TDS from the New Yorker
(media.communities.win)
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There's a lot packed in here. It's nighttime, and a reasonable hour to be asleep, as evidenced by her husband...er, spouse...uh, vaguely human-ish looking thing asleep or pretending to be asleep next to her. They've both got reading lights installed over their side of the bed, so it's not that they don't both read in bed at night, just the other person has called it quits. It's late. But she's still up anyway, on her tablet/kindle thing. She could be reading, sure--but let's be honest: She's hate-scrolling on the internet. Lo and behold, this leads her to hallucinate Donald Trump lurking in her super-weird non-opening window with way too much foliage overgrown against it.
Lesson: PUT THE INTERNET DOWN, LADY. YOU CLEARLY CAN'T HANDLE IT. Which is the most important lesson that all these metropolitan midwit types really need to internalize. You do not have the self-restraint, stoicism, self-possession, emotional maturity, and critical reasoning skills necessary to participate in online communication, even passively. Join the spouse you're actively ignoring, get a good night's sleep, then in the morning, both of you go out and find some grass to touch. Keep touching grass until you're not such a hysterical bitch anymore.
Also they are clearly not having enough sex because you read, then have sex, then get a good night's sleep. She can't sleep because her husband is a cuck who supports her in everything she does no matter how outrageous or ridiculous or just plain stupid. She is even sexually attracted to a Trump-like personality which frustrates her even more. You can't tell from the picture but the man is probably a pear shaped half man.