helloooooooo

**"Take Me to Your Dealer"**
It was just another Tuesday when Carl, the UFO-watching conspiracy theorist with three cats and a tinfoil hat collection, finally got his wish. A spaceship landed in his backyard, right between the garden gnome and his inflatable pool shaped like a donut.

A hatch opened with a dramatic *whoosh*, and out floated a glowing green alien with bug eyes, five arms, and an impeccable fashion sense (he was totally rocking a rhinestone-studded space poncho).

The alien blinked, looked around, then pointed a three-fingered hand at Carl.

"Take me to your dealer," it said in a deep robotic voice.

Carl blinked back. "My what?"

"Your dealer," the alien repeated. "The one who provides you with *this.*" He pulled out a crushed bag of Doritos he'd apparently found in Carl's trash.

"You traveled 12 galaxies... for *snacks*?" Carl asked, incredulous.

"Interstellar munchies, bro," the alien said, now sounding eerily like a college sophomore. "Last time we abducted someone, they gave us Funyuns and anime. Changed our civilization."

Carl scratched his head, then shrugged. "Alright, hop in the pickup. We're going to 7-Eleven."

And so began Earth's weirdest diplomatic treaty—negotiated over slushies, flaming hot chips, and a mutual love of late-night snacks.

Peace was achieved. The aliens never invaded. But Earth's supply of junk food? Never recovered.

Just a university student studying political science at UQ, really interested in learning about the world

I like money

I wanna put truck nuts on my Chicken Jockey

i farted really bad 😔

Mmm well hello there

i cant conceive

Damn I want to start doing some investments

👋 how are you this website seems pretty cool