#never ask a woman her age or a man his salary or me why i pour lighter fluid all over myself whenever i think of orson's body dysmorphia
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orson welles (volumes 1 and 3) by simon callow / citizen kane (1942) / the third man (1949)
#never ask a woman her age or a man his salary or me why i pour lighter fluid all over myself whenever i think of orson's body dysmorphia#the third man#citizen kane#joseph cotten#orson welles#y'all were not kidding with the jennifer's body parallels
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Him @ 3 AM: u up?
Me: … yeah what’s up?
Him: haha, what’s got you up so late? got too much stuff running through your mind?
Me: yeah, pretty much.
The video on my phone:
#he purrs AND yawns AND sneezes it was a lot to take in#spoilers for this month old 40 second cat video it’s mostly purring with a quick yawn and quicker sneeze at the very end#but also while I can laugh about how silly this moment was now it truly is a faux pas#you’re never supposed to ask a woman her salary a man his age and a boy why he’s up so late#you’re just supposed to ask IF he’s up and if he is you’re supposed to invite him over to blow his back out to help both of you sleep#I’m mysterious and unknowable don’t ask me questions it ruins the illusion
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nuts and perhaps dolts
anyone can join :)
Make your ship
@localgremlinenthusiest @evmxigruamhrzmhzrhskykzhmxhktx @portalling101 @sugary-knacks @shaziztrazh @gabrielapazlima @here-lies-the-sillies @kuni-dreamer @cornmazehater @valentinbelleyh505 @mieyathearoace + anyone else willing to participate 
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never ask a man his salary a woman her age or me why I can't stop staring at this
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Theres a variation of the "never ask a man his salary, a woman her age, etc" where the third entry is "and a transfem what she was doing pre-201x" that i see circulated on occassion, and never, as best as I can remember, with any kind of pushback or challenge but it strikes me as insidious bc like?
Yea, I get that there is Definitely that brand of white lgbt+ lefty whos allyship and """deprogramming""" is ENTIRELY dependent on the fact that they realize they're fucked in the alt/far-right circles they formerly ran in but like? Thats the thing too, like: first of all, can we let die the idea that its normal for ppl to have/had "edgy" nazi phases?
Also, more to the point: why is the implication that its a singularly and uniquely transfem thing? Like not only isnt it, but it also makes me think of bad-faith ontological arguments wrt socialization.
#Like tbc im under no illusion that everyone ive seen who reblogs that fucking meme is trying to be crypto but i also have no doubts that#You'd find PLENTY of transmisogynists in the notes of that post who are a hair away from going mask off
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Never ask a man his salary, a woman her age and me why I never draw Mulmangcho with his canonical uniform.
#squirrel and hedgehog#I was trying textures but I think still looks too clean#I liked the black and white version so Im sharing it#mío
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youtube
youtube
Yandere Human Miles Quaritch x Female Human Reader
Drabble
Grace didn't pay much attention to you when you first came to Pandora. You skipped many grades and was the youngest scientist on record. Barely an adult. You were a young 19 year old.
One day in the cafeteria, Grace was picking at her food. She needed more money for her school with the Navi children. Pencils and paper and all that.
You wished you could help but your salary was low. You talked and met Mr. Selfridge. He said no flatly.
That is where she noticed that dog Quaritch. He was surprisingly in the cafeteria. The Marine cafeteria had better food. She looked inside many times but couldn't come in. Why was he here? He was sitting with some of his own friends.
That was when Grace noticed it. Quaritch was staring at you! He was basically eye fucking you. He was as usual looking like a hungry dog.
He must have a thing for Name.
Grace felt an idea coming to her…
"A date?" You squeaked.
Grace explained how there was a handsome guy named Quaritch she knew. And he was interested in her.
You furrowed your brows. You have never dated before. You never fell in love. You rejected but Grace insisted. It was just one date. What was the worst that could happen?
So you agreed.
As for Quaritch….
"Doc, what a surprise." He drawled. How he hated that tree hugging woman. She would always nag his violence against them. He was doing it for humanity's sake and it was his job.
But she was the scientist the boss needed.
