so someone once called my old english teacher immature (because at this point he was spinning around on a wheely chair) and he said:
“Yeah, but the truth is we never really grow up. We just masquerade as adults because that’s what we’re expected to do.”
and to this day that is the single most profound thing i have ever heard uttered by someone dicking around on a swivel chair
friendly reminder we probably wont get to see the rest of john and dave meeting because we’re done with the panels for dave’s planet
Sh*t, it’s 2am, I meant to go to Bed Several Hours Ago: An Autobiography
Oops, It’s 4am, I Should Probably Go to Bed: A Memoir.
Bloody Hell, Is that the Sunrise?: A Thrilling Conclusion to the Trilogy of Regret
Fuck it, I’ll Just Attempt to Stay Up ‘Till Sundown: A Spin-Off
What Fucking Day Is It Anymore?: The Movie Adaptation
Rose Lalonde isn’t a pillar of ice. She’s a glacier.
When Rose is upset, you don’t see it. She doesn’t show it to anyone, you see. Anger or mild irritation? Yes, certainly. But sadness? Unhappiness, despair? No, those are hers, sealed beneath a wall of stiff upper lip and practicality. So when cracks appear in the glacier you don’t see them because they don’t happen on the surface first, they begin buried deep within the remnants of a frozen ocean chilled over by logic and an eternity of cocooning herself in a passive-aggressive attitude.
When you finally see the effects of despair or depression on the face of Rose Lalonde you do not see elegant tears, you see the entire wall of ice as it slips into the goddamn ocean and you get frighteningly catastrophic results.