Dear Annie

Dear Annie has comments now.
Let's do this.

Dear Annie: When my birthday was coming up, I told my wife about a piece of technology I really wanted and asked her to buy it for me. It cost $300. She said it was too expensive and didn't get me anything except a card. 

Buy yourself the thing.

Come on bro.

In the past three weeks, she has purchased three birthday gifts for friends, each costing roughly $100. She put in a ton of effort to find exactly the right gift.
Am I justified in feeling hurt by this snub? Should I talk to her about it, or am I being petty?

Kill her and consume her brain so that you may gain her power.

I am a 62-year-old great-grandmother. Ten years ago, I committed a nonviolent felony. I served weekends in jail for a year, paid restitution, made every visit to my probation officer and complied with all of the other terms of my conviction and release.
I am honest with any potential employer about my past, my rehabilitation and my goal to never do a criminal act again. I have been a model citizen since this happened. I know I have to do better in my life than everyone else to make up for what I did. But I cannot get a job.
Society seems to view anyone who commits a crime as the scum of the Earth and not worth employing (unless you are a celebrity or have lots of money). Because I can't get a job, I cannot buy a car or find an apartment or even buy my grandchildren a candy bar. What is the point of "paying your debt to society" if "society" never forgives you? The death sentence would have made more sense than the five years' probation I received. No, I am not depressed, only stating what is true.

Top lel.
Shouldn't have committed the crime, then.
Like what are you doing committing nonviolent felonies at 52?

Dear Annie: My brother-in-law, "Tom," lives with us because he is not able to hold a job. Fifteen years ago, he moved to the Midwest with his wife and children. He was there for a year, and then his wife divorced him. We paid for his ticket home, and he lived with us for three months. He then moved to California to live with a cousin, but they threw him out when he couldn't hold onto a job and pay rent. He became homeless.
Tom moved back into his mother's house and found work, but only for a brief time before he was fired. Any money he had saved, he spent in bars and on women. When Mom went into a nursing home, Tom couldn't pay the upkeep on the house, so he rented it out and ended up homeless again. So we took him in.
We helped Tom get food stamps and a part-time job. He sees a counselor once a month. Our only rule is that he has to be in by 9 p.m., because I work early, and when he comes home late, it wakes me up. But Tom has a hard time following this.
Tom continues to make poor choices, and I am afraid he will end up living with us permanently. Why is he this way? And what can I do to help? — Miserable Sister-in-Law 

Throw the cunt out.
Annie needs to step it up. These are fucking gimmes.
None of these problems have required more than a sentences to correct.

Dear Annie: As a registered nurse and a patient who has had many dental procedures, I cringe every time I get into a dentist's chair. The reason is the overhead light — the one that the hygienist or dentist can adjust and lower. The hygienists and dentists wear gloves, but the gloves protect them, not the patient. They put their gloved hands in patients' mouths and then reach up and adjust the light as needed, time after time. Their gloved hands transfer bacteria from a patient's saliva (and sometimes blood) to the light fixture. Then the next patient gets in the chair, and the procedure is repeated.
I don't see how they can avoid transferring harmful bacteria and viruses from one patient to another unless they clean the light fixture off between every patient. I hope I'm wrong, but I have never seen or heard of this being done.
I learned sterile procedure in nursing school. If they teach sterile procedure to hygienists and dentists, they don't seem to be using it in my dentist's office. — Nervous Patient 

What the fuck 3rd world country are you going to to have your teeth worked on? At my dentist there's a cover over the light that gets changed between patients.

Dear Annie: I'm a 59-year-old non-working female who has been married for 20 years. I thought my husband was a wonderful man, but 10 years ago, he removed my name from our joint bank accounts. I worked for 30 years. I now find myself with no money and no job. I have to depend on my husband for everything. He doesn't give me money unless I beg for it.
Is there anything I can do legally to persuade him to give me an allowance? He says he pays all of our bills, so I don't need any money. Our three children agree with him. For health reasons, I cannot return to work. What can I do? — Confused

Well I mean women shouldn't be in charge of the finances so what's the problem?
Only joking.
Mostly.
But seriously your kids agree with him so that tells me you're not telling the entire story.
What is it?
Pills?
Uppers?
Downers?
The drink?
Hashish?
Soma?

Dear Confused: Because your husband and your children all believe you should not handle money, we have to ask whether there is a reason. Do you gamble? Do you overspend? Even so, you still should be allotted a small amount of money for personal use. 

Even Annie is calling your shit.

Dear Annie: I am very close to my 12-year-old grandson. His family life is not good, and since his parents live nearby, the boy is at my house more often than not.
The problem is, he started sleeping with me when he was a baby and still does it. I have addressed this issue several times and told him he's too old to crawl into bed with Grammie. But he cries and pleads with me, saying how much he loves me, and that he wouldn't be able to sleep otherwise. I always give in, because deep down, I'm happy to have him with me.
My husband sleeps in another room due to health issues. He definitely thinks the boy should be sleeping in his own room, and we've had several arguments over this issue. This is such a stress on me every night. Please give me some advice. — Grammie 

Dude.
Just tell his friends. They'll call him a faggot until he stops.

Dear Annie: Did you know that an estimated 16 million youth participate in volunteer activities in the U.S. every year, and that by volunteering these young people will perform better in school? These amazing kids do everything from collecting gently used books and developing literacy programs to creating anti-bullying campaigns in school districts. All of these remarkable youth have a common goal: to raise awareness and solve the problems facing the world today.
To celebrate their ingenuity, idealism and passion, please remind your readers that Global Youth Service Day (GYSD) will take place April 11-13, 2014. Last year, young people around the world came together and participated in nearly 3,500 projects. Additionally, thousands of community partners in more than 135 countries brought together millions of young people to strengthen their communities through the power of youth volunteering.
For more information, your readers can visit www.GYSD.org. — Sincerely, Steven A. Culbertson, President and CEO, Youth Service America 

CEO and president of this company probably isn't donating his time.
All that free child labor and we have to act like you're some great saint.
Also most of the kids I see doing service learning hours are just ticking off boxes to graduate and get into college.

Dear Annie: Cremation seems to be getting more popular, but advisory notices from the cremation societies all say that there is at present no way of extracting DNA from cremains.
I feel the funeral homes should be obligated to preserve a DNA sample, even if it is a lock of hair. Some years ago, a woman named Anna Anderson claimed, probably sincerely, that she was Grand Duchess Anastasia from the Czarist Romanov family. A DNA sample proved otherwise. She had been cremated, and no one ever would have known the truth, but fortunately, a body part from an earlier operation had been preserved.
I realize that was an unusual case, but it did solve a mystery, and there may be others waiting to be solved. Perhaps people could make a provision in their will that a DNA sample be preserved. — P.J. 

Well if a crazy wants to claim outlandish things then maybe that's her business.
Is that seriously your argument for this non-issue?
This isn't even in response to an earlier letter. This is apropos of fucking nothing.
Like what, you're just sitting around your grotto thinking about how DNA should be preserved in case of cremation? Even at my most hopelessly unemployed point I had better shit to worry about.

