Alexandra Daddario in the AMC show The Mayfair Witches.

She ostensibly plays a brilliant brain surgeon. She starts experiencing some spooky witch and demon-related goings on.

She meets up with a guy working for a paranormal research group. He tells her in no uncertain terms “Do not leave this magically-protected apartment. You are in great danger.” She agrees.

Five minutes later she walks out of the apartment onto the street. She immediately wanders into a New Orleans street party, is handed an open drink from a stranger, drinks it, and whoopsy daisy gets magically roofied into a demon-engineered hallucination of her dead mother.

Brilliant. Brain. Surgeon.

No one wants to die, everyone needs to make the right decisions for themselves, and for legal reasons I would never advocate for violence.

However…

…turned out to be a bit of a surprise for the world’s most powerful military.

Absent of the gender assumption, it’s good advice for any spouse to greet their partner when they come home. There’s a good chance that they’ve been working and being welcomed home can relieve a lot of the stress that builds up from being out of the house. It makes one feel like one has come home, rather than just come back to a place where one can take off one’s shoes.

How about a compromise: Russia gets the entire fuck out of Ukraine, and in exchange they can have Alaska. Seems fair.

I say this as someone who fucking loathed George W. Bush: John Kerry had even less charisma. I couldn’t fucking believe that somehow primary voters decided they wanted John Kerry when John Edwards, Howard Dean, and Wesley Clark were potential alternatives. John Kerry had less charisma than a pile of mildewy laundry.

I see a kiwi bird.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bonus_Army

My last raise was by $1 / hour. Accounting for inflation, even with the raise, I’m making $3 / hour less than I was when I last got a raise. I’m working for a little mom and pop business and they are good people, but they cannot do basic economic math.

What is a man? A miserable little pile of secrets.

You know what fucks me up? His birth name is Dean Tanaka. His biological father is Japanese. Strong “pulling the ladder up behind you” vibes.

That was literally how a good chunk of recorded human history did it, except with weak beer or diluted wine.

I assume one of these exists for all fifty states.

Rise of the -leighs, -lees, and -dens.

He shot Darkseid, too.

Which makes for a much more dramatic-looking jet of flame when you light it.

To be fair, if a technology was going to disassemble me down to a subatomic scale and reassemble me somewhere else, I’d want the atmospheric and ship’s systems conditions to be absolutely perfect, too.

Katamari Damacy.

Na na, na na na na na, na na, na na na na na na…

A mighty harvest.