"I know you had your eye on Name for a while." She smirked.
That made him look up from his documents. He glared. "that's not of your fucking business." He hissed
"I can make you a deal."
Grace explained how she will convince you to go out with him if he convinced Selfridge to fund her program.
Quaritch raised a silver brow. Without hesitation, he nodded. "Agreed."
….
Your mom sent you a beautiful dress from earth last month with the delivery packages. So, you dressed up and all that.
You followed Grace and she led you to what looked like a gym. Your eyes furrowed in confusion. Before you could ask, Grace left you alone. You felt like you were set up.
There was no one at all. You felt scared. And that is where he showed up.
Some kind of robot walked towards you. It was huge. You jumped and almost screamed.
Before you could run away, a man in a tank top came out of the robot. "Why, hello there." He cockily grinned. You blinked. He came down to the ground and walked to you.
"I am Colonel Miles Quaritch. Head of security." He held out his hand.
You smiled and touched his hand. To your surprise, he kissed it instead of shaking it. You blushed. He found that amusing and chuckled.
"I thought you would stand me up."
"Was I late?"
"No. But, since you work under Grace I thought you would be like her bad morals."
You frowned. Grace was your friend.
Quaritch noticed your offensive face and held his hands up in mocking surrender. "I am joking, doll."
You gave him a tight smile. "I am sorry for being sensitive."
He smirked. He offered you his arm. "Follow me."
He led you to a table with candle lights.
The rest of the date was fun. You admit. He talked about how he was a Marine from Earth and fought for American Freedom. And you were impressed how young and healthy he was for his age. He had muscles and looked so handsome.
You felt strange towards him. You wanted to touch his biceps and see if he had a six pack or right pack.
He then asked about you. You shrugged. "Nothing special about me."
"I doubt that." He smirked.
What did that mean? You explained how you skipped a few grades and became a scientist and Navi translator. You loved gardening and cooking. That oddly made Quaritch's eyes gleam for some reason. He was interested in your ethnicity.
Then the strangest question of all.
"Can I touch your hair?"
You blinked. You allowed him. He stroked your long silky hair.
"So soft." He mused.
You smiled and blushed. You were insecure since the base said no makeup or jewelry allowed even for non soldiers. Just perfume and lotion with lip balm were allowed
The date ended. Quaritch escorted you to your room and said good night by giving you a wink.
The next day he invited you and some science friends to eat at the Marine cafeteria. They had meat and fresh food.
Soon Quaritch let you and the entire science group to finally for the first time go to the forest and collect the plants you guys needed for medicine.
"Thank you for going out of your way to help us."
"No problem, Princess. Another date would be nice."
Quaritch would soon walk with you down the halls and escort you to some rooms safely. But one day, it happened…
You were about to meet Quaritch for morning coffee when you heard weird noises. Trudy was yelling and so was Grace. You then saw Jake too.
What was going on?
Poor Norman was getting beaten up by a soldier! Being the skinny nerd he was, Norman tried to defend himself but he was weak.
"Leave him alone!" Jake cried.
You couldn't take it anymore. You stepped in front of poor Warren and was met by a punch to the cheek.
You fell on your ass but shielded Norman with your body. He was now laying on the ground, perhaps bloodied.
"What the fuck is going on!?" You knew that voice and felt happy.
Everyone looked to see the Colonel himself.
He had a crazy look in his eye. His fists clenched and frowning.
Trudy told him what happened. But, he was not paying attention. He stared at your defeated form.
He then kneeled down. "Let me see." It was an order. He gently peeled your hand away from your bruised cheek.
The Colonel shook his head and breathed through his nose. He looked over his shoulder and barked orders.
His mic made some soldiers come and take the attacker away and Norm to the hospital wing.
He grabbed your hand and led you to his office. Without saying anything, he pushed you down to sit on a chair by your shoulders.
He took out a first aid kit.
He kneeled down and began to patch up your face.
You felt shy and averted your eyes.
"I am very disappointed in you." He broke silence
You apologized.
"Look at me."
