Masterweaver

Let me briefly paint the scene for you all. Day one: Green hair. Day two: Pale skin and vomiting. Day three: Jaw pains and loss of all body hair. Day four... Day four was the day the rabbit got fet up, strangled me with its waistwatch chain, and dragged me down the hole. Actually, in retrospect, maybe Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland was inspired by... no, wikipedia says it was written fifty odd years before this whole thing began, so Lewis Carroll was just weird. Or possibly one of Satoshi Tajiri’s previous identities. The guy’s pretty slippery with those sorts of things. I’m getting ahead of myself. Why don’

I awoke feeling queasy, blinking the sleep out of my eyes as I hurriedly clambered out of bed and rushed for the door. My stumbling path took me across the landing and into the bathroom, just barely awake enough to kneel down before the flow began. It took me a good five minutes to clear my stomach. Thus, when my bladder desperately called for my attention, I had to groan in frustration. A flush, three minutes, and another flush later, I decided that I would stay home. I glared at my pale face in the mirror, noting my bloodshot eyes and my still mysteriously green hair, and slowly made my way back to my bedroom. My hands fumbled toward the

It all started when my hair turned green. Now, I’m going to be totally honest: I have a rather meh feeling toward the pokemon franchise. On the one hand, great lore, lovely mechanics, and the art’s pretty good too. On the other... well, you’re kidnapping various random critters and brainwashing them to be your loyal gladiators. Not the best impression, savvy? So when I woke up that morning, staring out my window at the streetlight of pre-down Texas, I did not immediately think how strange it was my dream involved alien gladiators. Because, all in all, my dreams are incredibly freaky. And mildly lucid. Kinda. No, what I wa