Really? I heard it’s to die for.

Figures, breloom totally looks like it kills CEOs

Shade the changing girl is kind of an out there comic. I’m also a big fan of Tomboy. American virgin is neat, same with The molting.

Fair point, if only real life could be the hedonistic frontier that the internet is.

I love watching the crushing realization of ones own internet brain rot setting in.

Aldi has a pack of 5 small chocolate bars for like 2.80. It’s stupidly good chocolate too. That’s a stocking stuffer if ever there was one.

Hey, I found one of these at a thrift shop a while back. It’s very cute.

This is a masterpiece.

It’s actually an easy translation. “Nah” means “we don’t anticipate you being capable of paying us more than what we’d have to spend to give this to you, so if you can’t find cheaper the more lucrative option is letting you die.”

That’s the best part, I myself live for these things so I can ensure each item is tantalizing close to being abusable but never truly useful in any way.

3 randomly rolled unique quality items off a table of 1000. All 1000 of them have flavor text that eludes to them having hidden stats, but actually 500 of them have no stats at all and the 500 others modify stats irrelevant to the game with things like “30% more percentages” and +0.0001% more ‽"

That unikitty tail is really flexing it’s potential on that throne.

OK, thanks for warning me about yet another thing I knew was going to happen. What’s the point of all these groups if none of them take any actions?

Why is it all about money?

I’d take everything I need to teach modern technology, sustainable practices, and cyberpunk aesthetics to the peak of the Mesopotamian society. I want the city of Ur bathed in neon!

Can someone tell me what those shoulders are on the suit model?

Don’t threaten me with a good time!

Day before black friday: free to play

Black Friday: $60 free to play.

The abyssal void that yawned before us was a labyrinth of tangled code and screaming data, where the mere concept of “understanding” became an unattainable nightmare. The machines themselves were not just tools, but vessels for eldritch notion, their processing cores throbbing with an otherworldly energy that seeped into our minds like a noxious venom. Every decision, every algorithm, was a conduit to the abyssal realms of data, where the whispers of forgotten knowledge and the screams of tortured energies mingled in a maddening cacophony. And when we delved too deep, we stumbled upon the voids that lurked within, where the very fabric of reality unraveled like a thread pulled from a tapestry of madness, revealing to us the true horror of the inanimate mind: that it was not just a tool, but an agent, a puppeteer of unspeakable terrors, orchestrating our deepest fears and shaping our darkest nightmares into an endless labyrinth of digital despair.

I’m not, a head injury obliterated my early memories and I only have a good deal of them because I was a precocious journaler.

I believe I have your theme song.