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Papers, Please
A Dystopian Document Thriller.

I’ve always wanted to be an immigration officer… 

Papers, Please is a puzzle video game developed by indie game developer Lucas Pope, focusing on the emotional toll of working as an immigration officer, deciding who to let in and who to exclude from entering the fictional dystopian country of Arstotzka.

Fidelma Moone, I’ve loved you from the very first moment I met you… Or, at least, from the very end of that month. I can’t tell you how proud I am that my seed is now growing inside your lovely big womb. But I’m not content with just showering your uterus with my love; I want to shower every other part of your body too, starting with your finger. Fidelma Moone, will you marry me?

Martin: Dad says that women are like men who’ve been hit in the head. Look at them all, talking about their periods and scrunchies and Patrick Swayze. 

Padraic: That’s not all they talk about, Martin.

[Cut to a bunch of girls in the lockers]

Girl: I was watching Patrick Swayze last night, in Dirty Dancing, and I got my period, and it hurt like an over tight scrunchie.

Adjia
Bought a brand new phone and I’ve decided to bring Adjia back as my wallpaper image. 
via Cowbird:

Almost everyone who’s been in my apartment has asked me about that striking ethnic-looking woman hanging on the wall.
That woman is Adjia, my mother’s mother. That photo was taken in the early 60s in Kabylia, northern Algeria. It was towards the end of the Independence war, when the French army was losing Algeria to the independence movement… It was pretty much over, the French army knew it all too wall and that’s when they got really mean. At one point, they raided my mother’s village and rounded up the villagers. People would be shoved into vans and taken god knows where… Then the van stopped, people would get thrown out… “A bit like the Auschwitz showers” my mother would tell me… “Were you going to get gas or water?”… When Adjia was taken out of the van, she wasn’t pushed against a wall and shot in the head because she had feeding war resistants. Instead, she had her mugshot taken as part of a census… Still, it’s no wonder she looks apprehensive in that photo.
I was born and raised in France but every summer my parents would take me to Algeria to stay with Adjia. She could only speak Berber and I could only speak French. Because we couldn’t really talk to me, she’d laugh a lot instead. As a way to express her fondness, I guess. In return, I’d sulk. Not being able to communicate with her bored me. Algeria bored me. But every so often her hand would plunge into her cleavage and retrieve a handful of sweets. A trick that never failed to win me over. Still managed to keep the rude act going. Adjia was rather amused by my bratty attitude, my own mother on the other hand was embarrassed and hurt, I could tell.
Adjia died in 1995 at the age of 75. I asked my mother for her “Auschwitz” photo and kept it in my wallet for more than a decade, until I scanned it, enlarged it and put it up on a wall. The scan also lived in my laptop for a while. Then I introduced it online as my facebook profile photo, took it to tumblr and twitter, transferred it to my iphone. I’m not sure what I’m trying to achieve by showing her off everywhere online… Two things that made her rather formidable: she fought for the independence (she did feed Algerian rebels during the war, by the way) and she kept copious amounts of candy in the depths of her cleavage, just for me.

Adjia

Bought a brand new phone and I’ve decided to bring Adjia back as my wallpaper image. 

via Cowbird:

Almost everyone who’s been in my apartment has asked me about that striking ethnic-looking woman hanging on the wall.

That woman is Adjia, my mother’s mother. That photo was taken in the early 60s in Kabylia, northern Algeria. It was towards the end of the Independence war, when the French army was losing Algeria to the independence movement… It was pretty much over, the French army knew it all too wall and that’s when they got really mean. At one point, they raided my mother’s village and rounded up the villagers. People would be shoved into vans and taken god knows where… Then the van stopped, people would get thrown out… “A bit like the Auschwitz showers” my mother would tell me… “Were you going to get gas or water?”… When Adjia was taken out of the van, she wasn’t pushed against a wall and shot in the head because she had feeding war resistants. Instead, she had her mugshot taken as part of a census… Still, it’s no wonder she looks apprehensive in that photo.

I was born and raised in France but every summer my parents would take me to Algeria to stay with Adjia. She could only speak Berber and I could only speak French. Because we couldn’t really talk to me, she’d laugh a lot instead. As a way to express her fondness, I guess. In return, I’d sulk. Not being able to communicate with her bored me. Algeria bored me. But every so often her hand would plunge into her cleavage and retrieve a handful of sweets. A trick that never failed to win me over. Still managed to keep the rude act going. Adjia was rather amused by my bratty attitude, my own mother on the other hand was embarrassed and hurt, I could tell.

Adjia died in 1995 at the age of 75. I asked my mother for her “Auschwitz” photo and kept it in my wallet for more than a decade, until I scanned it, enlarged it and put it up on a wall. The scan also lived in my laptop for a while. Then I introduced it online as my facebook profile photo, took it to tumblr and twitter, transferred it to my iphone. I’m not sure what I’m trying to achieve by showing her off everywhere online… Two things that made her rather formidable: she fought for the independence (she did feed Algerian rebels during the war, by the way) and she kept copious amounts of candy in the depths of her cleavage, just for me.