I am a 13-year-old girl whose best friend (I'll call her "Blue") has become very rude and even annoying. I can no longer make a comment about something without her answering nastily or adding logic to imaginary scenarios that aren't intended to be logical. It's irritating.

The problem is she's a 13 year old girl.

We have another friend, "Violet," who is very creative and loves to draw. So do I. But when I showed Blue a picture I had done, she said, "Violet is way better than you are." This hurt my feelings, and I was angry. When I consulted Violet, she said Blue had been rude and annoying to her, too.
We don't want to offend Blue or lose her as a friend, but frankly, we can't handle her anymore. What should we do? — Red in Nevada

Sodomize her with a pipe.
Or call her a cunt.
Or stop talking to her.
The good news is at 13 you don't even have to act human and it's like what's expected of you.

Dear Annie: My wife and I have been happily married for eight years. This is a third marriage for both of us.
A few months back, my wife found that I had been visiting Internet porn sites. She became very upset and said this was the same as having sex outside of marriage.
This is something I'm not proud of and resolved not to do it again. Well, a few days back, in a moment of weakness, I typed in "nude beach." She says this is the same as a porn site. I feel it isn't, because it is a public beach.
Seeing how much pain I caused my wife, I won't go to that site again. However, I would like your opinion. Is this the same as adultery? — No Cheater

Clearly she's not letting you give her the tip enough and therefore porn is a reasonable substitute.
I don't understand this problem. You're both on your third fucking marriage. What does she expect at this point?
Clearly she either can't pick better or shouldn't expect better.
If all a guy is doing is looking up internet porno-- which is free-- to piss you off, then I'd say you should count your blessings.

Dear No Cheater: Deliberately searching out "nude beach" is a way to look for naked bodies without using the word "porn," but the effect is similar. And while looking at naked bodies is not the same as adultery, it is still a betrayal if it hurts your wife and you have broken your promise to stop. And if you are interacting in real time with real women online, we would consider that a form of cheating. You seem to have a problem with pornography. If you cannot stay away from it, consider that you may have an addiction that requires treatment.

Or you could jerk off to your thoughts.
No way she'd expect that.
I dunno, Annie. Pretty weak selection this time.
Where are the real problems?
Not some whining 13 year old and some dude jerking off to redtube.
HELP A BROTHER OUT, ANNIE
FUCK
Song of the now. Someone at a school I was substituting at reminded me this existed.

Based Korea

North Korea is best Korea.

i sleep in the most distorted positions and wake up to confused stares too fucking often. last night i fell asleep on my stomach with my right leg completely tucked under my body and my left leg normally and somehow didn't wake up a paraplegic. 

Do a lot of people watch you sleep or something?
How do you wake up to confused stares (plural)?
OOOR ARE YOU SOME KINDA FUCKING WHOOOORE

i regret plenty of things, i'm grateful that none of them involve other people. jesus christ, the last thing i need on my conscience is to owe anyone anything, especially something as essentially meaningless as an apology. i have already apologized to everyone for everything. sometimes rebounds happen before the relationship is over, i should know this better than anyone. (those two statements are not related.) i'm actually not in love with myself, despite what everyone else thinks. 

So you just act like a cunt, you're not actually a cunt?
That's some Zen logic I guess.
Zen logic in reverse. Jesus Christ.

i miss you, but not like everyone else misses you. - yana (this is the most echoed sentiment in my ears lately.)

my new favorite color is green, my new favorite season is spring. a long time ago it was red and fall. i'm okay with things coming back to life.

i wonder how many car accidents there were today.

Would you believe these disconnected sentences about nothing are in fact the same post and I haven't edited anything?
Also how many car accidents were there today?
One fewer than there needed to be if you're still alive.

the fact that i've seen what staph looks like under a microscope and still have it in me to stick my hand in my mouth, all my face holes inches away from where several other people's asses live, finger fuck the flap of skin at the back of my throat until i have nothing left in my stomach either says so much about one thing or so little about another.

ANOREXIA/BULIMIA BLOG ALERT!
I didn't know otherwise I would have not read this.
Fuck it I'm going in!

there's something sick and sad about someone who has spent the majority of your time together taking you for granted saying to you one day 'you deserve better'

ha ha ha
ha

no, really. i appreciate the sentiment but coming from someone with such little regard for my feelings it means almost nothing.

there's something fucked up about the man who cheated on me asking me why i'm angry and then when my answer is 'because you made poor choices' he feels "bashed". he keeps telling me it's the way you're saying it. and admittedly i have been trying to tiptoe around his feelings, cry more quietly, feel more softly. because i love him and always will despite this. i may not be in love with him anymore but i will always love him.

but then today i thought. holy shit, you cheated on me! why is how my pain makes you feel the most urgent issue here?

piece of shit, all of them

"I make shitty life decisions and date assholes"
"all men are therefore assholes"
White wahms

when he first broke the news i sat in bed, rocking myself back and forth crying and involuntarily repeating the words oh man. in the days following, i broke down in tears over a peanut butter sandwich, in the bathroom taking a piss, staring at myself in the mirror, numerous times in bed and in showers, driving to and from work, tying my shoes, grocery shopping, walking to my car from my car.

"Walking to my car from my car"
Errr--

i didn't immediately leave and then i did and he said, 'i will fix this, i will fix it, i will be the best man that i can to you for the rest of your life because you deserve it', and i thought about it, and about why it hit so hard. then i remembered a similar jarring realization i'd had about 5 years ago regarding my parents, and the fact that even though i had spent so many years looking to them for truth and guidance and love, they are not infallible mutants. they're human with human wants and selfish needs, he too is human. i put all of my faith in his perfection that did not exist.

so i says to him, i says: i love you so much and i forgive you. neither one of those things means i am coming back.

UHHHHHHHH

i danced today and rediscovered some of my favorite music. i shaved my legs for the first time this year last night, climbed into clean sheets, pulled the curtains open, listened to the cars drive on wet pavement and watched the sky turn from grey to black to pink. i woke up this morning still feeling good. i masturbated and did not cry. 

>Shaved my legs for the first time this year
>post made: March 28
I'm not excusing his shitty behavior but I think I see why he's cheating.
Make
an
effort

merry christmas. i fucking hate myself.

I hate you too.
MERRY CHRISTMAS FROM THE FUTURE.

6AM narcissism and mania is the best tasting thing in the world next to the blood in my mouth from chewing my face. after being the best daughter ever and eating all the mashed potatoes in the world, the whole thing, I came back to my apartment so I could be naked everywhere. i lie on the couch naked, eat my fingernails naked, fold the laundry naked, watch the Dow plummet naked. I wish it was December so I could sit on my boyfriend's face and contemplate things like genetic algorithms while concentrating on his muffled sighs and imagining the way I'll sign my name after we're married.

Lol so deep and poetic
Protip: he's cheating on you.

Also the fact you "wished it was December" so he'd dig out your blood-streaked spam sandwich with his tongue tells me it's a long distance relationship and as we all know those are doomed to failure.
my internal thoughts never leave the confines of my interior mind or any part of me, and the only parts of me that exist outside of myself are content, lost in the woods and staring at stars. i am concerned with little else. i'm proud of myself, everyone else is too.

I'm not proud of you in the slightest.
In fact, after getting up at 11, gawking at my Korean visa for a while, then playing video games all day this is probably the single most disappointing aspect of my day. Knowing you have to exist..

three years ago i wasn't eating or talking and my free will to make grown up adult decisions was being threatened by my dad trying to become my legal guardian. as if his authority over my right to do things, had anything at all to do with my mental state or the condition of my psyche.

CLEARLY YOU SHOULDN'T BE MAKING YOUR OWN DECISIONS.
This blog is rapidly updating itself as I read it.
These entries are from 2012 and there are now about 7 more since I started from later dates.
I guess she's porting over from Livejournal or something.
Because, you know, one copy of this brilliance isn't enough. I need it in at least 5 locations.

the 60 degree weather at night has me excited for fall. i bought my huge water bottle two months too late. i'm turning 26 in nine days. i feel completely detached from almost everyone. i'm not sure how i feel about ghosts. sometimes the removal of a part is beneficial to the whole.

Oh huh I'm 26 and I'm going on a great adventure in a month. What's it like knowing your life is a dismal failure?

i've been contemplating suicide lately. in a completely non-dramatic let me just weigh all of the options kind of a way. this october is the worst one in four years. after the ssri's, ambien and benzos i mostly forgot about 2008's october so i can't fairly compare 2012 and 2008. i'm lucid this time around but only until i schedule a doctor's appointment. i don't feel shame in self-sedating when it means that i'll get to emerge in the spring, alive and breathing and at least live long enough to see if this ever gets easier.

that being said, if any of you click the comment link to tell me that yes, things get easier, or to "hang in there" i will delete you. i'm not kidding. obligatory sentiments however well intended only make these instances worse, for the record.

I can't believe anyone cares enough to even comment.
You're a fucking mess and not a fun one either.
You know evolution is just the creature most adapted to its environment. Increasingly, humanity is turning inwards so as humans become more and more connected and social the reality of needing to be socially graceful will be met and therefore I contend drains on the spirit like this need to be selected out of the gene pool.
There's an interesting idea for a story, in fact.
Also this is probably the fastest I've ever reviewed a blog. This is being generated as I review it.
UPDATES MIGHT BE SLOW NOW BUT NOTHING ESCAPES MY SIGHT.

today is the first day this week that my pupils have been dilated past the size of the point of a number two pencil. i'm not as concerned as i should be about all these lateral moves to nowhere or if i'm fulfilling a goal or becoming better or worse every day. the transitioning from warmer months into the colder ones always takes a toll on me. and for some reason i always emerge in the spring less than i was in september.

Hey
I got something to say
it's better to buuuuurn out
than fade away

i know too many people who have too much to say about fucking nothing.

Yeah and I'm reading one of their blogs right now.

i'm listening to john denver, opening windows, cleaning, simplifying my simplicity. i'm making yana write a book with me. i want to buy a telescope and travel to jordan. my favorite sound this week is the phlegm loosening from my chest. i'm writing my brother's senior thesis because i'm bored.


i enjoy spending time with myself more than i used to.

"Oh but," I'm sure she'd argue, "this is just a little bit about nothing."
Yeah well that's a moot argument. When there's something at all about nothing you've wasted my fucking time.
Fuck you.
70% of my time is spent studying in my underwear and drinking alcohol with getting drunk not being the ultimate goal. the other 30 is equally split between thinking about irrelevant bullshit and what i'm going to be for halloween. i feel incredibly mature though. i'm turning 24 in 2 weeks and hitting the 2 year mark with carson, and paying 15k to sit in a class and stare at power points in my designer prescription glasses while i think about fucking my boyfriend. sometimes i think everything's gonna be okay.
I'm having difficulty imagining anyone would put it in her.
Like that is seriously
genuinely flooring me right now.

my life amounts to nothing outside of masturbating, assorted pills, tvland, and shopbop.com. i'm such a selfish piece of shit. i came three times tonight and bit my lip hard enough to draw blood. i fucking love the taste of blood.

Well that's a thing someone wrote and I read.

if you attract people like me, something is wrong with you.

Fortunately I'm sure you'd hate me so I think I'm ok.
Apparently this blog has existed since 2010.
How is it she's posted 123 times today from different dates?
Maybe she's just now making these public.
Well whatever.
No new posts and I'm officially out like shout because fuck this.
Song of the now.

What the fuck am I reading

So today's entry seems to fancy himself some sort of combat master.
He talks about some hand to hand security class like he's being tactically indoctrinated via hypnocasket by the Ultramarines.
Today I went to my first upper belt class for martial arts. It wasn't at all what I was expecting, and I have no idea if it was a "normal" class or not.
Well it starts with 5 minutes in the pain glove.
Not sure what that is?
Well fuck you.

It seemed more technical than the other classes I've been to, less strength-building and more fine-tuning techniques. We spent about an hour of the two-hour class doing nothing but spinning crescent kicks, over and over and over. The rest of it was mounting holds and throws. That was a lot more fun than the kicks, which got really, REALLY old after a while.

Well, you know, it's like Bruce Lee said:
I fear more the man who has practice 1 kick 10,000 times than the man who has practiced 10,000 kicks one time.

I am happy to report that I survived my personal security course this weekend. Yay! Thirty hours of intense hand to hand self defense training, full contact with no rules except to survive at any cost. It was a phenomenal experience. 

Or Deathwatch training, as we usually call it.
Surely you didn't think you could wear the black without training?
Intense assassination, evasive, breaching and barricade/hostage training.
It's the business a space marine isn't used to. It's the training that sets you apart from normal space marines.

The basic premise of the weekend was stress inoculation and violence desensitization. We learned that the primary mistake most people make when they're in a violent situation is that their brains go into vapor lock. 

Gotta accept the hypno indoctrination from the Deatwatch before they let you in as a full member. Loyalty to the chapter is subsumed by loyalty to the Deathwatch.
This isn't a comfortable reality for any marine.

We learned gun and knife disarms. 

You know the thing about a good knife attack is you don't realize you're being shanked until it's too late. If he's waving it in front of your face usually he's doing it wrong.
Also a gun disarm, really?
That sounds like a great way to get shot.

We learned how to channel our fear and shock into rage. Flipping a switch in our brains that says "Not me, not today" and then going forward with everything we have in order to make sure we survive the encounter. Constant forward motion is the key, and not backing down until the threat is neutralized.

Yeah, okay.
In her head she's thinking this is what's happening now:

But the reality is probably closer to:

Boy I sure am glad I have to agree I'm 18 or older to read this.

It's official: I am now a gold belt. Woohoo!!!

So this is you now, huh?
Here's a post entitled "early released"
can you believe today was a 2 hour delay then we got out early because of the ice?
North Carolina has lost its mind.
God I'm tired. Fuck this.
NO SONG OF THE DAY NO TIME FOR THAT.

When the shit jumps off what the fuck you gonna do

Holy shit Elder Scrolls Online
I signed an NDA saying I wouldn't talk about it or they'd ban me but who gives a shit
being banned from that steaming pile would be the greatest favor anyone has done me in the last year.
I don't know what the fuck they're thinking like holy Christ on a cross.
Character customization in an Elder Scrolls game?
Fuck off. We can just have the same 5 boring MMO jobs and dress it up a bit with skills that level independent of each other except not really because who will use healing staves as a thief--
no one.
Also the game has bad controls.
I know that seems impossible because MMOs are maybe the genre where controls matter the least but this game has bad controls.
I swear it's true. I have never played an MMO that felt floaty before.
 And remember I was addressing the plot and how it makes no sense to give it any sort of mystery because we know for a fact none of this shit matters because the games that have already come out don't even mention this supposedly important event when they still talk about Arena which was literally 15 years ago real life time and in game it was hundreds?
Yeah they further cripple themselves by having the typical "you are fated to save the world" plot.
Like how is that even possible?
Is everyone playing this game fated to save the world?
How?
If I'm fated to save the world why all the tension?
It's going to happen.
God fuck that game holy shit I'm so disappointed
ANOTHER GREAT GAMING SERIES RUINED BY THE LURE OF WORLD OF WARCRAFT MONEY.

I went for a nice long hike today at the park. About three miles, just me.

It felt great.

You know what doesn't feel great?
The Elder Scrolls Online.

In a fit of nostalgia (or maybe just to pull myself out of the desert of non-fandom things) I've been having a resurgence of love for a lot of fandoms. Last year was the first time Cowboy Bebop was Yuletide-eligible and I got a great Bebop/Go the Fuck to Sleep crossover. This year I requested and offered Bebop.

Cowboy Bebop has a great soundtrack.
Great animation
great story.
10/10 would watch.
You know what's a great idea for a show principally about loss, wandering and not finding your place in the world all set to blues music?
Tons of poorly written fanfiction.
You know, because the show with these lines:

The real folk blues
I only want to know what true sadness is
Sitting in muddy water
Isn't such a bad life
If it ends after the first time

in its ending theme is really going to lend itself well to a bunch of bints writing xDfanfic!!!
That's one of those shows that was such a masterstroke of storytelling sometimes I can't even fucking believe it.
You watch all of the episodes and you want more but at the same time you don't because there is absolutely nothing further to add to the story. It did exactly what it should have done.
In conclusion why the fuck are you writing fanfiction about it?
The characters can't be fleshed out further. It is literally a character study of about 7 people.

So who's finished reading Allegiant and what did you think?

ETA: expect spoilers in comments, naturally.

I'm a grown adult so I don't read books for children.
Sorry m8.

A tiny rant first:

So what is the deal with these twitter spammers favoriting old and irrelevant tweets? The profiles are ridiculous. Check this one out:

I'm a SPED teacher/coordinator in the Bronx. I provide interesting links on education, sustainabilit

redmond, washington. usa

Okay, last I looked, Redmond is nowhere near the Bronx. 

I have no idea what any of this means.
Who cares?
Is your life so devoid of problems you have to resort to finding issues with people on Twitter?
Good for you, then.
Your life is amazing.

It's interview time.

In a never-ending quest to get to know my original characters better, I'm opening two of them up to be interviewed. The year is 2001, they're both 20-somethings, one male, one female. They're not a couple, although they do know one another. Will you come play with them? Here's what I'd like:

- direct the question to one or the other, either the male or the female.
- ask a question, any question. Nothing's out of bounds, although depending on who answers, there might be a slight sense of propriety about it, I won't know until I get there.
- you can of course ask more than one question or ask questions of both characters, just let me know which one for which question.

I'll answer from them, in character, and thank you profusely for your time.

What the fuck why

People have no idea how to write, do they?
I mean Jesus fuck me that is not how you create a character.

Mac or PC? It's finally time for a new laptop.

4 comments. Let's see what wins (Mac)

Mac, I've got a MacBook Pro and love it so very much. Its lighter, faster and all around better than the various PC laptops that I've had over the years.

Wow what a shock.

This is so great. Everyone who's responded has been firmly on the Mac side. I'm leaning so far toward it I might just fall over now.

Is the response. Keep this in mind.

It sounds like you've already decided, but I need to vote PC anyway

Says one person who cares here's her response though:

Au contraire, mon frere (that makes no sense, I know), I am surprisingly neutral still.

What?

>leaning so far towards Mac you could fall over

>surprisingly neutral

>leaning strongly towards something

>neutral

?????

 How old is too old to learn to ride a skateboard?

Opinions, please.

9.

Failing that: you have a kid old enough to leave home alone.

You're too old.

Fuck.

Anyway this blog is really boring and I don't give a shit about any of this fanfiction crap.

It's just a bunch of bullshit stories written by wahms who don't know the first thing about anything

I'm going to bed

fuck

A roaring start

So against all odds I got into the Elder Scrolls Online beta!
Holy shit, yet another mediocre WoW clone to ruin a once great franchise?
Could it possibly be that time already?
Count me the fuck in!
And we're off to a roaring start. I can't even RUN THE FUCKING LAUNCHER.
This is the step before installing the game and it doesn't even work.
Bang up job, Bethesda. 10/10 would definitely pay money.
This computer can run Crysis on maximum but it can't just run a Bethesda installer you fucking
idiot
fuck.
Oh there we go.
Obviously I have to let it hang for 10  minutes, then crash it, then wait another 30 seconds for it to say it finished installing.
I guess a crash landing is still a landing.
And the game is 21 GB.
Of course.
That's like the size of 2 games.
This game better be double as good as Deus Ex: Human Revolution.
I haven't even booted the game up yet and already I'm fucking angry and underwhelmed.
I'm underwhelmed from my expectations of this ruining the franchise.
Somehow my expectation of "franchise ruiner" hasn't even been met.
Oh yeah, in a franchise that includes games for the Nokia N-Gage and the award winner that was Redguard, Elder Scrolls Online will somehow be the worst.
The kicker, to me, is when they were drilling me about the lore and one of the questions starts with "of the fivet Elder Scrolls games..."
Five?
What about Redguard or Battlespire?
I'm not counting the cellphone ones.
There are 7.
The company that makes these games doesn't even know what the fuck.
Doomed from the start.
Oh right. Blogs.

I sort of saw this coming. I mean, the question when you're about to retire is "What are your plans?" My answer has been, "To do nothing for a while and see what develops."

And you can't tell me Redguard and Battlespire aren't important in terms of the story. Battlespire in particular introduced the Ideal Masters and the Havoc Wellhead's collapse caused all sorts of long term shit.
In fact if I'm remembering right the number of internal references to other Elder Scrolls games in Skyrim the most was Oblivion, the game that came right before it, then Battlespire, inexplicably.

