It’s a place in Canada, I’ll reveal that much. It’s probably worse than New Jersey.

I’ve missed it once and took a trip all the way downtown and they didn’t bother to give me transfers, so thank god I had extra bus pass papers or I would’ve been fucked.

I’m also surprised nobody is mentioning the highway driveways. There’s like a line of houses all the way down the road on both sides, and even parking lanes for some stretches of it. Idk how the fuck anyone lives there. How do you ever pull out? And the noise: there are like semis passing down that road every minute. I can even hear that road from my room when I go to sleep or just bother to listen to the ambient noise. Why the fuck is it normal in this stupid ass place to have trucks passing by suburban houses?

I think my racist story is funnier than yours.

she also bought the same grandson a ride-able toy car, a toy police van. the three-year-old is too masculine for fisher price cheap plastic cars, lmao.

I hope to god that kid isn’t trans like me, because then they’ll be having a far worse life than even me.

omg that is so funny, your comment is like 15 times funnier than I thought it was.

oh, my parents and the people around there are fantastically racist. I remember my stepmother was complaining one time about how the temperature was too hot for her grandson at his daycare, because the owners were black and a bunch of kids in there were black and Africans are used to hotter temperatures so they kept the thermostat too high to accommodate for the black children, and Canadians (as if Canadians are a race) are used to lower temperatures, and her poor “Canadian” heat-intolerent grandson was sweating in there all day.

that’s terrorism, I’m reporting you to the relevant authorities.

Another day, another great joke.

I don’t like this “tax the bourgeoisie” stuff, it’s giving social democrat, and like, this obviously cannot be accomplished legally through the state, it’ll just never be allowed to happen legally. The premise of no taxes, but for billionaires already is advocating for overthrowing the government and creating a new one, because there’s just no other way to accomplish such a thing. If we can do that, then how about we just don’t have billionaires or millionaires. This is just a convoluted way of saying we should seize the means of production and put them in the control of a worker’s state, BUT THROUGH TAXES, so you don’t have to mention socialism.

I have a video of like a baby dust devil made of plastic wrappers I filmed in that place, but I don’t want people to pinpoint the city I live.

The public library is in the middle of a commercial district, between one of the malls I talked about and a Harvey’s. You know like those micro-parking lots where it’s like an alcove of a bunch of run-down stores. It’s in there.

There’s also an A&W stranded in the middle of one of the massive parking lots beside the Walmart. It has a dirty inclined glass wall where you can look out at the city around you. I was there once. it doesn’t feel like a place you’re supposed to be at all, because you can basically only access it by driving up to it in the corner of that parking lot. That glass window is one of the places where you can see like zero vegetation, just roads and parking lots and the Walmart. It pulls off the illusion because it sits at the bottom of a hill that is covered in urban development so it looks like the city covers the entire horizon and the sky isn’t real, it looks like a skybox.

There’s not even a corner store where I live, and you can’t walk to one because the only connection to the city is that stretch of road. It’s almost exclusively populated with middle aged middle class white people. You don’t even see anyone living in most of the houses, because either nobody lives there or they have other homes. And like fifty percent of them have plastic turf instead of grass (which is better for the environment probably with how you don’t have to fertilize it, but still, it’s like fucking Thneedville.) I’m here, because I’m still living with my parents and dormitories or an apartment would cost me one of my lungs.

And the tickets they give you for the transfers don’t correspond to the number you see on the bus, it’s not even on there, that’s some other system, so you just have to memorize which one is what route. First time I had to ask each of the drivers nervously if this bus went to [place I live] or not.