pooh's adventures in: where the dead go to die

You never know what color pallette someone's Tumblr is till ppl are screenshotting posts and tags

Oh wow.

Some people on tumblr are reading ancient scrolls and you'd never know

The year is 2015, you wake up at 2pm and rush to your computer. Your friends are on skype! You message your skype group and say “dgdjfgdfg GOOD MRONGING I OVERSLEP TGDFG”, all your friends reply with a keysmash. They update you on what happened while you napped, two of your mutuals got called out for kinstealing. Tsh- not like you’re surprised. Even if they tagged as “not kin or id”, you knew they were reblogging too much chrom art for them not to be kin. Your friends quickly send you the callout post link and you scroll through it hastily. Looks like they also stole their mutuals theme layout. You close the callout and open tumblr.com, you recently changed your url from bpdayato to ayato2 (score!) and need to reblog the notice post again for your mutuals who may not have seen. You have one new ask! You open your inbox to read it. It says- “were u tumblr user schizogod.” …you delete the ask. You know if you say yes they will bring up old callouts, but that’s not important- your friends just sent you a rabbit invite and you’re going to watch darkweb videos!

is this like satire or did you guys actually live this

on my "don't walk to metlife" post I kept seeing people say that drivers would "bergentruck" pedestrians on the turnpike and it turns out that that's a reference to an Undertale meme where a character purposefully runs over people, but the portion of the jersey turnpike that goes to metlife is bergen county, and I had just instantly accepted that there was a term specifically referring to jersey drivers from there. I didn't even question it. Neither would you, if you had ever driven there.

fiction can be really dangerous there might be a deeply tragic woman in there who starts living in your head forever

the reason usa birth rates going down is because we have a whole generation of women whose sexual awakening was Sans undertale and none of the men want to wear jorts and drink ketchup and go Er er er