star-wanderer

[star-wanderer]

Made a new poster! :)

[star-wanderer]

so funny to me how Inej when she was freed from the Menagerie had a sort of inkling what Kaz or Per Haskell wanted her to do based on her previous experiences but as it turns out Kaz is like

"haha no pack up looser we're going to steal from the rich now hehe and also you will have to put up with my edgy personality :D"

[star-wanderer]

*old man voice* back in my day tik tok was a ke$ha song

[star-wanderer]

When I read SOC for the first time, I didn't quite understand what this meant, so I didn't react too much either.

Now, though? I know everything about these characters. The lines "Don't slip away from me" and "But it's what I do best" have such a dark and sad meaning, I feel like sobbing for hours. 😭

Also... HE CLUTCHED HER TIGHTER!!!! MY HEART!!!

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[star-wanderer]

I really did end Chapter 16 with "Send his ass to Eeby Deeby," didn't I?

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[star-wanderer]

ily, menswear guy

[star-wanderer]

reblog to diminish the horrors from the person you reblogged from

[star-wanderer]

elf liberalism probably goes insane

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sustainable.

[star-wanderer]

Therapists are just…. Common sense filters

[star-wanderer]

I'm certain this is on Tumblr somewhere, but I haven't seen it around, so I'm sharing it myself

[star-wanderer]

For some reason I can't understand, the local mall still has a travel agent. She seems to be doing pretty well, too, judging from her new Porsche and her exquisite office digs. As you can imagine, this whole thing was confusing to me, because I thought the internet had worked hard to crush all small business proprietors such as herself under an algorithmic boot the size of Topeka. So what was going on here? I had to get to the bottom of it.

As I said, the internet has done a lot to get rid of travel agents. If I wanted to go to Osaka (great food, better Hondas) I could just ask Siri to do it. Ted Siri is the name of the nice person at the library who I tell all my passwords and credit card numbers to, and then he puts them in the computer. That's not his real name, because he tries to keep it safe from "crackers," but I digress. On the internet, the lowest-cost flight is going to take 192 hours and involve my organs getting stolen and sold for Bitcoins, but the second lowest-cost flight is on Air Canada, where the stewardesses spit directly into your mouth when you ask for a drink. Some folks pay extra for that (and you will, too. Spit's not free.)

If the travel agent was still travel agenting, she must be charging an insane amount of money and not getting busted for it. I had to know how this worked, so that I, too, could have my own little mall office that doesn't make any economic sense yet persists until the heat death of the universe. You see, owning a tiny office in a mall was one of my childhood dreams, one that is quickly becoming impossible due to the collapse of malls.

Unfortunately, detective work of this grade doesn't come cheap. For instance, I had to get up and out of the house during the hours that the travel agency was open. Agnes (that's her name, I don't know if I mentioned this earlier?) wouldn't be working at the 11:30-11:45 pm "productivity hour" that I read about in a life hacking magazine. She would be busy doing something that normal people do at this hour, possibly sleeping or barbecuing.

As much as it pained me, I forced my body to get out of bed at around ten in the morning and stumble into Agnes's travel office. It was then that I discovered she wasn't there at all. Inside the space allocated for her travel agency, beyond the pretty ornamentation and fantastic brochures of the waiting room, was a room containing only a crudely-carved set of stairs reaching deep, deep under the mall. It was only then that I remembered that I never saw any customers leaving the travel agency.

Everything worked out in the end, though. She got me a great deal on a flight/hotel package to Osaka, and all it cost me was a little teensy-tiny bite of my liver. Don't even miss it, really, although it was a bit insulting when she started choking, hissing, and screaming while thrashing on the ground, her arms flailing violently against the stone surface of the travel agency's cave.

"What's in this?" she screamed before dissolving into a red mist.

"Rotella," I said after some thought.

[star-wanderer]

LMAO I just found out that it’s Stress Awareness week.

[star-wanderer]

Reblog for a miracle to happen tonight

[star-wanderer]

reblog to give the person you reblogged this from a fucking break