Where are you sitting?

I used to go online on my laptop while in bed as recently as a week ago, but ever since I did some major spring cleaning I now surf on a computer table.

At work, I just have a cubicle.
 
I used to go online on my laptop while in bed as recently as a week ago, but ever since I did some major spring cleaning I now surf on a computer table.

At work, I just have a cubicle.

Were you cleaning and realized, "Oh snap! I got a computer table?!"
 
Ever since we got our laptop, I've been interwebsurfing up in my room rather than at our previous computer space. This is my living space, photos taken clumsily with my laptop's webcam. Notes provided.

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My life is an enormous mess.

This is my chair. I used to have a different one that was crap, but then I got this for Christmas. It's inproportionately nice looking in comparison to the rest of my room and not actually very comfortable.

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Chair shortage, my ***, there's a chair right there! There is no chair shortage, you people just refuse to sit on them! I swear to god, I'm going to tear this conspiracy wide open.
 
I find it somehow shocking that you keep pr0nz. I always thought you were some kind of evolved post-human adolescent being that does not pr0nz.
 
I find it somehow shocking that you keep pr0nz. I always thought you were some kind of evolved post-human adolescent being that does not pr0nz.
It is evolved post-human adolescent pr0nz. Don't tell the cops!

The harddrive is actually generally for my ever-expanding collection of illegally obtained musics, but there's still plenty of space for pr0nz.
 
It's certainly one of the thousands of reasons that none of you should ever procreate.

I think you mean none of YOU. I'm the only normal one here.
 
You're a letter that has achieved sentience. There's nothing normal about that.

You are moldy milk that has achieved sentience, and one that may or not be owned by or related to a fast food restaurant. You have no room to talk.
 
You are moldy milk that has achieved sentience, and one that may or not be owned by or related to a fast food restaurant. You have no room to talk.
I am a being comprised entirely of sarcasm, pettiness, and delicious cheesey goodness. And I no longer have any affiliation with a certain megalomaniacal fast food juggernaut.
 
I could raise a kid ten times better than you could ever hope for.

I would be insulted by that if I didn't know better - that you secretly love babies and kids and this is a pathetic attempt to covertly obtain one.
 
I'm on my couch watching MAN VS. WILD (Outback episode), so far Bear has drank his own pee, and eaten a spider.

EDIT: Now he grabbed a snake for no real reason.
 
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