In January of 2023, the universe was like, "You think I'm working against you NOW? Bro, you have no fucking idea."

Given that Sesame Street is located in Manhattan, Oscar’s grouchiness probably stems from the rent on his trashcan being $3,000 a month.

Searching for affordable housing and beginning to think that the whole "being housed" thing may not be for me.

I’m at the “flipping off inanimate objects” stage of general frustration.

Having crunched the numbers, I think that complaining about the lack of success I've experienced with my creative outlets would make a better creative outlet than my creative outlets.

The worst problems I've had throughout my life have all stemmed from trusting people.

Life wouldn’t be so bad if not for consciousness.

I've come to learn that life owes me nothing*.

*but debilitating contempt

I long to one day experience the sheer euphoria J.D. Vance felt upon discovering the existence of a show called The Big Comfy Couch.

Me: *loses the ability to enjoy literally anything*

Also me: How the fuck did my backlog of enjoyable shit get so massive?!

JD Vance identifies as heterosectional.

J.D. stands for Just Doin’ (Couches).

I'm not above threatening my allergies with violence.

Existing in a timeline that wasn’t intent on destroying me in every possible way would fix me.

.

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New comic! Wherein Jenkins is troubled.

Don’t do the crime if you can’t stack the courts.

Well, that's enough paying attention to stuff for one lifetime.

New comic! Wherein Cord doesn't know.