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Stand down, men! It's only smooching!

i don't, but if you do i'm here for u



OP did not post pics of Mittens playing with string or otherwise being a goofball. Voted 1.

See a mighty city trampled to destruction! See missiles and atom bombs powerless! See civilisation rioting with fear!


I didn't, but now that you mention it I do get a vagues sense that they're . . . up to something

thank you vanisher and luvcow!

hockey jockey

Manifisto posted:

I didn't, but now that you mention it I do get a vagues sense that they're . . . up to something

Yes... all those fingers huddled in a warm little cavern... plotting...

Courtesy of Manifisto

Twenty Four

I mean, why not gloves?


All ice cream is now for all beings, no matter how many legs.

Twenty Four posted:

I mean, why not gloves?

Gloves require more motor skills to successfully put on.

sig by vanisher

Twenty Four


pixaal posted:

Gloves require more motor skills to successfully put on.

Sure but at least you get to retain like half of those motor skills once they are on!

Then again maybe mittens are a good excuse to be lazy. Someone asks you to do something and you just hold your mitten covered hands and shrug and they nod understandingly and you are off the hook.


mittens are like a household for your fingers and since they’re warmer that way it starts to feel like a home

Dungeon Ecology

yeah sometimes. do they remember last winter? we spent so much time together keeping each other warm, but when things started to heat up too much I had to let them go. i just felt so restricted...

maybe i have comittenment issues...


Time for a little robot chauvinism!

please, that's mr. romney to you


"The next world. The next plane of existence."

i know this may be irrelevant to most, but i recently read this "burning barns" short story by murakami - also made into a movie called burning (2018).

the short story references a childrens story called buying mittens:

"When a cold winter comes to the forest, a little fox awakens one morning to the magic of a first snowfall. His romp in the snow is cut short, however, when his cold, wet paws turn peony colored. What he needs, his mother decides, are "some woolen mittens the size of his little paws."

So begins an overnight journey into a village where humans live to buy a pair of mittens and where, along the way, the little fox learns that people are more complicated creatures than he thought."

super sweet best pal

Oven mitts I can understand but winter mittens? Why not just use regular gloves? Do you not plan on doing anything anything that requires full use of your fingers in the winter?

drilldo squirt

a beautiful, soft meat sack

If you mean the gloves, yes. If you mean the crazy guy who ran a goon guild's spy agency in the most unironic way possible, also yes.



in artic climates you'll want to keep your extremities as warm as possible to avoid stuff like frostbite

otherwise gloves are usually the surperior choice


people with extremely short fingers might want to opt out of the gloves i guess


sparkle sparkle sparkle
this thread should be merged with the Bo Pepper Semi-Annual betrayal thread


There he goes. One of God's own prototypes. Some kind of high-powered mutant never even considered for mass production. Too weird to live, and too rare to die.
Smoke weed every day.

mittens of deceit, woven with lies


*oven mitt laying conspicuously on the counter next to a fresh batch of cookies*

.... I've got my eye on you



I'm a really cool nice dad
I sat down at my desk to write down my musings on mittens. Lacking inspiration, I decided to try them on.
“Silly me” I chuckled to myself as I reached for my pen while still wearing the mitts. I tried to pull them off but it was too late. My amusement became concern as I tried to remove the mittens, lacking the dexterity to claw through the dense insulation and open the straps. I started to panic, realising my grave error.
I ran to the door but the shiny water-resistant outer layer of the gloves slipped off the smooth cylindrical door handle and I knew I was trapped. I tried to call for help but the puffy insulation of the gloves was so cosy and toasty that it muffled my screams.

Not sure if I was hallucinating through terror, I watched as the mittens gradually started to expand up my arm.
“This can’t be!” I wailed hopelessly into the billowing folds of padding that were now engulfing me and filling the room. As I desperately thrashed my arms and legs attempting to swim to some kind of refuge, the reality of the malevolence of mittens dawned on me and while my consciousness withered away, I just had enough time to write on the wall in my own blood:

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