Why the Cult of Hard Work is Counterproductive, an absolutely wonderful article by Steven Poole published in New Statesman a couple of weeks ago, goes into "why doing nothing may be the best thing for your well-being and your brain."

Though it's a British article for a British publication and doesn't even mention the word "American," it has a huge bearing on a discussion of American-versus-European concepts of work and leave time that several of us were having here on my journal a few days ago.

Oh good.
Let me just sit here and the money will fall into my wallet.
I've been waiting for this to happen.
Also Elder Scrolls Online takes place in the second era.
When Molag Bal tried to pull Coldharbor into Nirn.
Remember when that happened?
All the times in one of the other games when someone said "hey, this is a lot like that time THE UNIVERSE ALMOST COLLAPSED IN ON ITSELF IN THE SECOND ERA"?
Remember that?
No?
Me neither.
Fuck.
It's pretty clear none of this shit matters because the next closest game chronologically is Redguard and no one mentions it once.
It's a mere 300 years after the entire universe almost ended and it's not even a footnote in history.
People still talk about the end of the first era like it personally affects them when that was more than 1000 years ago, but Coldharbor getting pulled into the material universe?
Ain't nothing to it, really.

I'm about ninety percent through Elizabeth Gilbert's The Signature of All Things, and I'm just...gah! I love it so much, and it cuts so close to the bone for me, that unless Gilbert completely ruins it in the home stretch, it will be one of my favorite novels ever.

It's difficult to discuss without revealing significant themes and plot points, but it probably won't spoil the story to say that for the bulk of its many, many pages (or, in my case, hours of audiobook) it's about a female character in her fifties: an intelligent, erudite, repressed, perfectionistic, obsessive and--not incidentally for me--very big, unattractive--woman who doesn't break out of her chrysalis until late in life.

You know the beauty of the Elder Scrolls was it was a very alien setting and yet nothing that happens in it seems dumb or made up.
Like you could really imagine this shit happening in some far off, alien landscape.
Oblivion kind of fucked that up by making everything look like Renaissance England but they're clearly trying to address that.
Or they were until this mess.
Then they just plonk down this cataclysmic event in the past that no one seems to remember.
It might seem like I'm picking on a small plot point but there was another event that happened in Elder Scrolls mythology called The Warp in the West where all of reality was rewritten due to the providence of this one artifact and yet that history is clearly recorded.
Oh yeah the timeline crunching from multiple paths to linear time is easily documented but a major fuck off event we should have noticed?
No one has time for everything, shit.

Hard drive failure is what I'm (pretty sure I'm) talking about here. This Dell Studio workhorse laptop has weathered four and a half years of my significant demands, but is finally showing signs of...something.

Remember when hard-drive failure was a major catastrophe? Now, not so much. Virtually everything I need to save is in the cloud already. 

The porn cloud.
Also hard drive failure on a laptop is pretty catastrophic.

Does anyone use a solid-state drive? And if so, was it a replacement for an older HDD? How'd that go? 

No it wasn't.
Considering all you do is write fanfiction it's probably fine.
Fucking Elder Scrolls Online.
Fuck this blog, too. Jesus. I was supposed to be updating this blog but I can't even focus on how shitty it is between the boredom of having to read it and staring at the Elder Scrolls Online patcher.

Let's do this

Hope you got your freedoms close to you because it's time for some motherfuckin' Dear Annie.

Dear Annie: My wife and I have been separated for four years. We have joint custody of our beautiful 8-year-old daughter. "Lizzie" spends half the week with me and the other half with her mother. It works out well, and Lizzie fully understands that she now has to live in two separate, loving homes.
Here's the problem: When going to gatherings and parties, my mother's friends and other family members feel the need to say, "It's so nice that you guys share her right now, because when she gets older, you know she's going to want to live with her mom full time." Or, "What are you going to do when she's a teenager and only wants to stay with her mom?" They then begin to tell me stories about their divorced son or a friend's son to whom this has happened. 

Who cares?
People are going to run their fucking mouths no matter what you do so just teach your daughter early that people are assholes and there's not much that can be done about it.

Dear Annie: I hope you can help me with an unusual request. I am a very heavyset female, and there are some parts of my body that I can't reach to wash. Because of that, I have an odor that I hope no one else can smell, but I'm not sure. Is there any place where I could get these private parts shaved? I am sure that would help a lot.

 FUUUUUUCK
FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUCK
Picture added by me, obviously.
In case you thought Dear Annie suddenly turned hardcore.

Dear Ms. Bit: You would have to ask at a salon whether they would shave you. You might have better luck with a bikini wax.

Oh Christ.
Hang on I'm going to see how much a bikini line waxer makes--
Google recommends I search for "how do I get a bikini wax while pregnant" instead.
If that's a serious concern you have should you be raising a child?
I don't know.
Anyway I'm getting off topic.
The answer, I found out, is 26,000 dollars on average.
And I in other news I have found the most underpaid career in America.
And you thought it was teachers, bah.

For permanent hair removal, you can check into laser therapy or electrolysis, although both require multiple treatments and are not inexpensive. In the meantime, look into installing a handheld shower sprayer and check online for easily available hygiene products geared toward those hard-to-reach places.

HOW ABOUT YOU LOSE SOME GODDAMN WEIGHT
ONCE YOU CAN NO LONGER CLEAN THE FISH HOLE OUT IT'S TIME TO LOOK INTO  MAYBE SPENDING SOME TIME ON A MOTHERFUCKING TREADMILL.

Dear Annie: I have lupus, but because I usually look OK, people assume I'm doing fine. I am part of a small group of Christian ladies that meets monthly. Often, I'm unable to attend because I'm not well. I notify our group's coordinator and tell her specifically what is wrong that day — headache, fatigue, achiness, etc. — so that the ladies can pray for me. No one has ever called to check on me afterward. 

Take solace in your voodoo and be done with it.

Dear Annie: My sister-in-law, "Marie," has been diagnosed as bipolar, but doesn't take any medication. For 25 years, it has caused serious trouble. Marie is a spiteful, evil, controlling human being.

Wow that's terrible.
I'm keeping the obvious joke in check right now.

You can't find a single person in town with a kind word to say about her. Her own daughters try to keep their distance. 

Well, you know--
What can you do when you marry white women
WOOOOO THANK YOU

My brother is afraid to leave her and instead seeks the company of other women. He's had many affairs during their marriage. All of the men he works with are aware of this and even encourage it because they see how awful his wife is.
As brothers, we were always close, but Marie has managed to sever our relationship. My brother is not a healthy man. He works extra hours in order to stay away from home. His latest girlfriend is a beautiful, kind, sweet woman. He adores her, but is afraid of what Marie might do. She has threatened to destroy his life if he ever leaves her. Her threats are real.
While we do not condone his cheating, the family has witnessed his painful marriage. What can we do? — Brother to Brother 

 Shovels are cheap.
Just sayin'.

