Shortwave eroticism.
Shortwave eroticism.
And that’s not even taking into account the miseries of:
1: Fighting with insurance to let you have what you desperately need at a price that wouldn’t bankrupt you.
2: Fighting with your pharmacy over prescription issues.
3: Dealing with sudden nationwide shortages.
Fuck…
I don’t care how old this image is or how many times I’ve seen it…
Every single time, I end up feeling better. Instant mood boost. I hope it never stops getting posted.
I’ve been using VR lately for this purpose. Surprisingly effective.
I dunno. Just helps to isekai myself to a different plane of existence for a little while.
Jon Benjamin essentially does two voices.
1: Jon Benjamin voice. 2: Jason.
Take her to paladinner and a movie?
(Sorry.)
It can be a pretty miserable cycle.
1: Have a job that barely keeps you financially above water, while consuming all of your time, energy, motivation, creativity, and capacity for joy.
2: Lose it.
3: Spend every moment not enjoying your newfound free time due to…in no particular order…struggling with poverty; struggling with guilt, depression, and general self-loathing; jumping through hoops fighting an unemployment system designed to make you give up (especially if you live somewhere extra shitty) ; spending countless hours revising resumes and mass applying to jobs to no avail; being too poor to do anything and barely seeing your friends; trying to keep food in your kitchen…and so on.
I’m so tired.
I honestly think this makes a pretty good fit.
Castlevania’s flashy, ornate aesthetic and over-the-top dramatics could transition nicely to the stage.
Like, imagine the WHAT IS A MAN monologue being belted out from centerstage under a spotlight and accompanied by organ music.
Dude, yesterday I heard a radio ad promoting “vintage alternative” music and it was fucking “Mr. Brightside” by The Killers.
Vintage.
I wanted to throw my geriatric elder Millennial ass through my windshield.
Maybe they’re just from a sex-positive couple into CGSM.
Ahhhhhh…look at all the blonely bleople…
Ugh, don’t get me started on roommates.
Like, once, they got all paranoid about some supernatural nonsense and poured all this salt on the hallway floor, like in a big stupid circle. Right outside of my door.
Total pain in the ass. Like, I refuse to go out there until they clean that shit up. I physically won’t. I don’t care how long it takes or how hungry I get.
Though I can’t remember the last time I felt hunger…hmmm…
Honestly, it’s been so long I’m not sure I can even differentiate anymore.
Hank Hill voice:
“Just look at it, Bobby. It’s got-dang beautiful, I tell ya h’wat.”
Neigh? Nay.