⠀⠀⢀⣤⣶⣶⣤⣄⡀
⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆
⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⡟⡗
⠀⠀⠙⠏⠯⠛⣉⢲⣧⠟
⠀⠀⠠⢭⣝⣾⠿⣴⣿⠇
⠀⠀⢐⣺⡿⠁⠀⠈⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⣚⣿⠃⠀‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Deez Nutz
⢀⣿⣿⣿⣷⢒⣢⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣠⣀⣄⣄⠄
⢰⣿⣿⡿⣿⣦⠬⢝⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⠿⠿⠟⠛⠋⠁
⠠⢿⣿⣷⠺⣿⣗⠒⠜⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⠟⠁
⠀⣰⣿⣷⣍⡛⣯⣯⣙⡁⠀⠀⣠⡾⠁
⠀⠨⢽⣿⣷⢍⣛⣶⢷⣼⣠⣾⠋
⠀⠀⠘⢿⣿⣖⠬⣹⣶⣿⠟⠁
⠀⠀⠀⠚⠿⠿⡒⠨⠛⠋
⠀⠀⠀⠐⢒⣛⣷
⠀⠀⠀⢘⣻⣭⣭
⠀⠀⠀⡰⢚⣺⣿
⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡄
⠀⠀⢸⡿⢿⣿⢿⡿⠃
⠀⠀⠘⡇⣸⣿⣿⣿⣆
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⡿⠉⠁
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⡟

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣠⣤⣤⣶⣶⣿⣷⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣤⣶⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀
⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠛⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀
⣠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⢤⣶⣾⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠈⠉⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⠀
⢸⣿⣿⣿⣏⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⢠⣤⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀
⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⡸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧
⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣷⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⣀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⡇⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⠘⠻⠿⢛⣛⣭⣽⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⣿⠏⠀⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠟⠋
⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⠏⠀⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠟⠛⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡿⠿⠛⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⣴⡿⠶⠀⠀⠀⣦⣀⣴⠀⠀⠀⠀
⣿⡄⠀⠀⣠⣾⠛⣿⠛⣷⠀⠿⣦ Ima do 88...
⠙⣷⣦⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠀⣴⣿ You're gonna do 88...
⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⠿⠋⠁ This is the ♥♥♥♥♥♥ ♥♥♥♥.
⠀⣿⣿⣿⠿⡿⣿⣿⡿⠀⠀⠀⠀
⢸⣿⡋⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀
⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀

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Accept my friend request bro

I wish I could give you a gift card, so take this instead 🏅. I’m sorry. I can’t afford a gift card. I can’t afford food. Just yesterday I had to leave home to bury my starving son, Ivan. He got the easy way out, the rest weren’t so lucky. Oh god... I can hear the screams of a man outside our bunker. I can’t help him. None of us can. We can only listen and hope he stepped on a landmine and won’t have to suffer no more. Food rations are short and the radiation seeping from under the faulty door is increasing by day. Branimir and Karima have not returned from the hospital, I fear they never will. Is there even a hospital there anymore? Did it blow up along with the old university in that bombing? What day is it? I’ve lost track of time. Does time even have a meaning in this war riddled wasteland? Oh god, help me, I’m cold....

But anyways I’m going off track. Very nice Profile Bro, Again, I wish I could give you a gift card, but take this instead! 🏅

I used to roll half a bottle of laxative pills into a Crunch wrap supreme and then leave cow pies on peoples door mats. People in my town installed porch cameras to catch the "Phantom S hitter" they said it couldn't possibly be one man, the hits were too frequent and too large. It had to be a whole gang of city punks coordinating and making planned precision strikes. I felt like a god among lesser beings in my town. Every time i was at the local diner and i overheard someone screaming about the black slop they found on their porch i felt powerful and unstoppable. I became too arrogant, started striking during the day. That's when they caught me and strung me up in the streets and hit me with rocks. I barely escaped with my life and i had to leave town. Now after all these years, I'm in a new town and I behave well enough. But I've got this nagging feeling, the urge is back, and I'm starting to think that my new town is about to experience a storm