Long Story; Short Pier.

God, hes left as on aur oun.

Val Kilmer.

Rome.

Barf bag.

Fridays.

Beeep.

Heroic convenience store turns to blasts of high-pitched noise in an effort to prevent anyone from ever having to suffer homelessness again. I’m not exactly certain how that’s supposed to work, but—wait a minute—I’m receiving word that this is not the desired effect—

  Textile help

Cerebus.

Bottle, botulism.

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Chapter Twenty-Nine: “Mass”

City of Roses

Mars, or, Misunderstanding

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  • [ insert some sort of multiple face-palm gif, or maybe the one with Nathan Fillion, and his hands ]
  • What a week, huh?
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