I am madly in love with my ex-fiancee. We have been separated since March but have been talking about getting back together and starting a family.
The problem is, while we were separated, I slept with another woman. It happened at a weak point in my life, and I don't plan to do it again. Now the other woman says she is pregnant. I have asked for proof, but she hasn't provided any. We did use a condom, but it broke.
Should I tell my almost-fiancee or wait until I have physical proof?

THEN THERE'S THIS DUMB QUIFF.
 I GOTTA GET BACK IN GOOD WITH MY ONE HARPY WHITE WAHM BUT ANOTHER IS HOLDING ME EMOTIONALLY HOSTAGE WHAT DO I DO?
Here's what you do: kill yourself you dense motherfucker.
Have you considered she's your ex because of your shitty behavior?
Like I'm sure she just broke up with you for no reason.
"Should I renew my relationship on a lie?" is the question you're asking.
If you seriously need an answer to this then I'm dead fucking serious about my previous advice.

Dear Annie: I have been married for more than 20 years and have never been sexually attracted to my husband. He is a good provider, but there is no passion, no excitement, nothing. I have tried everything I can think of to make sex better, but he acts as if it's part of my wifely duties, which makes me sick.
I don't want to break up our home, but I'm in love with a passionate man who just rocks my world. He kisses me, and I forget my name. Our affair has lasted four years. Why can't I keep them both? — Torn in Tulsa

So let me see if I've assessed this situation correctly.
This dumb motherfucker has been married to you for 20 fucking years and is "a good provider" and because he views sex as part of your wifely duties (I'm envisioning a housewife here) it disgusts you so you promptly start fucking another dude.
White women, man.
What the fuck was he supposed to do?
I'm guessing there was no right answer for that jim-jom and he was just supposed to keep your spoiled ass while you were off fucking the pool boy.

Dear Torn: It seems you've been doing exactly that for four years, but obviously, it's not enough. Please stop living a dual life and figure out what you want. If there are young children, you owe it to them to work on your marriage. Get into joint counseling so your husband can work on his Neanderthal attitude toward women and so you can see whether passion can be ignited. If you believe sex is the most important aspect of a marriage, divorce your husband so you can be with Rocks Your World. But having it both ways isn't working, and you'll feel better when you deal with this more honestly.

Yes and he's the one with the problem.
He probably is wrong too but I hardly see cheating as excusable.
Don't make excuses for her shitty behavior, Annie. I thought you were an advice guru.
AM I THE LAST MAN ALIVE WHO KNOWS WHAT HONOR IS?

Dear Annie: I was sexually abused by an uncle when I was 12. I am now 35 and expect to see him at an upcoming family reunion. 

 Jesus Christ all mighty this got heavy quick.

After all these years, I finally wrote him a letter. He will never read it. When he dies, I want to place it in his casket. I hope you will let me share my thoughts:

Why wait until he's dead?
Not a lot of good the letter does at that point.

Dear Uncle: I have a few things that I've waited a long time to tell you. Now that you are dead, I am finally happy. I am happy you are burning in hell. God has given me justice. While others are mourning your death, I am celebrating. I will never forgive you for what you did. You stole my childhood from the moment you laid hands on me when I was a 12-year-old child.

Pffft please you can do better than this.
Surely after being molested you can muster up a better sense of vengeance than this.

Dear Annie: I've been a public librarian for 15 years.
Despite signs that clearly state, "No Cell Phones," patrons largely ignore them.

Welcome to the modern age, asshole.
You can fight that battle.
It won't work but you can.
It's really up to you to decide what you're going to do about it but at the end of the day you will accomplish nothing.
I'm not saying give up now is the easiest and best solution but giving up now is the easiest and best solution.
Anyway fuck it's time for bed I got school in the morning and it's the last day before Thanksgiving and it's 12th graders.
THE SONG OF THE NOW.
From best vidya soundtrack in the last 5 years.

This is the worst thing to ever happen to me

All right you people I'm taking maybe a risk by reviewing a blog from my own home turf of Blogspot. Considering how unreasonable Google has been lately this might be a bannable offense.

I welcome the challenge.
I don't want to say this is the ultimate example of shitty blogs but it's the ultimate example of shitty blogs.
This is going to get complicated because a lot of this is unfunny webcomics knocked out in Microsoft Paint so I'm going to be linking you guys a lot of stuff and you'll have to follow as best you can.
Here's the about page:

Hi.  I'm Allie.

If I had to explain myself in six words, those words would be "heroic, caring, alert and flammable."  That's only four words.  Oh well, I guess I should have thought of that before I started writing.  Too late now. 

This is the standard we're working with.
Oh but if that wasn't giving you cancer already there's a second about page:

I decided to make a second "About" page.

I don't really know what I was thinking.

WACKY!

Power is intoxicating. Everyone loves having the ability to make their decisions into reality — to think "this should be something that happens," and then actually be able to make that thing happen. 

It is also dangerous. 

And it is especially dangerous when applied to four-year-olds. 

Four-year-olds lack the experience to wield power responsibly. They have no idea what to do with it or how to control it.

What proceeds is a 30 panel comic and a 15 paragraph saga about being 5 and dressing as a dinosaur for Halloween.
This is supposed to be funny.
This blog is so popular the twat author landed on public access radio.
Not that that's any kind of feat (I could probably do it given enough inclination) but Jesus Christ.
I tried to read the entire comic and I am literally sterile from it.
Thank you, Blogspot.
Ok let's run a little experiment because I'm now two posts into this shit and already I have a big fucking problem with this fucking blog. I'm going to link you an entry. Don't click on it yet-- I'm going to comment on it. I won't skip anything major from the entry.
The goal is to see if the images add or even enhance meaning we couldn't already get from her shit writing.

I remember being endlessly entertained by the adventures of my toys. Some days they died repeated, violent deaths, other days they traveled to space or discussed my swim lessons and how I absolutely should be allowed in the deep end of the pool, especially since I was such a talented doggy-paddler.  

WHO
CARES
This post is entitled "Depression part 2" incidentally so bang up job leading in with something RELATED TO THE FUCKING TITLE.
Let's go back to my own post, paragon of brilliant writing it is: what was my title?
THIS IS THE WORST THING TO EVER HAPPEN TO ME.
Lead in?
I'M MAKING A BIG MISTAKE ALREADY AND THIS ENTRY HASN'T EVEN STARTED.
Title, lead in, whamo.
COME THE FUCK ON.

I didn't understand why it was fun for me, it just was. 

Take a guess how many pictures divided that last vapid paragraph with this meaningless sentence.
It was only two.
But still all I can see is red right now.

But as I grew older, it became harder and harder to access that expansive imaginary space that made my toys fun. I remember looking at them and feeling sort of frustrated and confused that things weren't the same. 

Yeah welcome to growing up. It sucks.

I played out all the same story lines that had been fun before, but the meaning had disappeared. Horse's Big Space Adventure transformed into holding a plastic horse in the air, hoping it would somehow be enjoyable for me. Prehistoric Crazy-Bus Death Ride was just smashing a toy bus full of dinosaurs into the wall while feeling sort of bored and unfulfilled.  I could no longer connect to my toys in a way that allowed me to participate in the experience.

