Apparently a Cryptid

finding somebody who will laugh at your shitty jokes is joy-inducing but finding a motherfucker who can yes-and all the esoteric bullshit you put out is pure cocaine. this must be the shit all those racuous but good-natured scoundrels down at the tavern are on

Glados learning sign language so Chell can hear at least one of her excellent monologues and Chell just closes her eyes

[the most low energy you have ever seen me] we’re about to go crazy mode

"on god's green earth" is way too fun to say even when you don't believe in god and know most of it is blue, actually

the issue with growing up in the 2000s and 2010s was like there was this really big push toward "accepting your weirdness" overall but they meant like idk wearing mismatched socks or something not being tangibly beyond the norm in any way shape or form

writers, instead of asking ai for help, you can always use your childhood trauma and repressed issues to help you with that fic

Horrible slowly dawning realization that you are the blorbo