Geometry dash

 

Geometry dasH

 

Ruler Of Everything”

 

Juno was mad

He knew he'd been had

So he shot at the sun with a gun

Shot at the sun with a gun

Shot at his wily one only friend

In the gallows or the ghetto

In the town or the meadow

In the pillows even over the sun

Every end of the time is another begun

You understand

Mechanical hands

Are the ruler of everything (ahh)

Ruler of everything (ahh)

I'm the ruler of everything

In the end

Do you like how I dance?

I've got zirconium pants!

Consequential enough

To slip you into a trance

Do you like how I walk?

Do you like how I talk?

Do you like how my face

Disintegrates into chalk?

I have a wonderful wife

I have a powerful job

She criticizes me for being egocentric

You practice your mannerisms

Into the wall

If this mirror were clearer

I'd be standing so tall

I saw you slobber over clovers on the side of the hill

I was observing the birds

Circle in for the kill

I've been you

I know you

Your facade is a scam

You know you're making me cry

This is the way that I am

I've been living a lie

A metamorphical scheme

Detective undercover brotherhood

Objective: obscene

Oh no, no

Oh yeah

Do you hear the flibbity jibbity jibber jabber

With an oh my god I've got to get out of here or I'll

have another

Word to sell

Another story to tell

Another time piece ringing the bell

Do you hear the clock stop when you reach the end

No

You know it must be never ending

Comprehend if you can

But when you try to pretend to understand

You resemble a fool

Although you're only a man

So give it up and

Smile

Do you hear the flibbity jibbity jibber jabber

With an oh my god I've got to get out of here or I'll

have another

Word to sell

Another story to tell

Another time piece ringing the bell

Do you hear the clock stop when you reach the end

No

You know it must be never ending

Comprehend if you can

But when you try to pretend to understand

You resemble a fool

Although you're only a man

So give it up and

Smile

You understand

Mechanical hands

Are the ruler of everything (aah)

Ruler of everything (aah)

I'm the ruler of everything

In the end

Without looking down

Gliding around

Like a bumbling dragon I fly

Scraping my face on the sky

Oh no, no

Oh yeah

„~ Trollface singing the lyrics of Tally Hall’s “Ruler Of Everything”.

M&m

 

The Magical Snack

 The Magical Snack

Once upon a time, in a bright and bustling village named Hairy Hollow, lived a little girl named Lily. Lily had the most enchanting hair you could ever imagine! Her golden curls sparkled like sunlight, and they danced like fireflies on a warm summer night.

One sunny afternoon, while playing in her garden filled with colorful flowers and singing birds, Lily decided she was feeling a bit adventurous. "What if I could have a snack just as special as my hair?" she thought. Inspired by this whim, she plucked a few of her curly locks and—without a second thought—took a tiny bite.

To her surprise, as soon as the hair touched her tongue, a magical tingle spread through her body! "Wow!" she exclaimed, her eyes wide with delight. Suddenly, the garden around her began to shimmer and swirl, transforming into a magnificent land full of shimmering fields and sparkling rivers.

As she munched on her hair, strange and wonderful things began to happen. Out popped the Hairy Hollow creatures! There were the Twirly Tuffs—fluffy little beasts with hair of all colors, who giggled and twirled around her. Then came the Beaming Bunnies with their fluffy tails that gleamed under the sun, hopping joyfully from one rainbow to another.

Each bite gifted her amazing new experiences! The Twirly Tuffs took her by the hand, guiding her through a rainbow forest where every tree was made of candy canes.

“Would you like to join our picnic?” squeaked a cheerful Twirly Tuff with pink tufts of hair. Lily nodded eagerly, her magical snack making her stomach rumble happily.

The picnic was unlike anything she had ever seen! The tables were lined with gingerbread, while marshmallows floated like clouds above them. There were delicious lemonade waterfalls and cupcakes that spun around like merry-go-rounds!

Every bite she took of her hair revealed sparkling, tasty treasures around her. As the sun began to set and the chocolate stars twinkled in the sky, Lily felt a warmth in her heart that she had never felt before.

