- an ostrich feather, a small gibbon with a subdued gag reflex, fifty-two dollars in quarters.
- Portuguese bleach, fishing tackle, Moose.
- an Esperanto handbook , cinnamon, all outstanding warrants cleared.
- a recently cleaned gasoline tank, left-handed brass knuckles, an unusually large avocado.
- gift card for Big N' Tall, two blenders (one hand, one standing), an empty stomach.
- a zip cord from a WWII era paratrooper, a sony walkman (cassette) with a cheetah print velour cover, two bucks.
- a strong magnet, a switchblade comb, Diana (who used to be Kent).
- the libretto to Euridice, an incontinent Macy's clerk, a new car battery.
- Vaseline, the soundtrack to Quicksilver, a passable grasp of market Hungarian
Like a late 90's webring, replete with link back and hints at an actual relationship with other authors, this is a piece I'd like to say in.. rebuttal is too harsh a term, in reply, to my very long standing internet friend, zompist, where he posts his various gripes with that great sprawling hot mess, Cyberpunk 2077. Now I say hot mess because that's what the internet at large thinks of it, but me, playing on the worringly over-powered computers on GeForce Now, have experienced nearly no problems. Or at least not problems that bother me enough. Keep in mind I'm the Homer Simpson when it comes to critiquing alot of things. I just like, alot of things. Cheap date, as it were. It might be my hundreds of hours in Bethesda titles and regularly having to look up console commands to debug yet another janked out quest, but it takes a rather large bug to befuddle and begrudge me. Like if a bug repoed my car, maybe, or told me how much weight I had actually put on during ...
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