You met his beautiful icy eyes. You couldn't read them. But you felt your womanhood ache. What a man he was.
He was handsome and so attractive.
Not a Prince charming but a warrior.
"Don't put yourself in danger again. I doubt Spellman would have done the same for you."
You bowed your head in shame then nodded.
He sighed. "Come on. How about that date?"
He led you to the gym. While he was punching the sandbag you were drinking coffee and listening to him talk.
You were impressed by him.
After a couple of hours of "hanging" with him. Once again being the gentleman he was, he escorted you to his room. You thanked him and suddenly he kissed your bruised cheek.
He turned around and left without looking at you.
The next day you avoided him. Out of shyness.
Your first almost kiss!
You felt needy and fluttered on the inside. What a lovely feeling
You didn't tell Grace but you kept thinking of it. You wished the Colonel took off his shirt when training instead of the tank top.
His sweaty and tanned skin was to kill for.
He was a dominant daddy.
You went to the laundry room with a bucket of warm water and kneeled down on your knees. The machine doesn't do a good job with stains so you had to hand wash your soiled clothes. You rolled up your sleeves and began to work.
Quaritch watched you do your chores with his arms crossed as he leaned on the side of the door.
Your bruise healed.
His cock ached with longing. The way you got hurt broke his heart. You were not meant for war.
Shaking his head he walked away.
What you didn't know was that you put your clothes in the dryer and when you left, the Colonel stole one bra and underwear.
It was another date night with your friend and crush. He knocked on your door to pick you up. You two greeted each other and walked down the hallway.
"You look sick. Are you?"
You shook your head and said you saw something disgusting earlier.
The Colonel was curious. He asked but when you were quiet he asked again with authority.
You said how you saw Norman and Trudy together in bed.
The Colonel snickered and shook his head. He rufulled your hair. "What am I going to do with you?"
On the date, you two ate and went to the gym and watched him work out.
This time he was lifting weights then he stopped.
"I think you should stick with me after work."
He explained how you needed a bodyguard.
"Can you give me time to think it over?"
He sighed and agreed
Would you take his offer?
Grace then asked you for your opinion of the Colonel.
"I like him. He is cute and very nice."
"Thought so."
#yandere miles quaritch x reader#miles quaritch#dark miles quaritch#yandere miles quaritch#miles quaritch x reader#avatar 2009#avatar#Youtube
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Episode 35 - The Gobbal Set
Finally, a non-heavy, light little episode. Thank god.
Their conversation is cute, their closed sign is cute, even they're both cute.
Never ask a woman her age, a man his salary, and Kerubim Crepin to tell a single story where he went to Brakmar, despite that seemingly happening many times, between, and those are just the ones I can remember at the moment, his and Lou's "slaughter safaris in Sidimote Moors" or having a rare sword from there.
He's trying to "disappear" all the occasions that may or may not involve Atcham out of his life, as if it's 1984.
He is so normal.
Kerubim would love NFTs.
I love you, Kerubim's Unspecified Adult Responsibilities.
Joris is so special for this.
I like to imagine, that as an adult, he publishes sad """romance""" novels under thirty pen names (lest anyone in his real life learns he has emotions)
They are, in part, musings on why one must imagine someone spending thousands of years of immortality happily, ��� the same way Sisyphus must be happy, haha.
If Kerubim and Atcham learn about this, he will explode.
He truly is god's strongest Kerubim apologism warrior.
I just wanted to include this because gay people.
He is so bad at this. It's very cute. I love him.
Let the traumatic flashbacks to Kerubim actually almost drowning commence:
I'm insane about researching Joris's psyche.
Is there anything you'd like to tell us, Joris? Does this make you scared frequently, haha? Do you think about this a lot?
A friend had recently convinced me of the headcanon that Joris has OCD (not that I needed much convincing. If you've read my fics, I uh... accidentally gave Joris OCD in one of them. Whoopsie.), and while it's mostly about his adult self, I can see him having inclinations/some form of that even as a child.
