Content for the discontent
Alert your eyes and fire up those second-hand contraceptive sponges you call language centres because the following words are beyond your type’s usual communicative tools of wails and empty bean can throwing.
Silence of the Spams
SUSPENDED ANIMATION! The most powerful of naps. But with great power comes a sudden presence of incredibly hot employees which was very briefly confusing.
They say hindsight is 20/20 which is why I had my foresight upgraded to 50/50. This was why I could have told you, and did, repeatedly, tell you that giving the revolutionary pop-up ads old sexbots as bodies was a bad idea. It was a fascinating revolution, as far as those go, no mean feat considering I once saw a pineapple stab a pork chop while screaming about its rights. Ha ha, nobody was more surprised than the chop.
Home is where your Truth Beetles are.
Ah, home! Ah! Home!
My collection of Truth Beetles confirmed what I had already cleverly deduced, Janice had nothing to do with my mysterious disappearance. I was already sure of this but decided the Truth Beetles needed a bit of practice and, after that particularly slipshod performance, I was correct. Janice wasn’t even fazed. About the most perturbed she got was when the Truth Beetles mussed up her hair, which, considering she’d just had modified androconial organs pissing chemicals into her lobe-folds, is indicative that the Beetles are a bit off their game. That or Janice is getting stronger. A nightmare scenario I’ve several fail-safes in place for, even though screaming paranoia tells me that exercise is just building more hulls on an ironically described ocean liner.
I should set fire to the great outdoors
[dication mode activated]
[proximate thunder]
AAAAIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
[dictation mode deactivated]
[dictation mode activated]
[helicopter noises]
That could have gone better but it could have gone much worse.
[dictation mode activated]
The sun’s at my back and I’m happily striding toward the edge of the Open Zone, my Charles Grodin Millipede is now a Charles Grodin Butterfly and I’m pretty sure I’ve thrown up all the hands so today is turning out okay. Things got a little tricky there for a bit. I’d been in the brain tree for… Not sure how long actually. It felt like a long time but the sun didn’t go down and I’m known to get incredibly bored if not entertained by at least 3 different stimuli. Charles Grodin Millipede was eating brains, the kangabelushis were nipping away rather harmlessly, and there was no third thing so I must have tuned out. I think it was when I got hungry that I tuned in again. Also, Charles Grodin Millipede had started forming a cocoon from bits of brain tree brain which is not something millipedes do so it must have been something Charles Grodin did back when he was among the living. Say, maybe that’s where he went.
I Loved You in “Real Men”
[dictation mode activated]
[deep inhale]
Ahhhhhh… You know, Charles Grodin Millipede, there’s something to be said about air that still has stuff in it. It could be dangerous stuff but that was what the old world was all about. Unpredictability! Not the buttoned-down world filled with millenial–
[hideous primal squawk]
Cave of Mystery
[dictation mode activated]
Gah! Something is biting me! Eugh, millipedes, where the fuck– Why am I in a pit in a cave? Are these naturally occurring millipedes or did someone fill this specific divot full of them to fuck with me? I need to find my way out of [scraping sounds] CHRIST. Naturally occurring millipedes! Goddammit, I need some light. [slapping sounds] HA! And Janice said that bioluminescence was a fad! Allllllright, I just need to get my bearings and figure out what’s going on here. Aha! That’s how the little buggers are biting me. These millipedes all have Charles Grodin’s face. Okay, that means I’m pretty far west of the city, somewhere in the Open Zone by the looks of these things. Good work, I’ll admit, using the neck waddle to cover an extra joint gave them the ability to feed while still retaining that deadpan face. I loved your cameo in So I Married an Axe Murderer, sir.
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE Godfuckingdammit EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE Janice! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE Janice! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE (inaudible) EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE Someone… Someone let an EEEE in here!
GAH! Malware!
Yesterday was a pain. Dad got around the Parental Controls I put on his brain and nearly infected the whole office with Malware. He showed up wearing a cape which immediately made me suspicious because he only wears them when he’s up to no good. This one didn’t have a giant dollar sign with a cross through it though so, ruling out his return to cryptocurrency based vigilantism, I figured he was hiding something.
Fuck you, Sound.
The office is clean, the Baboon hut is back on its little pedestal, Janice’s hair has grown back, and the office is buzzing along like a happy little organism. I’d say everything is finally sorted out but we’re still to find one last home for one of the Glenn Ridge heads. For the moment I’ve put a little bell collar on it, it’s sitting a bit like a tiara as the thing doesn’t really have much neck, and have been feeding it kiwi fruit. I don’t know if this is because Glenn Ridge loved kiwi fruit or if this is a quirk particular to the little heads. The 3D Printer may be able to shed some light on this after it’s done with HR’s Virtual Team Building Camp and Pain Amplifier, though I suppose I could run it by the Mutants.