This is where we part companies because if a video game company released "Prehistoric Crazy-Bus Death Ride" I'd be at the midnight release.
Maybe you did lose your sense of childlike wonder.
Midnight release and I'd buy the collector's edition.

Depression feels almost exactly like that, except about everything.

At first, though, the invulnerability that accompanied the detachment was exhilarating. At least as exhilarating as something can be without involving real emotions. 

There you go. Depression is a lot like being a twat, apparently.
That's all I've derived from this so far.

The beginning of my depression had been nothing but feelings, so the emotional deadening that followed was a welcome relief.  I had always wanted to not give a fuck about anything. I viewed feelings as a weakness — annoying obstacles on my quest for total power over myself. And I finally didn't have to feel them anymore.

Easy there, Spock.
Emotional mastery comes from feeling the emotions when you want to. Feeling nothing is kind of against the spirit of things.

But my experiences slowly flattened and blended together until it became obvious that there's a huge difference between not giving a fuck and not being able to give a fuck. Cognitively, you might know that different things are happening to you, but they don't feel very different.

Exactly. I consider depression a good motivator. As my psychology professor once said: sometimes there's a good reason you're depressed.
No matter how shit the situation is it's important to stick it out because then at the end of it you can say "holy shit I'm never letting that happen again" and you become a better person for it.
Which is why I am at once thankful and bitterly hate Harris Teeter.

Which leads to horrible, soul-decaying boredom.

I just watch Girl's Generation (or my new favorite, 9 Muses) videos when that happens.
I don't use the term "soul-decaying" because that's pretentious twattery. The word "very" has lost all meaning so we have to invent terms for how not that bored we really are.

I tried to get out more, but most fun activities just left me existentially confused or frustrated with my inability to enjoy them.

NOTHING MATTERS HAVE FUN PLAYING POKEMON NOW.

 Months oozed by, and I gradually came to accept that maybe enjoyment was not a thing I got to feel anymore. I didn't want anyone to know, though. I was still sort of uncomfortable about how bored and detached I felt around other people, and I was still holding out hope that the whole thing would spontaneously work itself out.

Isn't that an emotion, though?
I'm catching some holes in this story.
I'm sure people would (rightly) argue "discomfort" isn't an emotion so much as a state of being but it implies a certain range of emotions--
I feel words like "discomfort" and "doubt" and words like that should have a psychological term because there isn't an emotional state of being doubtful but it requires certain emotions to hold--
I call them emotional superstates in my own mind but I'm sure there's a less cool term for it.
Also man, I do my best thinking regarding people when I'm detached and one step removed.

As long as I could manage to not alienate anyone, everything might be okay!

Huh yeah good luck with that.

However, I could no longer rely on genuine emotion to generate facial expressions, and when you have to spend every social interaction consciously manipulating your face into shapes that are only approximately the right ones, alienating people is inevitable.

One thing I quickly learned about myself is I have a relative shallow level of empathy for my fellow man. I do not feel their pain at all like I feel my own.
I've learned to fake it, though.
I usually turn out better in regards to considering others due to an elaborate code of honor I follow but that genuinely has less to do with how they might feel and more about holding myself to my own exacting standards.
So what I'm saying is either I'm also majorly depressed or there's something off about both of us or this is just kind of what being a human is like.

It's weird for people who still have feelings to be around depressed people. They try to help you have feelings again so things can go back to normal, and it's frustrating for them when that doesn't happen. From their perspective, it seems like there has got to be some untapped source of happiness within you that you've simply lost track of, and if you could just see how beautiful things are... 

Do you feel bad that when people are this depressed and "creative" they try to make great things like paintings or epics and you've made a webcomic on Blogspot?
I'll cut you some slack, though. At least this isn't fucking Homestuck.
Jesus Christ Homestuck.
Go ahead and google that shit if you haven't seen it because man.
Jesus Christ I can't continue with this entry. Here it is.
Maybe this was a bad setup for this but do you see what I mean?
Do you see how fucking long this is and how the pictures add precisely nothing to the already incredibly long winded and boring talky bits?
Have you ever read a comic and you wonder why they writer didn't just write an essay instead of jamming pictures of people in with the rambling (Ctrl, Alt, Delete)?
At least they try to frame the paragraphs in drawings. This is just brazenly setting the bad art apart from the bad words in some sort of bland pap that defies my eyes' ability to focus long enough to form meaning out of it.
Who cares about your depression, honestly?
You have to make me want to care and all you're making me want to do is watch Girl's Generation videos.

Some people have a legitimate reason to feel depressed, but not me. I just woke up one day feeling sad and helpless for absolutely no reason.

Uh oh, here we go: Youtube open.

It's disappointing to feel sad for no reason. Sadness can be almost pleasantly indulgent when you have a way to justify it - you can listen to sad music and imagine yourself as the protagonist in a dramatic movie.

I think Warhammer teaches us there's never not a good reason to be a little sad with how things turned out but mostly you should be angry.
The two prime motivators in life, really.
Already don't care--

Touchstone (a division of Simon & Schuster) will tentatively release my book in Fall 2012, which sounds like it's a long time away, but really, it's only the gestation period of two slightly premature babies. And if you're a time-traveler, then it can be as soon as you want it to be. It can be now!

It is this easy to get published.
I blame my own exacting standards for quality as the only reason I haven't been published yet. It truly is that redundant.
Man already I'm struggling with this blog. Despite all the pretense this really is a typical white wahm whining.
Like imagine if I drew pictures for this fucking thing. Would you like it if the entry just had this every other sentence? Like here's me reading this fucking thing:

The bottom of the chair strategically positioned to look like my wiener.
Note to ladies: drawn to scale.
But even that doesn't work because while my drawing was at least passingly amusing and got to the point with no words at all this blog is a thousand unfunny pictures and words on top of paragraphs in between. Like holy fuck I think I'm going crazy dissecting how much of a bad idea this is.

I've been getting lots of emails with subject lines like "R U dead???" and "POST SOMETHING MOTHERF*CKER!"  and "Wheeeerrrrrree aaaaaarrrrrrrre yyyooooooouuuuu???"

You know you can say motherfucker on the internet.
I say it regularly.
Usually it's directed at someone.
Yesterday I was playing EVE Online and someone decided to act a fucking fool.
This motherfucker said he was smarter than me.
And maybe he is. I can't say.
It was his attitude.
I'M SITTING HERE DOING DIFFERENTIAL CALCULUS WHILE TALKING TO YOU.
I'm going to give you 30 seconds to apologize or this is about to get fucking ugly.
And he didn't.
Well let's see if all those smarts can keep his cash safe.
Now I'm being confronted by a graph that doesn't seem like it can be fully represented on 3 dimensions--
Jesus Christ can you believe this blog is still going on?
I certainly fucking can't. How can you have so little to say yet stretch it out for an eternity?

Legend has it that many bloggers don't post very much during the holidays.

