The Fact That You Even Have To Say It Is Proof Enough.

The S1-S2 party: “Steve has always taken all this stuff so well.”

The kids (mostly Dustin): “He’s practically invincible.”

Nancy probably: “He’s too dumb to be affected by Trauma.” (The rest of the party hates that but Dustin’s the only one who argues)

Robin not even a week after star court: “Steve is traumatized and hurt, he just tries to hide it, and he’s not even that good at it you guys just don’t care enough to notice (Dustin is offended; he does care he’s just a kid and Steve is actually pretty good at hiding it.)

Eddie a week out of the hospital: “Steve, you're not very good at advocating for yourself." (Steve didn’t get his injuries attended to because he thought he could handle it and ‘the others needed him’)

Steve: “I'm supposed to be advocating for myself??"

The entire party (minus Dustin) after Robin and Eddie scream at them for over an hour about Steve’s condition (they’re a little nicer to the kids it’s not really their fault): “Oh shit, we fucked up.”

Steve after people start being nice to him all of a sudden: “There’s an imbalance in the universe, am I being Vecna’d? Did he not really die? Shit. What is happening?”

Eddie and Robin: *crying*

And we need them more feral! We have jumps-out-windows grabby-hands, blaster-saber thief-boy, and egg-munching murder-frog-baby- I need more kids that bite. I want arson. I want criminal behaviors so excessively successful and absurd their Masters weep with disbelief.

I am desperate for more order 66 survivors struggling with trama while trying to raise a feral padawan. I know we have kanan and Ezra but we need more.

Robin fully thinks that Dustin is a dog that was sent to obedience school and not a human child that went to summer camp because Steve talks about him like:

Steve, sighing wistfully: I just miss the little guy, you know?

Robin: ?

Steve, right after servicing ice cream to a guy: That’s my mailman. Dustin fuckin’ hates that guy. Goes crazy when he sees him.

Steve: *does not elaborate on Dustin’s long standing feud with the postal service*

Steve: My parents are actually kinda happy that’s he’s gone. They think he’s loud.

Robin, thinking of her neighbor’s dog: Yeah, they’re like that.

Steve: And the jumping, they hate that.

Steve: - bunch of chocolate. Got an upset stomach and threw up.

Robin: They can’t have chocolate.

Steve: Yeah, I know. He’ll throw up!

Steve: Dustin’s coming back next week. I think I’m going to get him a welcome back gift. Got any ideas?

Robin: Something that squeaks?

Boy, walking up to the counter: Hi

Robin: Hi

Boy: I’m Dustin

Robin, internally: *no one can ever know any of my thoughts ever*

MANIFESTING

I am once again baffled by Pukicho's musical ability where I came to read shitposts

A Bug’s Life, 1998

You Can’t Find My House

I just got off the phone with mom, and we came to the realization that my family has lived in a series of unplottable houses for a couple generations now.

-The First Unplottable House is on my dad’s side of the family, in Delphi, Iowa.  The directions to it are the stuff of Buried Treasure:  Turn off the county road with a fraction in it’s name, to the Named Dirt Road, then turn at The Discount Eggs Sign on to the Unnamed dirt road that takes a meandering path THROUGH a corn field, DO NOT take any forks on that road or the farmer will shoot your ass, then take the paved road that dead-ends on ALL the way to the end- No, farther, the road keeps going it’s not a cliff-The only indication that You Have Arrived At The Correct Driveway is that a fat gray pony will charge the car, screaming, then escort you the rest of the way there.

It’s on the side of an enormous river, they’ve owned the property since 1911, and that’s the ONLY route there.

-The Second Unplottable house is in Bedford, Ohio and belonged to my mother’s parents.  It’s at the corner of two side-streets, right across from the tiny Italian grocery store.  Due to strange development decisions, the house is about 30 feet above street level and rendered invisible by a chestnut tree so majestic Hyao Myazaki would probably put it in a movie.  The driveway, however, is VERY visible from any of the surrounding houses, the grocer, or the street.  

At least in theory and old photos, becuase if you actually GO there,  your eyes slide right past it to the neighbor’s lillac bush, or to the retro neons of the grocery store or up the Chestnut tree.  it is literally HARD to look at that driveway, all the world around it wants to pull you away.

-The Third Unplottable house is in Salinas, CA, home of my paternal grandparents.  It is the single most BORING house possible- like, if you were to ask a third-grader to draw a prototypical house, they would draw my grandparent’s house.  Utterly Unremarkable. 

Except for the part where my Grandfather, spurred by his success with the “non-fruiting” peach tree, decided to plant a California Redwood Tree, and it grew to approximately 150 feet over the course of a few short decades.  It is the tallest damn thing for miles around, and SOMEHOW deliveries keep being missed, mail is delivered to the neighbors, and any non-blood family that tried to visit would end up on the other side of town.

-The Fourth Unplottable House was the one I grew up in CA.  The Directions to it are as follows:  It’s the Bright Orange house Right Across From The School.  You know, the one with six flamingos and the Volunteer Avacado Tree.

SOMEHOW, we got everyone’s mail but OURS (we still wonder about the letter from Fort Knox for Mr. Thomas Saxophone), the other kids got lost trying to visit and ended up in Mr.Phan’s yard on the other end of the block.  Officer Brown, Mom and Dad’s friend, who had GPS back in the early 90′s becuase silicon valley, regularly got lost looking for our place.  The Flamingos did nothing.

-My parent’s current house is the second house on the right  after two right turns off the state highway that runs through town.  Sounds easy, right?  

Except that due to a couple small trees and a bend in the road, the house is invisible from the road.  I have to stand out in the road if i want my pizza delivered.  The Mailman is the only person who could reliably find the box, but he drives a subaru that’s older than my sister from the passenger side by leaning over, and delivers mail based on the aztec lunar calendar, so he’s probably not actually human.  I tried to host a party, tied rainbow balloons to the mailbox, and all nine friends had to be waved in from the street.

-My current apartment building Does Not Exist, according to my Bank, medicaid, Google, and City Hall which was a bit exciting when I first moved in and had to call everyone that yes, I was sitting in a building that really exists.   

Unless it’s my classmates, becuase they can apparently come to parties I don’t host. This Friday I had a friend telling me she had a great time at my place last Teusday… when I was home alone.  She assures me that I held a houseparty with “Those polish things you make” (I make great mini klatchky, but haven’t served them to her) and that “You were definitely there, we talked about Carvaggio and you drive me home”

Countdown (1/3)

still looking for evidence -> they didn't have the evidence before

they're just straight up admitting they didn't have evidence for the terrorism charge when they indicted him. they just made that up. they charged him with terrorism because they felt like it.