buckminster fuller and his amazing domes!

a service for hauling drunken sailors off of the streets?

hey! i didn't actually know that

sometimes i wonder if there are people who, once they win one game… they realize that they find the whole experience so stressful or painful that they really don't want to be there anymore.

but no, really, what is instagram?

it's a dark and gritty reboot. blue gingham is pretty much out by default.

damn it, why hasn't someone killed the 90's for good yet? how many more lives will it take. how many more lives?

truly, the copyright gods are kind on this day.

let me try…

with herring ouzo?

credenza is such an odd word.

if all of those happen, i will already be drunk

that explains all the wheezy, prat-falling crows.

aw, his pool looks so tiny there.

i guess you could roll an old wooden globe down a ramp?

i'm… actually having trouble with the phrase "evolutionary parable". are fruit flies involved?

on the other hand, it's usually steady work.

i know. they're starting to be flat, majorly.

a simple thing: weather sounds, done right. light rain and thunder can make a walk through a game feel oppressive or refreshing, depending on how they're handled

*flashes back to santa claus and the ice cream bunny, shudders*