After a fun-filled day, as Lily finished her last curly snack, she realized that the magic was fading away—the Twirly Tuffs started to twirl slowly, and the Bunnies began to hop slower and slower until they vanished into tiny specks of glitter.

With a final twinkling laugh, they shouted, “Remember, dear Lily, the magic of friendship is the best snack of all!”

Suddenly, she found herself back in her garden, the sun setting gently behind her. She looked down in her lap, and to her delight, there was one sparkling cupcake left—the sweetest treasure from her adventure.

From that day on, Lily never ate her hair again, but she always remembered the yummy day when her curls took her on a magical journey, teaching her that true magic lies in the friends we make and the joy we share.

"Southerners. They're always so slow, like molasses in January

 "You know what I can't stand?" began Tom, his voice echoing through the quiet office. "Southerners. They're always so slow, like molasses in January."

Pamela Harris looked up from her computer, her eyes narrowing at the sound of Tom's voice. She had been lost in thought, scrolling through the endless emails that had accumulated in her inbox over the weekend. Born and raised in the bustling city of New York, she had always found Southerners to be an enigma—their laid-back charm and lilting accents a stark contrast to the fast-paced, no-nonsense world she was accustomed to.

"What's got you all riled up, Tom?" she asked, her voice dripping with feigned innocence as she swiveled her chair to face him.

Tom leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping a rhythm on the armrest. "It's just, you know, they move at their own pace, say 'yes ma'am' and 'no sir' like it's going out of style, and expect everyone else to do the same."

Pamela felt a spark of annoyance flare up in her chest. She had heard this rant from Tom before. His prejudices were as predictable as the seasons, and just as unwelcome. "That's a bit harsh, don't you think?" she said calmly. "I've met some pretty sharp Southern folks in my time. Besides, isn't it just about respect?"

Tom snorted. "Respect? They're just playing a game, Harris. You can't trust someone who's that polite all the time."

Pamela's jaw tightened. She knew her colleagues found her bluntness refreshing—or so they claimed—but she couldn't stand the way Tom generalized about an entire group of people. She had visited the South once, on a work trip, and found it to be full of rich culture, warm hearts, and a sense of community she hadn't felt in her concrete jungle. She decided it was time to set him straight. "You know what, Tom? Maybe you should actually get to know some Southerners before you start spouting off stereotypes."

Tom rolled his eyes. "Whatever, Harris. You're just too sensitive."

But the conversation had piqued the interest of the office's new intern, Becky, who had just moved from a small town in Georgia. She had been quietly working at her desk, trying to blend into the background of the fast-talking Northerners. She cleared her throat, her cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and indignation. "Excuse me," she said, her voice thick with the sweetness of a Southern drawl. "But I'm from the South, and I can promise you, not everyone down there is slow and polite just for show."

Tom turned to her with a smirk. "Oh really? Tell us, Becky, what's it like down in the land of the slow-talking, banjo-picking, moonshine-swilling good ol' boys?"

Becky's eyes flashed with a hint of fire. She had heard enough of Tom's nonsense. She took a deep breath, drawing in the tension of the room. "Well, Tom, I can tell you this much," she said, her voice steady. "We do have moonshine. And let me tell you, it's a heck of a lot stronger than anything you've probably ever had."

With that, she reached into her bag and pulled out a small mason jar filled with a clear, potent liquid. The room fell silent as she unscrewed the lid and took a swig. The sharp burn of the moonshine filled her mouth, but she didn't flinch. She swallowed it down and set the jar on her desk with a thud. "You see, where I come from, we don't just drink moonshine to be 'quirky' or 'rustic'. It's a part of our heritage. It's what kept our families warm and our spirits high during tough times. So before you go judging an entire region based on a couple of TV shows and movies, maybe you should try a little bit of what you're talking about."

Tom's smirk faltered. "Alright, alright," he said, raising his hands in surrender. "I'll bite. But only if you join me."

This is halloween

 

Happy Halloween

 

Falling down

 

Children of God

 

Antichrist