Rorschach leans in, reading the agony aunt columns. It's the usual collection of woes of humanity. My husband cheats on me but I still love him, I'm no longer attracted to my girlfriend since she gained weight, and my dog is the only thing keeping me alive. Honestly, it's times like this that make the ghost glad he's already dead and no longer has to deal with all this bullshit.

"People are full of filth." That had been his take on the world since before he'd died. Most people tended to fill him with nothing put contempt.