(Click to View/Download) Scientists believe that once an iteration of something reaches it's seventh distinct configuration, the gates of hell open wide and bust the hinges off so they can't swing back closed, and all the spooky demons and ghouls and red devil people come a-pokin' and a-proddin' with their pitchforks and/or tridents and everyone must make a decision, an internal decision that no one else will ever know but a decision all the same; do I pick up my angelic sword and fight against the legions of hell, or do I pick up a can of whipped cream, do a quick whippet, and then plunge my being into the sexy tortures of hell? I think we all know which option sounds better. * * * Ear Rat Magazine returns for issue seven, somehow. This one has been gestating for over a year since the last issue came out, and it is rightfully ill-shapened and deformed looking for such a long time in momma's tumtum. bikerbuddy keeps the streak alive twice, pret plays dnd in stor
(Click to View/Download) Some days you wake up, brush your teeth, drink your coffee, re-brush your teeth, receive your information packet via Brain-Wire download, hop into your local transport tube and head off to work for your regular 22 hour workday and everything just fuckin' jives. You're chugging free coffee and pounding your keyboard way harder than you need to, reports are getting generated and emailed and you're cracking jokes about how bad Steve from Accounting's tie looks today. And then your doctor calls you, his breath ragged and his voice getting louder and softer sporadically. Wind is rushing through his phone and you can discern that he must be running. "Jake, Jake I'm sorry! I'm not a doctor," you hear him scream to you through the phone, sounding far away. "I was never a doctor." You wake back up, you've fallen asleep at your desk again. The long days are getting to you. You wipe your eyes and head over to the kitche
(Click to view/download) In high school I used to really focus on trying to be "cool" but I was just in high school; whatever I thought was cool was objectively not cool. It was the early 1890's and my town just got it's first electrified street lights, I was routinely drinking half a dozen cocaine-laced Coca Cola drinks to keep me going through the day. I would go to school and then go to my job at night; I was a murderer for hire. Business back then was good, it was too dark to see anyone because there were so few electrified lights. Things are different now, but I'm still working at my old job. They say if you do what you love, you'll never work a day in your life. I don't think this is really good advice, I think we should all go around killing one another and ingesting cocaine and living abnormally long lifespans because of a curse that was put upon your entire family ages ago. Maybe I'm a traditionalist, I don't know. * * * * * Welcome to Ear
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