My daughter is whole! She has not succumbed to peer pressure, at least not in the way the strip suggests. She is no doubt subject to it on some wavelength my calcified brain can't even perceive, but she doesn't have a Hades II style ghost arm and I don't believe she is learning witchcraft at the foot of Hecate, patroness of witches. I feel like there would be signs. And potentially wonders. Maybe even both.
I spent the day taking care of her and Brenna because they're both in the throes of Covid; Brenna was a chaperone on a choir trip and they've both returned with some kinda Covid shit that has been working its way through the distaff infrastructure of the home. When I was a kid, people caught chlamydia on choir trips, like normal. They didn't even catch anything cool! Or… hot, I suppose. Hot in an extremely localized way.
Borderlands has been my go-to time sink, and I finally have some people to play with, but this new patch made my game work the way people said their game worked when my game was working fine. I don't really know what to do with that information. It's been a frustrating day generally, and even two days ago B-Lands Quatro was the psychological equivalent of aspen small pet bedding. I could just roost and writhe in its dry, clean shavings.
In an effort to find another suitable warren, I jumped over to Dying Light: The Beast - a series that, like Borderlands, I was always saving for some co-op optima that was so hesitant to materialize that I never had a chance to fully chew them, releasing their sweetness. So I'm just playing this solo now and my first four hours have been fuckin' delicious. It's a really neat piece of custom technology underneath it that works tirelessly in the service of some kinda fun, B Movie, first-person Parkour RPG thing. I disappeared into it, and whenever I'm not bringing soup to maiden and mother this weekend I can see this taking up the rest of it.
(CW)TB out.
