August 2022: Raid. On. Me.
At the height of hurricane season, we contemplate the vomit revolution, "balletcore", and whether insanity is in (it is).
At long last, we have returned to Rome, and our stomachs are full to the brim with bile, acid, and Catholic LARPing. We apologize for the lapse in newsletters, but we promise we have some very exciting things planned for the near future. It’s been an extremely sweaty couple of months; we, too, got raided by the FBI, for being too hot and sexy and sly for the tastes of a certain “dark Brandon.” Oh, mister officers—wait until you see how we barf!