2022-12-30-02
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@ -85,6 +85,26 @@ wealthy are dogs. But dogs don't spend money! What need do they have for
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overabundant wealth?
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God Damn Capitalism.
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Alright, it's now actually 2022-12-30. I wanted to save my New Year's
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Eve thoughts for New Year's Eve just in case I have something useful to say.
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Unlikely.
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I'm probably gonna formally give up on Arson Comics (<arson.pisskink.org>)
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because it's hard to follow up on it and I think the writing was somewhat poor
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from the get go. I'll try to write a successor, bit by bit, in this blah.
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Ted walked through the wasteland of his former workplace as it burned.
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He could smell the sweet benzene in the gasoline that had begun to ignite and
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feel the summer heat, the artificial heat, his artificial heat from his embers.
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Lucid yet still almost in a drunk trance he paced from the stairs to the door
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as his co-workers rushed around him to get out of the burning building. A siren
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called in the distance.
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He recalled himself as he left the office building. Someone - Todd? -
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grabbed him "How could you do this?!"
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Ted only knew what he had just done as a dream or very distant memory.
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"What?" He seemed to, almost as though he was a computer or automaton, reset to
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his known state. "I'm Ted." He smiled a weak, nervous smile. "I love my job."
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2022-12-29
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