Mostly due to the "persistent scary thoughts of someone he loves dying," "being so upset by the concept of changing bedtimes, that is a Nightmare to him," "needing reassurance that his thoughts of Kerubim dying are Not going to happen for real," things, — which look similar to the way intrusive thoughts and thought spirals work, — as well as the "having so much anxiety compared to an average seven-year-old (due to Kerubim and the general home situation), that he sometimes still sucks his thumb while sleeping" thing.
He looks so peaceful here. Cute.
It is interesting that he values something that was quiet and quaint so much. I guess both excitement and the calm, are equally important to him. It makes sense, considering he keeps pivoting between returning to adventure, and then going on breaks again, during his long, immortal life after the series.
(From this show's quietude, to moving between cities, to settling down in Bonta for a little bit. Then, two-hundred-something years later, yet again, more adventures, and yet again, settling down in Astrub. Then in Wakfu, moving to Bonta again, going on missions with Joris, and complaining that he needs his retirement, while getting beat up heavily due to lack of regular training. His switching between these two things is so interesting.)
He's so funny for this.
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Never ask a man his salary, a woman her age, or me why it looks like I have 4-6 oranges in my jacket pockets
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for bingo: what about sam !!
first bisexual transgender autistic dog whos also a milf
never ask a woman her age, a man his salary, and tumblr user pikaflute on what her opinions are on men (dogs) who wear suits. it will always end like this.
i like sam. hes funny and cutie. i liked max at first because self recognition through the other but sam is really fucking funny. he's an asshole too but he's also a sweetheart. i know he wants to be a cool noir detective and he practices his one liners in the mirror before he has breakfast. he's infodumping to max about something that he made up and max is like "is that true?" and sam is like "sure is little buddy (lying)!"
he's really good in season 3. skunkape im gonna need that remaster so my switch can have no storage space after i take 500 pictures of sam in 303. this image specifically has made me sick.
i do think someone needs to be punished for putting my pookie booboo bear through season 3 though. no reason why he had to be through those events and to make him suffer. what if he was loved, by me. what if he got to take a nap or something. maybe a kiss or two. he deserved to go more angry too. he was being hurt all season and deserve to like beat more people up. #TRUTH!
anyway fat guys RULE! i have selfshipped with him. its how i roll. love wins and all that. babygirls in suits 4eva.
#sam you are so important to me#he is so babygirl and i need to let this 50 year old bisexual know im here for him
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This man text me to check on me after the storm...
I'm a little upset he didn't text me before the storm, but I didn't even think to text him at all tbf. I don't even think that he text his girlfriend beforehand; their relationship is so weird and distant to me. Far be it from myself to understand the intricacies of being Catholic and modern dating... Anyways I think her and I are probably the only two people he text... Our mentor probably text him.
Idk... Either I'm his only friend or there's still something there. Like if he gets married, his brother will be his best man, but who else will be standing up there with him as a groomsmen? He's too traditional to have a woman up there and honestly I wouldn't want to. Does she have so few close friends too that it works out? Will it just be uneven? Probably boy cousins if he has any... I'd join for a bachelor party, that he'll probably get roped into and hate tho.
None of this is actually my problem. They might be engaged already at this point, tho on his salary? I doubt it. I am one two people he cared enough about to make sure that I was alright and offer help to, outside of his family. Well if they've been dating this long, I suppose that makes her family... Okay so I'm the one person outside his family. Lol
Idk man. Someone said when you make guy friends effortlessly, it's called pretty privilege and you just have to make sure that your guy friends have the best intentions. Idk that that's true. I've always felt more like one of the guys, but maybe all the guys never saw me that way? Maybe I projected that they only saw me as one of the guys and really they saw me as a pretty and chill girl. As an adult most of the men I've been friends with have shot their shot or indicated that they wanted to at least.... Fuck, why did nobody tell me I'm pretty after like age 10?! That's when we need to hear it most! Yanno, a friend was talking to this guy on my behalf once in high school and asked what he thought of me... And his answer was, "she aight". I knew enough about self esteem to walk away from that dude, but I don't know that I ever let go of that mentality (funnily enough, his cousin was head over heels for me; but I'm fairly sure he just wanted to fuck, I bet he was pretty annoyed that I liked his tall, dark, and handsome cousin. Oh well, maybe don't be a lech; cause like this to be clear, the lecherous cousin wasn't ugly on the outside). I was not gorgeous, but not ugly, just me; just aight.
