The Wizard of Mold

Just met a guy who calls himself the "bugs wizard" because he's, you know, made of bugs. Like ants and spiders and beetles and all that. And I've got to admit, the guy kind of creeps me out, but, you know, maybe he shouldn't? Maybe I'm just being shallow? Hell, I'm made of mold; who am I to talk?

Oh goddammit just found out this brand of manticore chow is full of additives. No wonder the manticores in my dungeon have seemed kind of listless.

So the vast and terrible eldritch entity worshipped by the unspeakable inhuman things that cavort and cackle in the darkest depths of the primeval caverns beneath my wizard tower just came out as trans. Good for her.

Yeah, okay, so you utterly failed to answer my devious riddles, but I'm gonna level with you: I was just messing with you and was totally planning to turn you into a cabbage even if you had answered them.

So this mail-order company was advertising pondering orbs that were actually five-dimensional hyperspheres and I thought that sounded fancy so I went ahead and ordered one, but it turned out to be a bit of a ripoff. Sure, it may technically be a five-dimensional hypersphere, but I'm only seeing a three-dimensional cross-section of it, so the damn thing still looks like a regular spherical orb, except that every once in a while it shifts a bit along a spatial axis perpendicular to the three dimensions I normally exist in and it seems to change its size.

Protip: If a genie invites you over to their place for dinner, it may be a good idea to politely decline. Took me forever to figure out how to get out of that damn lamp.

Goddammit spent my whole weekend trying to troubleshoot my scrying orb only to find that one of the giants from my dungeon had swapped it with his glass eye. Real funny, Gorg. Guess who gets chimera-latrine-cleaning duty this week.

Another good thing about being a sentient mold hivemind is that most non-fungi have no idea what mold porn looks like. I could be looking at mold porn on my computer and you could pass right by and glance at my screen and never recognize it.

Hm. Forecast is predicting screaming skull rain tomorrow afternoon. Guess I ought to try to figure out where I put my screaming skull umbrella.

Look, if you have to ask what the magic rod of rotated applesauce does, then it's clearly not for you.

So far none of the adventurers who've tried to raid my wizard tower have found my secret stash of butterscotch candies.