I don’t go to cons to “have fun” or “attend panels”. I go to cons to wader the artist alley in a daze and emerge hours later missing $200. I go to cons to think “hmm I should get some food. But the line is too long right now” every five minutes into perpetuity. I go to cons to say “you look so cool” at people in cosplay and have them not to hear me even a little bit.
i need to eat a food. none of the food in the house is The Right Food. what is the right food? only god knows. and we're not on speaking terms right now.
Jonathan Sims, Knower of All Knowledge, and still can't make a decision on his own
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[ID: A drawing of Jonathan Sims and Martin Blackwood from the Magnus Archives, sat back to back. Jon is a brown man with mid length grey hair, wearing a green sweater. Martin is a fat white man with ginger hair tied in a tail in the back, and frosted white at the bangs and ends. He's wearing a pastel jumper. Jon is reading a book and Martin's on his phone. In green and blue text bubbles, their conversation is as follows: