What does “Willoughby Whippets and Tibetan Spaniels” mean?
What inspired you to make this?
My indefinite unemployment.
Dolly is a SimLit writer who reads too much David Foster Wallace. Bite me.
Her body of work isn’t sufficiently complete for her to willingly accept her own death. As such, she’s also afraid of strangers on the internet figuring out who she is and murdering her, etc. Please don’t try to dox her before she gets tenure.
Simister is what happens when all the physiology of the body transforms into that of an adult and the mind remains exactly as it was in the peak of evil in the lifespan–middle school. Yes, imagine if, instead of your polo and dress pants you remained forever in that black trenchcoat and hot topic shirt sporting a logo of a punk band whose lyrics are 65% expletives. Imagine if, instead of developing adult relationships, you levelgrinded in a room in which you could not tell what hour of the day it was. Imagine if, instead of developing a sense of humor centered around the banalities of office life, you consumed three entire pints of ice cream and a liter of mountain Dew while bursting into hysterical laughter after daring your friend to google a penis. Imagine if, instead of managing your anger through adult outlets such as drinking and falling asleep alone, you created your enemies as virtual people and encased them in glass experimentation vials in an experimental laboratory you designed in the sims. Also, fire. Then, you would be SIMISTER.
Simister funded her existence by stealing candy from grocery stores and repackaging them in zip loc bags to sell to small children while crying out “Dolares dolares dolares give me money give me money.” On days when this does not suffice for sustenance Simister photocopies coupons. After the same 7/11 noticed that Simister brought in the same “free cookie” pamphlet 273 days in a row, Simister was forced to flee the country to Mexico where she now lives in her grandmother’s basement.