boooooooooyyyyyyyyyyyyy who dis
hi twimble
U have my friend added so I sign ur ata uh..
Why do u have a massive cult following of people with the same skin as you HELP
Wumb i lov ya gen how do you have so many friends, pls tell me i want friends too
happy birthdayyy 
here's for your birthday from purple guy:
It started at exactly 11:25 AM.
Not 11:00. Not 11:10. Exactly 11:25 AM — the kind of time that already feels suspicious.
The birthday person, which is "you, wumb?" woke up peacefully, stretched dramatically like the main evil being! (mauahuahahaha), and whispered:
“Today is MY day, let's see how things will go..”
Immediately, something fell in the kitchen.
Not a normal "oops" sound either. A loud, metallic, life-changing CLANG.
Wumb sat up slowly.
“…interesting.”
They walked into the kitchen only to discover the toaster had somehow launched bread directly onto the ceiling.
Nobody knew how. The laws of physics refused to comment.
While staring at the ceiling bread in silence, their phone buzzed.
First birthday message of the day.
Excited, they opened it.
It said:
“Hapy birtday”
No second “p.” No “h” in birthday. No punctuation. Just raw emotional damage.
Then another notification appeared:
“omg i almost forgot 😭”
Wumb stared out the window like a war veteran.
Things only got worse from there.
At breakfast, they tried making pancakes. The first pancake looked normal. The second looked nervous. The third somehow resembled a medieval map of Europe.
One pancake slid off the plate and folded itself directly onto the floor like it was trying to escape responsibility.
Meanwhile, the smoke detector contributed absolutely nothing except panic.
BEEP.
BEEP.
BEEP.
Wumb wasn’t even burning anything anymore. The smoke detector just wanted attention.
Then came the gifts.
Gift number one was a hoodie. Amazing. Perfect. Comfortable.
Unfortunately, somebody immediately said:
“omg can i borrow that sometime?”
And just like that, the hoodie spiritually belonged to somebody else.
Gift number two was a mug that said:
“Don’t talk to me until I’ve had my coffee.”
Which felt aggressive considering they didn’t even drink coffee.
Gift number three was suspiciously wrapped. Everybody gathered around.
Wumb slowly opened it.
Inside was…
A single potato.
Silence filled the room.
Finally, someone whispered:
“…it’s symbolic.”
Nobody elaborated.
At lunch, disaster struck.
The waiter arrived carrying the birthday dessert while the entire restaurant awkwardly sang Happy Birthday at different speeds.
One table was ahead. One table was behind. One child was just yelling.
The birthday person smiled politely through the pain.
Then the waiter tripped.
The cake did not survive.
For one horrifying second, everyone watched the slice slide through the air in complete silence.
A nearby pigeon saw its opportunity.
Nobody could’ve predicted how fast it moved.
That bird descended from heaven like a heat-seeking missile and stole half the cake before touching the ground.
The restaurant manager simply removed his glasses and whispered:
“Not again.”
By evening, Wumb was emotionally exhausted.
They sat on the couch wrapped in their remaining dignity and half a blanket.
Then their friend arrived dramatically carrying one final gift.
Everyone leaned forward.
Slowly… carefully… the friend opened the box.
Inside was a tiny plastic frog wearing sunglasses.
The room fell silent.
The friend nodded seriously and said:
“This frog represents you.”
“…why?”
“Because despite everything… you still look kinda cool sitting there confused.”
Honestly? That was the best gift all day.
Then the toaster launched another piece of bread onto the ceiling.
Nobody reacted anymore.
You just looked up slowly and whispered:
“yeah. that feels about right. after all i'm wumb.”
Some visitors never leave.”
