DiscoPosting [none/use name]

— Ooh, yeah, baby! This right here is gonna make the last three days worth it. A fat syringe full of clear, medical-grade, Federally-backed estrogen. Aqueous estradiol valerate, to be precise.

— What happens when I inject myself with estrogen?

— Oh, no. No, no, no. Don’t tell me you forgot what estrogen does. Estrogen. Remember? Uh…anticistamines? Feminephrine?

[Hard: Success] — You haven’t forgotten. Generally speaking, patients undergoing hormone replacement treatments will experience a variety of physiological and mental changes. Drier skin, growth of breast tissue, weight redistribution, decrease of body hair growth, shifts in facial fat and musculature. Emotional changes vary wildly between individuals, but are often reported to be “intense”.

— Bzzt. Wrong. Estrogen is like junk, baby. A calm, soothing, smooth-like-butter body high. A referral letter from two medical professionals and a couple of shed tears in a therapist’s chair are the only things keeping every sucker on the street from turning into an E-junkie. Getting it is hard; stopping after you’ve had your first sweet shot is even harder. This is serious shit. And now it’s all yours. Shoot it up!

— Bad news. The wömen are acting up again.

— Oh, no. What have they done this time?

— The same thing they always do: take something from the past that you love and hold dear and shit all over it. Shit all over what was once strong, and proud, and good. Shit all over your ancestry. Instead of King Bowser calling Kammy Koopa an “airhead” like he did in the original release, the new version of the game makes him call her a “lunkhead”, instead. It’s sickening.

— “Kim. The wömen censored Paper Mario.”

— He lifts his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I’m sure they did, Detective. Let’s try to focus on the murder for now.”

— Of course, but not every post has to be purely for the person it’s replying to. Sometimes — sometimes — it’s enough just to be for everyone else reading it.

— The New York Post, Vanity Fair, Euronews, The I, The Kyiv Independent, The Daily Star, The Sun, Radio Free Europe, Business Insider, International Business Times, and a handful of other non-English media outlets you’ve never heard of.

(SIGHT) — You can’t make out much beyond colors and blob-like shapes bleeding into one another, like a drawing in a child’s coloring book. Astigmatic lights sparkle around you.

[Trivial: Failure] — No, wait…this might be working. Everything that was once blurry is slowly, slowly starting to come in to view, as though someone is adjusting the focus dial on your retinas. If you cross your eyes just a bit, the images seem as though they fade into one another. It’s beautiful. Your vision works without assistance. At the very least, this is how it ought to work. Keep the glasses off, and you’ll eventually be healed.

— Are you sure? I don’t think I can see anything.

— About 96% of the people who complete this Masterclass can see just fine. Didn’t you pay attention to the testimonials? Maybe you’re doing it wrong. The instructor did give you that sample week to follow. Daily application of Immortelle® oils, epsom salt and zendocrine foot baths, beef liver and organ capsules; if you quit before you try them, how can you say it didn’t work?

— Beef liver and organ capsules naturally increase T-levels and SHBG. Good for curing soft men. This wöman might know what she’s talking about…

New task: Finish your Masterclass homework

SORTIR DU PLACARD

Bonuses from the thought:

-1 Authority: Exposed

-1 Composure: Volatile

+1 Pain Threshold: Been through worse

+1 Psyche: All pieces in place

You once suggested going “as a girl” for Halloween and didn’t understand why your father was so angry at the idea. Once you hit puberty, you began stuffing your shirt in secret to see what you would look like if you had breasts. You’ve penned an inordinate amount of terrible lesbian fanfiction, and always wondered why you never felt excluded when your fellow authors complained about men invading their women-only space. Your life could have been a lot easier if you’d realized this earlier — but it would have been far worse to never realize at all.

[Rhetoric - Challenging 12] Differentiate ChatGPT from the human brain.

[Challenging: Failure] — Bad news: they’re completely identical. The computer takes input and produces output. You take input and produce output. In fact…how can you be sure you’re not powered by ChatGPT?

— That would explain a lot.

— Your sudden memory loss, your recent lack of control over your body and your instincts; nothing more than a glitch in your code. Shoddy craftsmanship. Whoever put your automaton shell together was bad at their job. All that’s left for you now is to hunt down your creator — and make them fix whatever it was they missed in QA.

