billie joe armstrong is like…the definition of chaotic good. a prime example of this is the fact that one time at a green day concert this guy in the pit was harassing a young girl so billie stopped the show to help her. however, his way of doing so was to jump into the audience, dropkick the guy directly in the face, and then fight him in a crowd of screaming fans
This is missing the best part – when he saw the guy, he tried to be like “Dude, stop” and when the man didn’t stop pushing the girl around he screamed “Fine! You wanna fight? I’ll fucking fight you, then!” and leapt directly into the crowd
as requested 😉
YESSSSS THANK YOU ❤
punk as fuck
i love that they went directly from brawling to playing ‘nice guys finish last’ like was that next on the set or were they throwing shade
in my experience with the three (3) i went to in the surrounding area it was. uh. you know when you step into a place and there’s nothing immediately noticeably wrong but you can just Feel that this is a Bad Space? like the kind of space where if you catch a glimpse of your mother walking down an aisle and turning a corner you know it’s a demonic trick and if you follow her it’ll lead you down a path to a dark space you can’t return from?
or you go in with your friend who’s right next to you but you get a text from them saying “hey i’m in the shoe aisle, you should come here” and you know it’s a trap from the devil? like other things:
only half of the dim, washed out, often flickering fluorescent lights were lit at any given time, usually only every-other set, leaving these valleys of darkness that made entire aisles inaccessible for fear of shadow people latching on to your soul like a dark passenger.
entire sections were just Empty. empty shelves with no product, never any employees filling them up, no boxes waiting to be unpacked, no signs saying what should be there.
no employees at all actually? wandering around the store even though the parking lots were full and you walked in with a group of 20 or so felt so lonely. you could walk the whole place and it was dead silent and the only other “people” around always were several aisles away with their back turned, unmoving. there was always only one cashier and there was never anyone in her line.
there was never any music on or announcements played? another place that does this are all the dollar trees in my area and it gives me anxiety. i feel like i’m being hunted, like i have to hold my breath and listen for the footsteps of beasts in other aisles.
the fitting rooms had a strange, dark energy to them. it felt like if you ever used them, whatever universe you closed the door on would not be the same one you stepped out into when you were done. the washrooms also contained this same dark energy.
passing the employees-only doors felt like wandering too close to a bears den. the glass windows never showed anything going on back there, no racks of product, no employees milling around. it was just pitch black, complete darkness. a hungry void.
leaving a target was the same disorienting feeling as leaving a dark theatre and exiting into the light. sound and colour and feeling rush back in. you feel like you can breathe again. a weight is lifted from your shoulders. you can’t remember any of the time you spent inside the target.
it is my sincere belief that the targets in canada never existed. the storefronts were put up, yes, but the stores themselves were vast empty caverns filled with dark dreams and sinister interlopers. passing through the automatic doors was meant to teleport us to the nearest american location, but something went wrong and we entered an unnatural zone halfway between the upside down and whatever it was that happened in the langoliers.
I was gonna say I’ve not had enough caffeine to deal with this but I feel like there will never be enough caffeine to deal with this.
ok i distinctly remember thinking “but for whose benefit did ultron give himself a fine bootay?” but the porn voice toaster oven is just out of my kink range. i don’t even know what to make of that.
Holster: *downing a whole bottle of vodka* SMH team: chug! chug! chug! chug! chug chug! Ransom: oh damn… Holster: *coughing, lays on ground, rolls over* WHAT ARE THOSE! SMH team: *goes nuts* Shitty: *is the guy in red hat*
picking RPG clothes based on maxing stats instead of whether they match or not
[*rpg music playing as gear gets picked* boss (wearing paper crown): so you’ve finally… arrived… what the hell are you wearing? player character: it’s my ass kicking outfit, bitch!]