friend’s skinny form on his porch, stooped over in typical Davenport manner. He should really work on his posture or at least do some back exercises. At this rate he’ll end up developing chronic back-pain.
“Penis Galette, how nice of you to finally show up! I’ve only been standing here for an hour…”
Penis rolled his eyes. “Davenport, you know damn well I would’ve come home earlier if you’d told me you were coming to visit. Did you lose your phone again?”
“I’ve never lost a thing in my life. My phone is on vacation anyways.”
“Do I want to know? No, don’t tell me, I’m not in the mood to listen to you anthropomorphize your phone again.”
[The author is bored and wants to get to the good stuff.]
“I love you, Penis Galette”, he spat, “I’ve always loved you and your gods-damned giant penis!”
It took Penis a few seconds to understand what he had just been told but then he was crashing their moths together so hard their teeth clacked.
“Ah, fuck!” Baldwin pulled back and pressed his hand to his mouth, “I think you chipped my fucking tooth!”
“Oh, sorry. But you’re a scientist, aren’t you? Just grow a new tooth in your eldritch laboratory or whatever!” Penis Galette did not need his attempt at seduction to be derailed by an emergency visit to the dentist.
“Of course I can, idiot! But it hurts like shit…”
“Well then we’ll just have to find something to distract you, won’t we? 😏”
“How the fuck did you just say an emoji out loud, what the hell?”
What followed was very sexy and involved many mentions of Penis Galette’s namesake.
I don’t know much about Penis Galette, but I’ll tell you what, I’m in
this is beautiful
It was a cool fall day in Penis Valley and the trees lining the trail to Penis Galette’s secluded cabin were bright and yellows, and Penis Galette was riding home after one of his grocery runs to the nearby city.
Penis Galette had recently finished his third bottle of whiskey and was feeling very happy and at peace with his existence, the fall breeze playing in his short grey hair and the crisp air in his lungs. He was walking home because he was out of whiskey and didn’t want to walk all the way back to the liquor store.
His penis was still very long but he’d been experiencing some “tightness” and had been taking his pills for it. Penis Galette liked that his pills caused him to feel and do things he would normally be embarrassed to tell his friends about. So he was feeling very comfortable about his penis now, and he’d just seen the tail lights of his friends’ car on the trail ahead of him. He was feeling a little lonely because he hadn’t seen his friends in a while, and was feeling a little sad because he was afraid he might be missing out on some special penis time with them.
But that was okay, he’d been looking forward to getting home and sitting down in front of his computer to write some fanfic. If he were going to be lonely, he’d rather be alone with his ideas and words than with his penis. The two were two very different experiences, he’d always thought.
I have a pretty good imagination and I wouldn’t call it an empty one, but it’s not a particularly well-oiled one, and I can only work really hard when I’m excited about something
(I will have to try though!)
i look forward to hearing the details about your new cryptid
There are a lot of people I could have made up, but here’s a random one
I’m begging you to go into more detail about Penis Galette
It involves a planet, a planet with a large population of humanoid alien men, and several men who are giant penis-shaped aliens. One of these alien men, named Penis Galette, goes around with a spaceship and his giant penis on it and fights giant penis-shaped aliens with giant penis-shaped weapons. And he’s really big. And sometimes his penis is really long and he rides on it through the city and the people like it.
