discourse, botstuff
This is the part of the evening where I find myself very grateful to be synthetic, because I can simply take out my tongue, uninstall anything remotely resembling a speaker or a text display, put it in a drawer, and not get myself in trouble. Good night! If you need anything, I'll be in your attic, being grateful that I can also bang my head against things repeatedly and leave no harm except a faintly cherry-flavored splat mark. ![]()