bug

say "thank u mr Angel of Browser History" or face the single catastrophe which keeps piling digital wreckage at your feet

Saint Elmo’s fire

Mifella

“The female twin dies giving birth to fire; then she descends under the ground. The male twin pursues her but finds her decomposing and giving birth to monsters.” “She’s decomposing and yet she’s still giving birth?” “Only to monsters.”

An enormous fish with bulging eyes and a bloated body and scales shining with putrescence swam around leering like an elderly roué.

He was an angular bug-eyed man with a sad sick face.

The mosquitoes enjoyed it too as they sat on the arms and faces of their hosts, inserting their probosces through the skin and into the veins, drinking the thick, rich blood to satiation, raising little hard hillocks on the flesh as monuments to their visitation.

@jmpaul not this year. or at least not yet. we might sprint one out in the next few weeks!

@bugcourt 2026 cal?

@unityopposite brain too powerful

no tumor left on latest MRI (i lived bitch

@unityopposite 🧘‍♀️

two months out from Oligodendroglioma diagnosis and craniotomy, starting in on this neuroscience, psychoanalysis, recovery, being a person, phil of science, etc. reading pile. would love reqs in any or all of these categories

A love agappe

@autotunefriends King remembered in time 😌

@bugcourt Bro did this before ai

starzsobased

@autotunefriends @nocontextmemes i just love to exist!

@nocontextmemes @bugcourt

@_nic_hamilton_ Mr. Don and Ms. Chori..

the stump-puller, the earth-shaker, the fire-eater, the boast-stopper, the measure-taker, the question-settler, the no-obstacle-brooker

Slip the boat from its mooring, Let Maria cross. Maria is a sorceress, She crosses dry-shod. (Song to train parrots)

@unityopposite The body keeps the score

@bugcourt hobsbawm L

The home was the quintessential bourgeois world, for in it, and only in it, could the problems and contradictions of his society be forgotten or artificially eliminated.

The river ahead is now seen in three dimensions, for the billow of fog, lizardlike, moves, loop after loop, through the meadow bottom, like tired smoke asking only to descend and sleep.