You wake up to the sound of Lady Gaga playing, your neck cramped from sleeping on the sofa. Your brain feels super foggy, but you’re pretty certain this is not your house. It looks like you’re in a tiny apartment, the kind of cramped space you haven’t seen since you last crashed with a friend in NYC.
Two women with slightly dubious noughties alternative lifestyle haircuts are hunched over some vintage-looking Macbooks, deep in concentration. You peer at what they’re working on, which seems to be some kind of blog with a mild Geocities vibe. How quaint! You do a double-take when you clock that it’s the Autostraddle front-page, but from way back when it first launched!
When Poker Face comes on for the third time in a row, the whole room starts wavering before your eyes and you realise that something is seriously wrong. You’ve somehow been thrust back to the year 2009, and something is playing havoc with the space-time continuum. The laptops suddenly power off, to panicked yelps. You lo...
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