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If life could just take a break from randomly skull-fucking me for once—or at least schedule a time and ask consent—yeah, that’d be great.
(In which Ghost is a cis-woman who gets sick like a man and requires medical intervention on the regular and inevitably ends up with horrible cramps AND yet another random household crisis, all at the same time.) I’ll live. I feel like roadkill, but I’ll live.
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I’d settle for a clone to do the stuff I never get to, thanks to random emergencies and the inability of some adults in my life to actually, well, be adults.
Oh, and if Elderspawn’s tires could stop falling apart right before a holiday weekend, I would be very thankful indeed.
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Wait, so life randomly shape-shifts into the form of a man you know and then-? Oh, wait, you said “skull-fucking,” not “Skrull-fucking.” My mistake.
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