Have I told you lately, reader, that I really, properly, stonkingly love how weird each and every single one of us are? Even if we manage to keep it on the quiet (which we may not: recently, my predilection for eating dry, buttered Weetabix for breakfast was shared at a company-wide meeting), we all have strange and specific depths. And when weird worlds collide, the weirdness refracts and becomes something else even more precious and strange. Like true crime and The Sims 4, for example.
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