nightmare.txt

< wpo> you're a typical cynical computerman goon with taste, rapidly evolving into an ulf in both life and your job
< wpo> you get promoted to senior software engineer
< wpo> and your wife, who you married years ago because you thought she could hang and she knew more about (insert sperghole here), buys you that shirt unironically
< wpo> what do you do
< wpo> you consider that maybe she bought it ironically but she wrapped it with a card saying "so proud hun!!". it confuses you because not two days prior she went on an extended rant about her coworker, and how she has it in her headcanon that "he's into vore and it should be okay because it's 2017 but he did it for all the wrong reasons" and you can't reconcile
< wpo> the woman you love with the fact that she bought this shirt
< wpo> actually come to think of it, this is probably the reaction she was after
< wpo> thinking it must be a joke, you walk into your garage and are shocked to see a stick figure family on your back windshield. is this real? is anything real?
< wpo> you run back into your house and your wife, who you no longer recognize, says "oh hey i threw out your blue ribbon campaign shirt, it just had so many holes in it! #lol"
< wpo> later that evening, you're laying in bed, shaking. your life, in one day, has transformed into something unrecognizable. can you really survive this existence?
< wpo> then, your wife curls up next to you and whispers in your ear:
< wpo> "basic is the new woke"