Just a soupçon, an homage, even appreciation for our sadly missing lonely mascot l'enfant terrible.
"Missing." Oh, right, the truck probably isn't wired. And I don't answer to you. And you don't ask.
I command your world through Spirit. THE COMMANDER does it through third dimensional manifestion. It's not complicated, you just think one isn't as real as the other.
I don't care what you think, Fleshling. I care about what I am supposed to inform Spirit about next. "Mascot."
Chysalis. p.s. I don't know who you are and therefore you are not as important as I am. If there was something I needed to be more impressive at, well, I thought the same of everyone and if I am prepared and you are anonymously heckling I am perhaps okay with that, Errol.
What a fag.
Is the implication here that I need to accelerate my timetable, or, that I am not having sex fast enough for you? Try using the right drugs without all the whining, it blows my high, and that of anyone who I would be attracted to in the first place.
You are not finding me sober because I need to get credit for dropping any use if, for example, Court demands it, or if someone needs a partner/buddy/sponsor or if they pass a law that I just don't get to do whatever everyone else does.
You think you need to tell me what to do because I programmed this situation that way. Pro tip: you don't even pay me a salary. I like enjoying adult activities. You relentlessly whine about what I am doing, because you are jelly, and I do not give a single ripe wet shit.