i really wonder what Julius Caesar would think of a bunch of neurodivergent rats huddled in a circle chanting ides of march ides of march ides of march and then cheering loudly on the 2067th anniversary of his assassination?
gordon ramsay: fuck me, is that a fucking past version of myself? from before i tried the main course? waiter: side effect of the house’s special sauce, sorry sir gordon ramsay: jesus christ now he’s coming over here gordon ramsay: who the fuck are you, why do you look like me gordon ramsay, ignoring gordon ramsay: god damnit, this obviously didn’t happen in my original timeline waiter: sometimes the chef doesn’t put enough tomatoes and the time loop isn’t perfectly stable gordon ramsay: not perfectly stable love? i know this isn’t your fault but this is a fucking paradox! my past self is obviously not going to have the sauce in the first place now, and this version of myself will never come to be! it’s unsanitary! please bring the chef here i need to have a word with him both gordon ramsays, in perfect unison, looking at the camera: bloody hell, my notions of causality crushed and for what, some soggy fucking pasta?
workplace comedy sketch where a nuclear power engineer and a paranormal investigator get their equipment mixed up and go to their respective jobs unaware of the difference
nuclear plant engineer: guys i think the reactor core’s haunted
nuclear plant foreman: what?
engineer: *holding up the screaming spirit box* reactor core’s haunted
[meanwhile]
paranormal investigator: so the good news is, your problem isn’t ghosts
family who recently purchased an apparently haunted house: oh that’s great! what’s the bad news though
paranormal investigator: well. uh. let’s see. how much do you know about the chernobyl disaster.