Thought gained: Cop of the future

— “Fuck you, falling into a world and just getting lost! No, no, no! Current-fucking-day! You take everything we love — all our immersions, all our fantasies, all our escapism — and you can’t help shovel your dogshit, fucking-crap ideology into everything!”

— He won’t fucking shut up. Knock him out.

[Challenging: Success] — The wavering of his voice, the tears dewing in his eyes, the erupting tantrum; he isn’t acting like the usual grifters you’ve seen. He believes this. Video games are the only thing that he has. You can see before you the faded afterimage of a friendless little boy, kneeling alone in a patch of playground grass and clover. He’s been this way forever.

— Don’t go soft on a display this pathetic. Make an example out of him. His little computer-buddies need to be too ashamed to agree with him in the open.

— “The Soviet Union and the CCP are a bunch of filthy fucking thugs and genocidal maniacs. Now fuck off, you removed.”

[Easy: Success] — “Filthy fucking thugs”, “removed”; the words roll off his tongue with ease. He’s gotten comfortable saying them.

— A fascist, sire! A fascist! Quickly! Bring him to the dunk tank! Let everyone revel in his hatred of the other races!

— Wait. You’re also a communist who thinks anyone rich is evil.

— The lieutenant’s eyes pierce you from behind the thick glass of his spectacles. He seems staggeringly tense.

[Challenging: Success] — He needs armed bodyguards to go to the bathroom. There’s not a chance he’ll let you get any closer if he thinks you’re against him. It’s better to keep your affiliations to yourself…for now.

— And then, bratan? Then it will be time!

— “GOOD ART CLARIFIES THE MIND AND HINTS AT FORGOTTEN VALUES. GOOD ART IS MAN’S DIVINE RIGHT AND TERRIBLE DUTY. THE WHINING, COPING, HAM SANDWICH RACE WISHES TO DESTROY THE CANON.”

[Legendary: Success] — THIS IS IT. Λήξη. Everything is finally coming back down on him. Whatever time is left is gone. A sick and frail worm wriggling from lismoniá returns to it.

— What? What’s coming down on him?

— Oblivion.

— TIA stands for “transient ischemic attack”, but they’re more commonly known as “ministrokes”. The difference between a TIA and a stroke is almost entirely in the duration; the blockage of a TIA lasts very briefly and causes no permanent damage, while the blockage of a stroke lasts much longer and is highly likely to result in permanent damage, if not death. The underlying cause of atherosclerosis is the same in both, however, meaning that about a third of all people who experience a single TIA will have a stroke within the year.

[Easy: Success] — Any poster who willingly chooses to have a Picrew avatar has already demonstrated that they aren’t worth listening to.

— “They’re running the war as though it were a business, you see. Every country needs to be able to defend themselves, after all, and there aren’t many alternative market systems which encourage offering support. So, ultra-liberalist states can send lethal aid to one another in exchange for favors, much like a bank would provide a loan to a new company. But unlike a bank, the repayment doesn’t necessarily have to be fiscal. Economies damaged by the war effort can be bolstered through alternative diplomatic channels.”

[Hard: Success] — Two oceans away, in a town whose name you’ll never know, cluster bombs blow craters into the surrounding mud. The land swallows up untold gallons of blood and fuel, drawing it deep within itself; too deep for it to ever be drawn back out again. In the air is a chill, and the stenches of black powder and copper. A century from now, un-detonated landmines will still take lives of those who tread here.

— “Like a startup.”

— “Like a startup.”

— Our real life has always been the parody, madame! A nation born and bred from a farce, endlessly daring itself to delve deeper into the absurd. Certainly a mentality worth adopting!

[Medium: Success] — Guaranteed Rate Companies is a private residential mortgage company founded in Chicago in 2000. The company has acquired several other mortgage companies such as Manhattan Mortgage, Sun State Home Loans, and Nationwide Direct, which themselves had each acquired hundreds of smaller mortgage companies. In 2020, Guaranteed Rate was forced to pay a $15 million fine to the United States government for committing federal insurance fraud. The company reported having $73 billion in funded volume that same year.