Crying Over The Pines

Loid Forger is up to his eyeballs in PTSD and masking the hell out of it, gets stress ulcers, and is playing 5 dimensional chess with every interaction, figuring out and counteracting both people's individual and collective motivations and weaknesses. But he's also like "ough how do i maintain a healthy and respectful fake relationship with my beautiful stacked superhuman goddess wife who misses 40% of all social cues and wears backless sweater dresses all the time. This is really tough." The character of all time.

Bear religion probably fucking rocks. You're a fucking bear, you're the deadliest thing on earth, once a year an endless supply of salmon just flings itself up the river to gorge on and then you nap for 3 months.

The most delicious food in the world is protected by tiny demons who can defend it from everyone except you. Your natural armor is thick enough that you can just eat the damn hive while they buzz around you. God's chosen animals right there

love the idea of bears being the chosen species actually. having a near death experience and glimpsing heaven and realising it's just full of bears, no humans at all, humans not ensouled actually, humans an accidental byproduct of God's plan for bears

I don't have time for sex, I'm too busy running a blog that only 11 or 12 people care about

strawberrie... v good fruit

this pride month we’re all going to be radically pro transgender. or else.

hey so this means radically pro ALL transgender. don’t put limitations on this. all trans people are radically accepted here.

i think eventually we're all just gonna have to come to terms with the fact that it's impossible to tell a story with any degree of subtlety or nuance without risking a portion of the audience taking the "wrong message", and that's ok. art isn't meant to be strictly a teaching tool, and if you're goal is just to convince people or critique an idea, just write an essay or a polemic

people taking the "wrong message" from a story isn't a failure of that story, it's a function of art itself

imagining a universe where porn is a marketable genre so you have to deal with raycon ads while trying to jerk your shit

You’re an easy slut, aren’t you kitten? Almost as easy as dinner with Hellofresh