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Cake day: March 10th, 2025

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  • The Poutine accord: Hereby written and to be enshrined into law and agreement: upon the rescission of tariffs previously imposed by individual-1 and a public apology, Canada hereby announces it’s intention to restore fair market to all previously limited American products and make available upon the fulfillment of the following condition: Ingesting no blood control medication or compounds designed to aid in the ease of digestion or control levels of cholesterol, individual-1 agrees to, upon witness by present representative of Canadian government and the livestream thereof, consume no fewer than 8(eight) servings of Poutine a day, each serving weighing no less then 330 grams (or 2 pounds, if you insist on using imperial measurements.) This condition will apply until the length of time elapses equivalent to the length of time between when the excessive tariffs were enacted until the time of their removal.

    In the unlikely circumstance that a serving is not streamed for viewing a recording of the event will be accepted as long as the Canadian representative is visible in the frame and there is irrefutable proof of the current date provided. Should these criteria be unable to be met also acceptable is doubling either the (a) serving size of the remaining servings constituting the remainder of the agreement of the (b) amount of servings per day.

    The undersigned parties agree to stated terms fully and without reservation.

    X______________________________________________________________

    X______________________________________________________________




  • you write a book that gets turned into a movie, help draft the most optimistic plan for turning a reasonable functional democracy into a dictatorship, rock eyeliner at least as well as any 80’s glam-rock start, but you fuck one* couch, and that’s all you’re remembered for.

    • well, you know, the ones in the furniture store didn’t count, and the futon was technically a futon, and I was genuinely concerned that I’d be maimed by the recliner, and when I was drunk didn’t count, and beanbag chairs are barely even a chair…