Never Stop Posting at Night
What time is it? What is time? The glare from the monitor sears your eyeballs like the fire of a cold, uncaring blue sun. The only sound is the quiet whirr of your mouse, wheel spun in rapid fury like Ahab at the ship's helm; clicking 'refresh' like harpoons thrown into the savage dark after your prey.
From another room—or another dimension?—a loved one cries out, but you cannot abandon the quest that has consumed you wholly: someone is wrong on the internet.
100% cotton tee, lovingly screenprinted in sunny California.