job hunting is a cthonic torment that never quite took off in the bowels of hell, luckily anguish speculators are always buying up cheap excess and dumb questions are easy to package into bonds that massively balloon their value. before the turn of the millennium “how many years of cheese experience do you have” would be a practically worthless question, but in the dystopian future of the dissolving present, providing the right answer (or a believable lie) may be the difference between meager sustenance and dying in the death rays our energy companies charge you to avoid.
I think when they made rouge the bat they just had the concept of “what if we took one of our trademark funny little guys and just made one of them cunty as fuck”
i saw a really cool butterfly expert man on PBS and was so in awe of him and his butterfly knowledge i tracked down the episode online to see how to spell his name and found his twitter and followed him, only for the next day to awaken to him having read not only my webcomic, but also my livetweets saying how i wanted to marry the butterfly man. he said he was flattered. anyway the moral of the story is please don’t underestimate how far down your twitter a bored entomologist will scroll, and also the internet was a mistake.
I could function in a society that had an actual nightlife that isn’t synonymous with just clubbing. Where are the night markets what if I want to go to the library at midnight
