Unmarketable Plushie

The only media I ever watched was amazing digital circus SFM porn and deltarune theories can I write a novel to change the world?

saying "who said that" at the end of a sentence is a lot funnier when you're plural. who DID say that

"oh! new queer trans comic/show/media whatever that's so cool- why are there no black queer characters? and when there are black people why are they always not trans and side pieces for the white characters?"

i noticed that from indie queer projects that gain traction there lacks a heavy cast of people of color and in this case black characters that are shown an ounce of love. it's very rare to find black trans characters in these projects unless it's specifically made by a black person. it's just jarring to see considering that black/Hispanic trans women are big pioneers of the American lgbt movement.

i just... notice a lot of these queer indie creators always lack black casts members or when they do exist it's only a tokenized character that's most likely not even queer. it sucks cuz I met so many black trans people/trans people of color who vent about the same thing: feeling invisible in a lot of these arts. and when we make art of our own it's often overlooked (although I'm lucky in my case)

yknow what i hate cory doctorow. enshittification is an awful term that feels like eating week old compost out of a sharps disposal bin. autological fucking word. degradation. humiliation. cheapening. indignity. bare-faced exploitation. so many words and you coin en-shit-if-ic-ation. thanks for degrading degradation you prick

the psychic torment of north american societal decline being increasingly described in terms of poop butt by a smarmy floundering comedian/journalist/author/lobbyist whos too much of a hack to even say fuck live on air

This was based on a nightmare I had. I was at this party in a huge building everything was dimly lit, it was a solo cups and shitty sheet cake type of function, I hated everyone else there. I kept seeing her in the shadows, doorways or in the corner of my eye, and I'd watch her lead people into the dark or strike when the lights cut out, killing someone, and I felt horrified and entirely helpless to stop it, and any time she would be able to kill me, she instead marked part of my body with a yellow highlighter, like a kind of game. Her eyes spun around at weird uneven angles like a chameleon and they didn't blink. She talked in rearranged canned lines from a GPS system with a british accent and something like IBM 7094, singing the song Daisy Bell once or twice, her voice was really crackly unless she was saying things directly from the GPS like "turn left" or "exit." she eventually used this to lure me outside the building after killing everyone else, where I kissed her in the moonlight.

sometimes being a fan of something means not wanting them to make any more of it

once you realize you don’t actually need to sleep, you can really (stops talking abruptly and stares straight ahead for 4 minutes)