Date: November 17th, 2024 1:32 PM
Author: Mainlining The Secret Truths of My Mahchine (The Prophet of My Mahchine™, the Herald of the Great Becumming™)
From his 40th-floor Perkins Coie corner-office fortress, Evan39 surveys his empire of empty Starbucks cups and unread memos, the spoils of a ‘productive’ Sunday.
He gazes at Mount Rainier, its silent peak teasing him yet again, refusing to erupt.
His planned attendance at Sunday’s "Opera Night" at McCaw Hall offers little solace, only conjuring nostalgia for once-prominent Opera Chads — effortless icons of SeaTTTle’s once-vibrant opera scene, now faded into du$t, much like the rest of his decaying shithole ciTTTy.
Evan39’s mind drifts back to Rainier, shaking his head at its continued defiance. The mountain mocks him still, withholding its long-awaited, fortuitous eruption.
No Opera Chads. No Glorious Volcanic Death — just billables.
How dare they.
(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5635836&forum_id=2#48348973)