Most of my interconnected dreams across the night involved The Magicians. This morning they revolved around a doctor’s appointment without sufficient instruction; I’d had to wear a paper bag in lieu of underpants.
The unsupported use case of Bix Frankonis’ disordered, surplus, mediocre midlife in St. Johns, Oregon.
Read the current manifesto. (And the followup.)
Rules: no fear, no hate, no thoughtless bullshit, and no nazis.
Most of my interconnected dreams across the night involved The Magicians. This morning they revolved around a doctor’s appointment without sufficient instruction; I’d had to wear a paper bag in lieu of underpants.