Them: You want some Lucky Harms?
Me: What are Lucky Harms?
Them: They're Lucky charms, but instead of being magically delicious, they're magically malicious.
Them: You want some Lucky Harms?
Me: What are Lucky Harms?
Them: They're Lucky charms, but instead of being magically delicious, they're magically malicious.
Do people even like me C A S N O V A
In the heart of a circular, creamy delight, there exists a void, a singular absence that adds to its charm. This hollow space, a perfect round, is a testament to the artistry of nature and man's culinary skills. The hole, a silent observer, bears witness to the transformation of the substance around it, from a liquid state to a firm, yet supple form. It's a silent testament to the passage of time, a symbol of patience and the magic of fermentation. The void, despite its emptiness, contributes to the overall aesthetic, making the slice a visual treat. It's a playful peek-a-boo with the world beyond, a window that adds mystery and intrigue. In the end, the hole is not just a void, but a character in the story of this culinary masterpiece, a silent protagonist that adds depth and character to the narrative. It's a testament to the beauty of imperfection, a celebration of the unique and the unconventional.
For me, the best part of depression is remaining charming around strangers but saving the misery for the ones who love you.
I was reading a book one day, when I suddenly hear a sound. It was the grim reaper. I ignore it and continue reading my book. Suddenly I realized that I was one of the main characters, which, at the end, dies. I used to like fireworks. But I'm dead now. Fireworks like a charm, if you don't mind something a little ghostly. What lies beneath your nose and is being picked on? Your boogers.