And so when my ex came along calling me beautiful I thought here's someone that sees me and isn't afraid to say it, but everything she ever said was just lies for her own personal gain. So where does that land me...? Determining my own worth again, someplace I'm very well acquainted with; but struggle to navigate. And honestly, while physical features have moved me, they've never been the most important thing I sought out in partners. All of the gorgeous men I've been friends with had to have good personalities as well; call me greedy.
What I want is the express opinions of every man I've ever met so that I can analyze all the data and draw conclusions. Especially if they found me attractive from the start or only after they got to know me, like I suspect. 🤔 I'm discounting the opinions of women because in general the women I hang out with would find anyone beautiful I think. They'd never call someone ugly because of their physical features. I also have to acknowledge the how much racism and exoticism might have factored into my experiences. 🙃
The data may be imperfect, but I still want it. I want to understand how others see me; how they value me. Sure I'm smart, that's never been in doubt, but what else do you value about me?
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Never ask a woman her age
A man, his salary
To me, why I made almost every oc a lab experiment
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never ask a woman her age a man his salary and me why i have 2 office chairs in my room
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Soul Sisters
We open to a dimly lit non descript room in a non descript building in Washington, DC. There is a young woman, in her mid-late 30s and another woman of the same age. The first woman is blonde and wearing an oversized sweater, leggings, and over worn black ugg boots. The second woman, with dyed reddish brown hair is more polished and wearing a black suit with a white shirt, short manicured nails and red lipstick. They have been having a back and forth for 15 minutes.
"Take the money,"
Take the money?
Always, take the money. If anyone
I’m not for sale.
The second woman laughs.
You think that makes you special. The fact you're sitting here in over $50,000 worth of credit card debt, $75,000 in student loans, you're nearly 40 and you don't have a pot to piss in or a winder to throw it out of and you've been going on any Youtube or TikTok blogger you can find to try to embarrass this family and somehow you're the moral authority over anything. You can not be for sale but no one cares that you've stood your ground when you're homeless and no one cares. (she pulls out her phone) They're already starting to turn on you in the comments and ask questions. It's only a matter of time. Take the money. Start a new life, pay for your wedding, put a down payment on a house, start a charity. I don't care. Take the money. My offer expires in 24 hours.
No.
No?
No.
You're making a big mistake. (she starts to gather her papers and puts a pen in her purse using her well manicured finger)
You're the worst kind of woman.
Excuse me. I am trying to help you here. Sign the NDA and take the money but you want to give me lectures.
You are supposed to help me. Believe all women but they send you, a woman and not only that, a woman of color to give me hush money and silence me.
(She sits back down)
Would you prefer I was white?
I prefer you use your power for good and not to hurt women and silence them.
Three times.
What?
Three times. I was 12, 15, and 17. Three times. The amount of times my stepfather took me to the clinic to "take care of things" before I started to show because he didn't want my mother to find out because he never had a job and my mother, a brilliant, yet stupid woman, was supporting a grown man and three kids on a nurses salary while he blamed "the man" for never having a job, yet he could stay home and find the time to rape his stepdaughter. Three times I sat alone in the clinic getting his seed scrapped out of me and every single time some nurse lectured me on being smarter and how no man would want me if I kept getting pregnant and three times I went home and said nothing. And you know what my reward for getting raped consistently from the time I was 11 until that last time when I just didn't go home after he "forgot" to pick me up from the clinic because he forgot he had to get my mother from work because they could only afford one car because he wouldn't get a job. (silence) I certainly wasn't offered $2.5 million to be quiet. I got scar tissue and an incompetent cervix. You wanna know the irony. Three miscarriages all after 21 weeks. The sickness goes away, I can eat what I want, I finally start to get fat, start to show, and then the blood comes and I go into labor and I go home every single time without a baby. And you know what the doctor tells me? Go home and try again? Why? To have a fourth miscarriage. So, I'm here because surrogates are expensive and rich people pay a lot for cleaners and honestly, I don't care enough about overgrown frat boys, scorned mistresses, forgotten children, or disgraced councilmen trying to go to the press and I certainly don't care about your social justice warrior stance. We're not soul sisters. You're almost as stupid as my mother, who, by the way posts three times a year on Facebook on Mother's Day, Christmas, and my birthday about how you make so many sacrifices for your kids and they have the nerve to be weak and ungrateful and how her reward is in heaven because God knows her heart. And she's still with the same man, the one who has never had a job in the 25 years they've been married, liking her posts and giving her encouragement. You think you know me but you don't. Take the money, don't take the money. I don't care. Just know that once I walk out of here, I will still get paid and you will have nothing except your ill placed pride because Brinston's have an entire file on you dating from 2005 and are prepared to destroy your life in ways you could never imagine.
