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I feel like dancing. Cut a fucking rug if you feel called out~
[Mr. Capgras Encounters a Secondhand Vanity: Tulpamancer's Prosopagnosia / Pareidolia (As Direct Result of Trauma to Fusiform Gyrus)]
You're fucking great. And don't you, or your loud-ass family forget it. I hope the vibrance of your shit just constantly fucks with the entitled snitch who decided to go to the pigs rather than act like a decent person.
The tyranny of Frankenstein's atomic family strikes again.

Yeah. My life is a party motherfucker and having to explain it to you is just the highlight of this lovely pandemic bash.

At least some of your neighbors seem to know what's up. Don't let the bastards grind you down.

Hey Eliza.
Remember the black and white cereal boxes?
Even the cheepo bulk stuff now can spurge on a color process of some sort!

Hey there cuties.
Been behaved in my absence?

I wonder how flammable chocolate is.
Its got a lot of fat content doesn't it?

We awaken~
The royal we, sweeties. This isn't a kinkpost.

Did you know: @Irick and @Draekos are drunk on a couch with two additional cuties.


I'm at the counterprotest in DC. Because I live in DC, and goddammit, we won't let a single nazi in without a fight.


Give them hell, sweetheart.

Plural Things~ 

I really want to tell off this asshole for their bullshit gender-normative labling of our system, but the front won't let me.
I don't get the point of that. We aren't going to ever talk to this person again, and their self-righteous assholery is making me physically ill.
I do not understand you sometimes headmate.

My radical praxis is now to attribute every creative work to the anima mundi.
Eat my collective unconscious אהיה~

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