Trash Compactor

i think i found my new favorite artist on twitter

- the menu at a restaurant is not an ingredient list you can use to create new dishes we could hypothetically make for you instead of the choices on the menu

- we do not have omelets on the menu because we do not make or serve omelets

- yes, i know we have eggs on the menu, but we still do not have omelets.

- yes, i realize omelets are eggs, but not all eggs are omelets, and the eggs we serve are not omelets.

- you cannot out-logic me so that i cave in and ring in an omelet for you. i am better at arguing than you are.

- there are no omelets here. there have not been, and will not be, omelets here. if you want an omelet you will need to go somewhere else.

- i can also promise that you do not want an omelet cooked by line cooks who have not been trained how to make omelets. because we don't sell omelets.

- no, i am not going to single-handedly put service on pause for the next twenty minutes while three cooks google how to make an omelet and then proceed to fuck up multiple omelets that our kitchen is not set up to prepare, so you can have an omelet.

-and we both know you'd bitch if it takes longer than six minutes to come out anyway.

- no, you may not just go back into the kitchen and make yourself an omelet. the line cooks do not take kindly to trespassing. also, what the hell.

- i hear that you want an omelet. that does not change the fact that we do not offer omelets. if you want to eat an omelet, you will need to go to another restaurant that does have omelets on the menu. this is not negotiable.

- i am the manager.

A Nervous Old Man (right) and his Emotional Support Violence Machine (Left)

Stop. I know you read this title and attempted to turn and flee back out the door. I anticipated this and caught you by the back of your shirt. We need to talk about this now.

If you’re reading this blog, you’re likely Millennial or Gen Z. They’re the largest pie slice of animal lovers—one in three owns a pet. And our attitudes about pets are really intense. Half of us describe loving them more than our own mothers. And all of those pets are doing the absolute worst thing any pet can do: getting old without us.

You likely won’t have experience with being solely, directly responsible for managing a living being’s decline and death. So we’re going to explain what’s gonna happen, and give you our very best insights.

A (Hand-Holding) Guide to the End of Your Pet's Life

I made this transparent PNG the night he died in preparation for one of the many ways I was going to memorialize him--a surface rug in his likeness that I planned on laying directly in the line of his favourite sunbeam. And I uploaded that PNG here, because this is the website where people post their cats.

I was not expecting the reception I got. Many people have pointed out that this post has more reblogs than likes, and how insane that is in 2025 when reblog culture is at an all time low. I didn't even talk about the fact that Burger passed away in the original post, it wasn't a tearjerker reblog bait or anything like that. People just loved Burger that much, in the same way I fell in love with him at first sight. He was such an ugly kitten.

Anyways, it's really special to me that so many people have reblogged my best friend. I made this PNG to memorialize him in a completely different way, and you all wound up doing just that in ways I never even imagined.

Thank you. Wherever he is, I know the sun is shining.

Canon that this man will walk on top your furniture while he rants

.

You are stuck as a soldier in this historical war

(this is a magical universe where people who wouldn't usually be able to fight would. so you can all suffer.)