Okay.
Okay. what?
I'll sign it.
(she pushes a paper in front of her with a pen and the woman takes the pen and signs it in blue ink) the NDA (she points to a second line and the woman across the table signs it in black ink)
Is that it?
She gives her $50,000 in $100 bills and two plane tickets to Paris.
What’s this?
A down payment. Get out of here. Lay low for a few days. The rest of your money will be in your account in the morning. If you even as much answer an email from anyone except me or a representative from the Brinston's, the contents of this file will be released and every part of this contract, except the NDA will be voided and you will have 24 hours to return all the money or we will sue you. (She puts the paper in her folder) Have a nice day, Ms. Sullivan.
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by the time i reset my tumblr password and logged in, i forgot what i was supposed to say.
i've been doing a lot of thinking. thinking a lot of thots. doing some thinky thinks. i'm strongly considering going back to university to either get a new degree (masters) or finish a previous one (undergraduate). i know how to study now and i feel i can do a lot better, understand a lot more, and be a better human in general. plus, i really love studying. i love learning for learning's sake but i also love achieving things and stacking degrees. sue me, i like fighting my little battles (classes) and winning wars (graduating). maybe i'll actually go to my graduation this time!
learning to learn and learning how much i don't know is a powerful thing. i've started listening to audiobooks again, but making sure to listen at at least 1.5x speed to get the information into my brain as quickly as possible. my brain moves too fast to listen at normal speed, unless i'm writing and listening at the same time, like i'm doing right now.
how about that youtube channel, tho. i'm transitioning back to video essays, ones that i deeply care about, ones that mean something to me. my current video that i'm almost finished writing is on unlikeable characters. i didn't mean for it to have a deep underlying message, but it came through anyway. three cheers for sweet guessing what it is.
i have more and more ideas. that's the great thing about writing: i get more ideas the more i write. i get ideas from watching video essays, like drew monsen's one about being a drug addict, or tirrrb's newest one on depression. i've been into the leftist cooks and contrapoints recently, watching one of each today. (well, finishing one and starting another.) this is why i started my youtube channel: i have a lot to say about shows and movies. they are my first love, my parents, my girlfriends, my silly rabbits. they raised me, they nurtured me, they protected me--they still do all these things.
tonight lulu and i watched pearl (2022), a stunner of a film. mia goth is one of the greatest actors of her generation (coincidentally my generation also) and a true embedded warrior in the art of cinema. ti west did a great job with the directing and editing, eliot rockett with the cinematography, and mia and ti with the co-writing. could not fault this film at all. as the adage goes, never ask a man his salary, a woman her age, or a pearl what's wrong with her.
(it's a good time for me personally to mention that a main character in my novel Daughter Of The Valley is named Pearl, and she's a real sweetheart, just like the other pearl. my pearl was here first, though.)
speaking of my books, for some reason they were pulled back from stores and i'm still waiting on them to be re-published. the first book in JUNK! should have been out by now but for some reason it isn't. i was expecting smooth sailing and i was dashed upon the rocks of my warship's foolishness! all i wanted was to return from the battlefield.
i'll let you know when The Choice (JUNK! #1) is out. i'll most likely post a video about it. until then, sayonara suckers.
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