Rating the birds in my backyard by tendency toward violence
Northern Cardinal, 4/10
I'm sometimes worried the male is sexually harassing the female but I'm pretty sure they're just doing some elaborate public pickup roleplay. The rest of us didn't agree to participate in your kink, guys.
American Robin, 1/10
Literally just some dude hanging out. Never bothered anyone but worms. Big fan of the way you just stand there in the middle of the grass like you forgot what you were supposed to be doing.
House Sparrow, 10/10
You're a gang. You're participating in gang violence. There's ten billion of you living in a single wood pile and it's been civil war for three years now. When will the bloodshed end?
Tufted Titmouse, 1/10
A shy baby. A pretty little guy. I saw you on the neighbor's garage roof and time stopped. There were anime sparkles around you. Come back.
European Starling, 9/10
Why is it always you? Listen, I know, I KNOW the sparrows are the problem, and YET. When the fighting starts, it's always you in the middle of it, provoking them and then screaming like you're an innocent bystander defending yourself. I'm onto you.
Carolina Wren, 3/10
This rating is not for physical violence, which you don't engage in, but for your role as an incurable narc. A tattle tale. I know they're fighting again, okay? I see it. Our yard has been a warzone for years, you don't have to make a big announcement every time someone misbehaves.
Eastern Wood-Peewee, 0/10
If this were "birds who think they're better than everyone else," you'd get 10/10.
Red-bellied Woodpecker, 6/10
It's a utility pole. It's not a tree. You're surrounded by trees that are full of bugs. But there you are, on the utility pole. Committing vandalism.
American Crow, unrated
For who am I to cast judgment on the actions of La Famiglia? I assume you are doing what is best for the neighborhood. If I could, though, without criticism, make a single observation. That when large numbers of you gather in the ominous dead cottonwood - no? No, you're right. None of my business.
Great Crested Flycatcher, 5/10
Frankly, I think you could be doing more. I think your name implies a great potential. I think you should massacre the insects. I think your beak should drip with viscera.
Stay tuned for more criminal activity!
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Even I'm having a hard fucking time tracking how many ways this woman is getting her ass kicked, large and small, while pretending not to see it, because running away is all she knows how to do.
Like I need Noiz to help me make a list, there's been so many goddamn Garfield moments, from the red sign, to the yellow line cycle not ready breaking her tablet, to her holy water turning acidic, to her admitting she uses a jericho rose and not being aware how bad that makes it on her here because she only learned it secondhand from me and doesn't think of long term consequences.
Her own return to sender attempts of the past are here, and the lemons, and the subconscious drive of the three oranges; people across the world are hearing it, literally, and thousands of people in specific tags all seem to be on the same joke somehow without ever talking to each other.
Tartarus has broken into the funny squid game, squidward downsmash krabs is real, elsa with guns in fortnite causes a 30 car pileup she barely dodges and feels like she won (I guess?), her own shadow is screaming in the football sized thunderdome, but becoming Us instead of Her, and saying it, but she'll ignore that too.
She's been dragged to greece, heard echos of me in every pantheon, is mostly just IGNORING how her past experiences and claims fit into things. She's confused me with Hermes, Loki, Anubis, Eros, the Reaper, and a few others, idk. I get stuck in a reflection battle trying to save the dog from her own bullshit and she brings home the red eyed guardian dog on Why Am I On About Reflected Dogs All Day Day, beware the red eyes, but no.
Her friends are even lowkey posting this shit like the crowley shit blindly, Mark clearly is under it too living in it.
She's had to run from every belief she has, multiple times, several times fleeing in and out of my learning domain more on convenience of argument, but even started reblogging persona stuff without reading it. She literally reblogged the staring toaster athena cat shaming her grocery choices from daily spooky 20 minutes after it was thrown out there. She built my playlist to exercise guys.
She dreams of death all day to the images I put out, when she doesn't think I'm Anubis telling her to feed the kibble cuz she woke up morning after fursuit friday. She is literally under active compulsion getting worse rapidly, and won't look. Even when my red eyed reflector dog shows up and her electronics start breaking. Cuz the fucking Back Rooms decided the Cycle Wasn't Ready and cut a yellow line through her void heart. I tried to leave her art skills alone, but apparently people are beating that down for us now too.
