GYSO Reviews Part 23 - Our Relationship

Published: 2023-09-24

The Good

Tim: I’m so tired. The dogs are barking outside my window and my nose is staging a revolt from my face.

Thor: Hang on honey, let me get that booger out of the corner of your mouth. Yes, we’ve known each other for 90+ years now. No, that doesn’t make this any less awkward.

Tim: So what are we going to do with this post, Thor? It was your idea.

Thor: Oh my god, aren’t you going to say something?

Thor: Holy shit, then you go ahead and write something before the text that just wrote, except it happened chronologically after I wrote it? I just came up with a funny title, why don’t you, you know, write the fucking blog post with me?

Tim: No no this is great keep going.

Thor: …

Thor: I ran out of steam to push that issue just now. Myabe I just like you that much.

The Bad

Tim: One in one in a quarter marriages implode. The rest of them chug enough bullshit and rationalization to feed a politician.

Thor: That’s factually incorrect, but I empathize with your resentment.

Tim: You’re so understanding thanks.

Thor: I mean, just look at us. Just your regular washed up power couple, tired from partying away our youth, wondering if we should have spent our time on some more meaningful activities…

Tim: If we can be real for a sec. If we push away the whole ‘not actually a couple thing’ this could be highschool sweehearts past their prime.

Thor: We’re like 15 years old.

Tim: Speak for yourself old man. My prime was at age 11 when GYSO was a young egg in the incubator.

Thor: Fair enough, sometimes I forget things. I blame it on the early onset memory issues. Also the completely nonsensical shift in conversations.

Tim: And… not the chronic severe sleep deprivation?

Thor: You’re the one suffering from sle

eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep

deprivation (pronounced deprivation, like ‘aviation’).

Tim: He fell asleep folks. I cut down the ‘e’ spam in post so you don’t have to break your finger scrolling.

Thor: I still write ‘m’ as template text from that time bots invaded our favorite MMORPG spamming the letter ‘m’ in chat. It was the largest character available to fill the space on the screen.

Tim: It was capital M you fool. Dunderhead. Baka. It’s not like I care or anything.

Thor: THUNDERHEAD. THIS TUESDAY, TUESDAY, TUESDAY. ONLY AT SEATTLE, JOHN’S LITTLE CEASAR’S PALACE PIZZERIA. STARTS BEFORE YOU WAKE UP AND ENDS RIGHT AS YOU PULL UP TO THE PARKING.

Tim: THUNDERTHOR. THUNDERTHIGHS.

Thor: To be fair, the first one was an internet alias for while for me, and the other is like a pretty funny guy on TikTok. Or maybe he franchised the concept, I have no idea what you guys do there across the pond.

Tim: War crimes.

The Everything Else

Aaaand now because we’re bored we’re going to do the ‘he writes one word and the other guy writes one word repeat’ thing again for like the fifth time. There’s a rule for this one tho, instead of it being barely contained chaos, we’re going to try our damnest to make it make sense. Stop fixing the words Thor!
Sorry.

Running in circles, but this crazy girl won’t stop texting the sheriff nuclear launch codes. The thing is, we can’t figure out where she is getting them from. We investigated the strange messages and located the source code from the Ohio Police.

Interviewing the local fauna, vegetation, and gorillas yielded amazing footage for our ASMR side-gig. Meanwhile, the actually important clues were locked in a locker, located locally: Leisurely, lasagna, looped, looped, looped, looped, looped, looped, drop-kicked, fuck. Later, we saw the girl. She was stealing from the Melon fetish.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s art.”

“Damn.”

That’s not all. We chased the girl to the Ohio Police. While they interrogated her, some jerkface dropped the federal acid on the radiating source code radiating radiation.

The Conclusions

The died. Rest in rip. 8/8 you noob. Cope. Ugly seething teeth grinding the. I, Tim, master of seeping into the very fabric of your skin, decided the time of revenge had come ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). Now, back in the 1800s, Thor gave away the nuclear source code to Ohio, thinking it would be safe enough. Clearly, he was stoopid. Dumba rumba, stoopid toopid. Revenge happened. Nothing happened. Everyone died. The died. The died. The looped. The looped. The looped. The END!