there’s a new potent drug called “the bed” out on the streets. just one hit of the damn thing and you’re passed out cold, tucked in, multiple blankies, honking and shooing for hours. scary stuff.
imagine you're a fifth-grade teacher and one day a crow just flies into your classroom, steals some food, sits on some kid's head, and shouts "fuck off"
Every night at eleven I have to choose between enjoying the sweet embrace of slumber or staying up late to do something enriching and fun that I wouldn’t otherwise have the opportunity to do. And every night at eleven I take the secret third option of “doing nothing on my phone until one in the morning.”