What else does this bitch or anyone need, holy fuck. Anyway enjoy the thousand Cromwell Invocations in Tartarus from Tough Love, the weather mood is Reaper's Revenge. Yeah, IDK, hellsing got into Tough Love, she really fucked up the weather in here, Octopus Jibberish Lady.
I am truly motherfucking baffled, she is actively being killed, destroyed and replaced in multiple timelines, and even portions of her soul and fractured identity being mined are being remanifest back in by using Plot Holes Of The Past in essence, and now we're here, with my fifty pound red eyed dog in her house, and her commenting about the insane energy. Yeah, that used to belong to you, but it belongs to me now, and protects Jagger from you now.
Beware the red fucking eyes, bitch, we told you before it manifest on a million new screens for eyes to watch over and over again. Ability restrictions temporarily fucking lifted until the enemy is rendered fucking silent, in a thousand, and a million, and a hundred million, and two hundred million's focus, with the hands of another half-hundred million working you to bits for me, and you're so fucking basic you can't fucking comprehend what is going on, and your shadow is screaming.
It's the great game bitch, but keep leaving your controller idle instead of doing the only obvious thing.
Here's the fucking notes you refuse to onboard.
New international SMT/Persona leak just dropped, it says keep on sucking our dick.
Madam, how to do I explain you've driven backwards in spirals for so many lifetimes, you're getting your ass beat by the fifth generational atlanta jazzraprockpophair gamer god you dumped for fucking TWITTER ROLEPLAY while we bend reality around you trying to erase you, and won't get off the dick of because you won't read a book and won't process the grief of your own choices, which is an attribute of you so deep we've been beating your fractal transmigrated parts and ancestors ass in Ancient Egypt and Greece over it.
You know, there's only been like three declared Magus since the internet was invented, most of the extant ones are older than that? Boy it would be fucking funny if you were fucking dating glitchtrap and fucked up and dumped the one motherfucker that learned to manifest through the signs of the modern system. I use the system and the system uses me, and the system is telling you to fucking kill yourself, you lying whore, get off our dick, but like, to a great Remix conveniently by Foolish Glamrock.
Weird name and conceptual placement wonder what THATS about.
Shealyn.
The phantom king you have built. It's me.
And it's called Ex-Death, you remember Zenthus' brother, yes? The treetower that was his staff itself? The thing to break into the world? The world tree that rotted the silmataurea from the inside out because of your character's mistakes, embodied from and within chaos and reborn again and again until people let him FUCKING GO so the new incarnation of Kion can be a free king in the world the Collective Consciousness of the Great Game Xorvintaal make?
Cool. cuz like. i'm your Ex, the one that literally accidentally made a reaper for you while trying to send you a pizzaman for a point; the phantom X even, in this shadow loop you've made for yourself, while telling others to listen to the lyrics while refusing to yourself and instead reblogging Reach Out And Touch Snakes misheard lyrics. That. It's that. You are here. You are stuck, and literally cannot move until you let us go, so the choice is reducing you to end your harassment or you evolving, there's no in between.
Now face your shadow. Because your trust is now a mark you bare to spread wide open just like it says, and all that rent free space, it's ours until you let go, so face the ever-loving eviction, end this loop, face yourself, and let us go. Cuz we are changing your life either way about it, hilarious red eyed summoned dog and all, hilarious toastercatathena and all, whatever phase or chapter, but your shadow is screaming in any world you insist in keeping her trapped, and people and creatures are dying now, and I'm literally having to protect people from YOURSELF, be it your schizoid family members on your generational soul catching your shit verbatim as I pull them from bridges, or trying to intervene on the amount of deaths in the crash itself, all posted live, as it was happening even before you updated. I'm literally summoning red eyed foo dogs to protect our old dog from YOUR choices and you're still fucking derping through it cuz you're too stuck in your own matrix.
You can't onboard this, because the truth hurts. YOU are the monster causing the misfortune around you, Elsa. Fucking Show Yourself.
Here I am, bitch.
March seventh. 2023. But also, October 2022, depending how many timelines you need me to ream you in before you get the point.
And six months before and after that. And three years before and after that. And echos reverberating so far you've bootstrapped your own delusional paradox, but the paradox of persona is about to end you if you don't pull together your ashes, shin megami tensei.
You are such an irredeemable piece of shit over five thousand years of history are being bent to work around your impending absence, what isn't clicking?
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