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rhettherring.bsky.social
Writer of strange fiction. Lover of strange things. Owner of a number of nom-de-plumes and a black cat named Lilith.
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I can laugh at the darkest moments of Angela's Ashes, but Reservation Dogs makes me cry at least once an episode.

Playing a gritty WW2 building to building warfare shooter feels downright cozy compared to having a dozen drones buzzing above your head when you leave cover.

I woke up an hour before my alarm with shreds of a dream clinging to my brain. I'm trying to figure out a puzzle that would challenge my cat, while not being frustrating. It would be interesting to see if cats appreciate achievement.

It feels like no one should have to say this, and yet we are in a situation where it needs to be said, very loudly and clearly, before it’s too late to do anything about it: The United States is not a startup. If you run it like one, it will break. 🔗 www.wired.com/story/the-us...

It turns out repetitive slices of cheese do not count as dinner, even if you clean your drug paraphernalia off of the kitchen table and light a candle before she arrives.

Surely you know better than to let an event agent into your own home. #nakedlunch

Ever since I've moved into a building with an elevator, I've had the urge to set up a go pro in the corner, don a filthy robe, and Blair Witch it in the corner. Somebody stop me before I have fun

The #squidbillies have taken over the country. It hurts when it isn't satire.

Is it wrong to fall asleep to a four hour loop of the Unsolved Mysteries theme? If it is, I don't want to be right.

For about ten years I've thought about what a Tom Waits TV Christmas special produced in the early 80s would have been like. It's almost real to me. The set is a Depression-era shack he built and a stream of celebrity hobos keep knocking on the door and Tom goes "I wOnDEr WHo tHaT cOuLd bE"

youtu.be/9ygsixNsPSc?... Look. Where have we gone. Who is in charge. What will they do.

Good damn it. I downloaded the live action Ghost In The Shell by mistake. I need to be more mindful.

Whenever I watch a film windowed at 480p I can hear my father roll in his grave. Luckily I rigged a dynamo to his coffin and his discomfort is feeding back into the grid.

Ahoy! I'm a somewhat published writer of strange fiction, horror, sci Fi, and other smut. This is my familiar, Lilith.

If civil war breaks out, meet me at the library.