Four reasons to run for the fucking hills

Welcome to something. I’m not quite sure anymore, maybe it’s a blog post on the realization that smirfnoff and Nickleback are the two worst possible ideas when getting your groove on in a Pennywise themed three way between two clowns and a juggalo, maybe it’s a physical alteration between my fingertips and this keyboard because they like the punishment and something else. If you were expecting a cracked like article, no. just… No.

Dear god no.

Instead, what you’ll be getting is a semi related, kinda crappilly written, but more or less funny explanation of reasons to run for the fucking hills when you come to the High Desert. In order to start with a clean slate, and prevent stupid people from becoming slightly knowledgeable in how the ocmments section works, I’ve left the comment section open, because internet comments are like bee stung testicles. They are fucking hilarious until the bees come for yours. If you’re a woman reading this, bee stung nipple holes. you’re fucking welcome for both that image, and the resulting mental feeling.

Kingsly knows. He fucking KNOWS.

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4. The High Desert is a hive minded bastard.

So lets get this out of the way, The High Desert is connected on two fronts, the people who live in the HD and the fucking HD itself. The land itself, in a neurotic paranoid way, is like a creepy, dirt filled uncle that brings slightly useful gifts if you’re not paying attention. Seriously. The land vomits up some many useless pieces of junk on an almost daily basis that I’ve seen a broken Jet ski shell, a busted vacuum cleaner, a torn apart office desk, a bust monitor, a few smashed mirrors, a stuffed rabbit and a creepy five foot tall bear, a broken and gutted old timey TV, a few sleepign bags with no bodies and plenty of ants in them and many many more freakish things. That’s the land part the to two layer hive mind.

The ballons, do you want those?

The second layer of the crazy fun house, is of course, the people who dwell within this magical paradise of burning sun rays, crappy polotics, mismatched couples that look like Master Blaster and his orgre slave man got the horrid idea to manifest off spring and never teach them to not follow in their proud parents foot steps. These people, for the most part, are okay folks. they work hard, they play hard, they wake up hard, and the go to bed hard. they would Die Harder, but Bruce Willis has that part pretty well covered.

Seriously, that balloon, he wants you to have it.

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3 – 1 Seriously, pretty much the balloons.

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