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dukelemoyne.bsky.social
Umm...
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I've never had an overt interest in guns, but I foresee the need to protect us from the ones who voted this bullshit into our lives.

Trump is a pathological fuck. Vance is a bitch. I hope I live to see them wail.

You voted for him. Fuck you.

Stole a candy striper's stethoscope and listened to my stomach. Our guts sound like a slippery factory. Not recommended.

For the love of all that is not Musk, get yer shit bought and shut that shit down by 12:00 am, Feb 28.

The spiritual hero of my youth was Father Frank Scott, as portrayed by the cooler-than-hell Gene Hackman.

* Pundit with Telecaster on his wall outlines budget problems* Me: His action is too high.

Life is replete with suffering; it is unavoidable. But so much NEEDLESS suffering could be alleviated, at no hardship to the people holding the purse strings. Human beings are fascinating.

Words I survive by: "I laugh that I may not cry." - some TV doctor in the 1980s

From now on, prehistory will be taught as "Back in the Flintstones' Days."

I dunno if it's just me, but I seem to vacillate between jaw-dropping wonder at the glory of creation, and gut-wrenching disappointment with our role in it.

Blend English and foreign words to create your own importmanteaus.

This is the time for serious people with serious concerns and no time for jokes to please vacate the internet. Things about to get bull-goose crazy here.

@kris-ten-z.bsky.social It's just me, Roger Arnold. Marilyn has not migrated...yet.

most sharks never stop swimming because they are haunted by past mistakes and if they pause for even a moment grief will overwhelm them

we are all so lucky to be alive and to be so miserable. cherish every wretched moment my friends

Mama Bear: Ok but last time Papa Bear: Thanks, babe [she puts on a Goldilocks wig] Mama Bear:I can't sleep here. It's toooo hard

Oh wow, Dr Doolittle could talk to animals? Big deal, so can I [sees a dog walking down the street] hey what's up chief

roses are red grandmas love bingo the neighbors are stuffy their yard needs a flamingo

I'm the only one actually printing out my posts and nailing them to the center of town.

Gosh, I remember when we had an actual president instead of a loudmouth bully who won't take responsibility for his actions.

ripped jeans are fun until your thighs are bustin’ out when you sit down

@maryasummers.bsky.social Hi, lady. It's Roger Arnold from Facebook. Duke Lemoyne is my Blues alias. FYI, bc I use it all over sm.

It’s Monday. This was the day Henry Kissinger and I would pull on our racquetball gear, pile in Lincoln, and play one game before heading straight to Bennigan’s for all-you-can-eat shrimp. They weren’t even open. We’d find it in the dumpsters out back. But it was an adventure. I miss my best friend.

In all my years of living in New York City, I’ve learned nothing can stop this town except for a light drizzle.

‘Tis the season to wrap objects in colorful paper with the fine motor skills of an inebriated T-rex.

Just took a dump without my phone to get a better sense of how Abraham Lincoln lived.

Immortality sounds like the worst thing ever.

Saw a young woman on the train today carrying her iPhone without a case and stuffed into the back pocket of her jeans. Not even a Navy SEAL walks around with this kind of confidence.

it’s friday the 13th so go wash your butt for good luck

When I was about 3-4, my grandma got new curtains & to deal with what I felt was a major life disruption, I stopped using the bathroom & then stopped eating/drinking to keep from going, so nothing went in & nothing came out for a couple days. This is my origin story.

Edward Scissorhands: this sucks Gary Dildofeet: oh BOO HOO

White Christmas playing, and I am whelmed by the dissonance. Angry.

Went to the dentist today and promised him I would do a better job flossing. Hahahaha. I live in a house of lies.

Yeah, I live dangerously. I’m eating tomato soup while wearing a white shirt.

i have a lot of yellow in my life for someone whose favorite color is not yellow

I keep coming home, thinking I’ll walk in and find Henry Kissinger there in his boxers, drunk, covered in mayonnaise and watching “Perfect Strangers” like he always did. But angels don’t just fall from the sky. Cherish your loved ones.