Oh what's up I post more during the Holidays

I am the greatest.
I injured myself yesterday.  You might be wondering if this injury occurred while I was rescuing a child from a burning building, but no. It didn't. 

I saw pictures of you. I have never seen anyone in my entire life that inspires less confidence than I currently have in you.
In case you were wondering, well--
Here it is.

Remember when I wrote that post responding to that guy named Kyle who called me ugly and unfunny and it was exactly like when Tyra Banks got called fat and then protested by coming out on stage in a bathing suit and everybody said “wow, she’s so brave!” and she was lauded as a hero by self-esteem challenged women everywhere?

That was pretty sweet.

Anyway, I made a video. It's for Kyle.

I cut the link because the link now 404s so I guess the whole thing has been deleted.
I wonder what she'd say about this entry.
This is less "you're ugly and not funny" and more a protracted study in why your blog is so shit so maybe she'd appreciate it?
I'm helping you, lady. It's a service I'm providing for nothing.
Fuck.
The only songs I know of that can cancel how shit this blog is anything by Al Green.

Oh God I gotta read all this

Get ready for a lesson in boredom.
3 guesses what this fucking blog is about.

i'm not very good at understanding friendships. i am really good with boundaries primarily because i'm cautious as shit. it was really recently that i found some of my friends really liked getting physical, so i went from "i only touch and fuck my (now ex-)girlfriend" to "i cuddle some friends, i compliment and am affectionate to a lot of my friends, i have fucked some friends, i have made out with some friends" etc. etc. etc.

and it's very confusing.

Entitled "one moment while I say this" like anyone cares.
Ever been in a college class and there's that person that prefaces every answer with a personal story?
Welcome.
Welcome to that in blog form.

i can't tell what the hell love is. romantic love, specifically. i just kind of show mass affection for the people in my life as a whole, but focusing on a single person, making one person special, that's really difficult. and i suspect the answer may be just stopping the physical affection. making it so that i focus on a partner, you know?

This is about the time you start affixing labels like they're going out of style.
I'M A POLYAMOROUS SEX-POSITIVE CISGENDER--

i've recounted this story to friends enough to feel tired of talking about it, so i will just keep it brief.

i work at a book sale on campus; i've done this used book-selling job for the past two years. and this year, for the big big sale this past month, i worked bag check. and by chance i was assigned to partner with a new girl. and by chance this new girl and i got along really fucking well. she and i seemed to immediately form a total understanding. i have a number of neurotic tendencies when i meet new people; i micromanage the conversation, i overlook how i'm coming off, i try to control the image from the inside. and after the shift, when she wanted my number to keep in contact and to go out for coffee, she did the same thing, and it was refreshing to just say that it's totally fine. i'm the same way.

So I guess this is a guy but goddamn.
Like I still can't believe it.

and this continued into a lot of areas regarding thought patterns; i mean, we have a lot of differences in how we use technology, the books we like (to a degree), etc. etc. i got the impression at first that she was crushing, but apparently how she acted -- playfully, physically affectionate -- was just platonic. and i felt okay with this, after we clarified everything. but a part of me is like, well, shit, sophia, are you crushing on a straight girl?

Oh.
I'm glad, actually.
Good. It's a woman. At least we know sometimes up is up and down is down.
CRUSHING ON A STRAIGHT GIRL!?
Are you sure you're in college?
You just used "crushing" as a verb and you didn't mean to press.
This is like middle school psychology.

i don't know what crushing is anymore.

the fact that i even read what she did as something beyond friendship is just some token of my understanding of male-female relationships; i have had little experience talking to other women, as in, from scratch, who read me as cis.

WOOO LABELS.

it's so easy to wax poetic, to speak like i'm ginsberg, without buddhist transcendentalism or the pedophilia apologism. 

You know it really is easy to wax poetic about pedophilia apologists.
I'm speaking from experience.
As a poet and a pedophile and a pedophile apologist.
Wait--

okay, so, i am beginning to detest the transgender label. but i feel somewhat ashamed of that, because, well, i am transgender. it feels way more right to wave my freak flag, to represent who i am, on a technical level, in reality. it only came to mind a half hour ago, though — i was writing up some kind of biography for this site, and was about to write "trans girl," or "trans lady," or "trans woman," but all of them conveyed a not-me image. it felt like it was giving the reader the wrong idea, the imagination of myself as some tall, skinny, flat-chested person looking for pity? and i mean, that's just my own image, that's just my internalised transphobia, my self-hate. 

So the biological gender iiiiiiiiiiis...
I don't know.
This might be the first time (maybe, don't quote me on that) that the biological gender has been explicitly stated but it's too confusing to read correctly.

but that doesn't mean ditching a label entirely, does it? like — it's not like i am just distanced from the reality of eighteen years of manhood and testosterone, etc. it's that i feel weird about how seeing the words, and not seeing me, can influence people into believing i am less attractive than i am. bam! vanity.

so really, the issue is that inside, i believe i am hotter than the trans label would imply. wow i'm awful.

So biological man who claims to be a straight woman (so that means--)
and--
UHHHHH--

but i can spill some secrets.

i had a girlfriend once; I was seventeen and she was eighteen and we were classmates in a high school film class. the class focused on symbolism and framing and characters, like an applied English class; she focused on me one day and started talking and i focused on her and we fell in love like a recovering agoraphobe. we took a few steps and slowly learned to breathe. 

And like a man with his one week chip from anger management I am quivering with repressed fury.
I was informed by my biggest reader that Monday's entry was phoning it in and I can't disagree so I'm trying to bring it today.
Can you believe that was a fucking serious attempt at an analogy?
Our romance is like a recovering agoraphobe because it's one step at a time and breathing slowly HUE HUE HUE HUE
I mean fuck off, Jesus.

who was i? hard question, i must have been some smug douche: the high school had uniforms, it was catholic, i wore a sweatshirt every day. i had a pea coat and a flat cap and thick black glasses, i had bushy black hair and no facial hair. i was male, but ashamedly so, and i thought i knew everything (i was mistaken; now i know everything).

Oh good.
Glad to see lessons were learned about being a smug douche.

and her? she had hair down to her ass and she was two inches taller than me. we were scared of intimacy but looking for partners. she liked Monty Python so I bought the complete collection to fake interest. we went to libraries and watched movies together and slowly grew closer together; her mother's couch cushions felt like opposite shores at first but easily turned into street block demarcations and then individual sidewalk pieces. it was easier to meet; and we were stuck.
but so much happened. university, and I had to gender transition, and her mental illnesses were coming to a head. we needed each other but it was destroying our self-care.
she dumped me last month and we fucked in her back seat a week later

This is a great story.

and we're meeting again tomorrow, after a week of her telling me to never talk to her again
christ, anonymous, I love her but I don't know where my head is. I envision us as this super cool duo of hot ladies, sipping coffees and reading cool books and dismantling the patriarchy okay I realise that phrase has become diluted and cheapened by casual use. 

Jesus Christ can you believe that was a sentence someone typed?
Like in all your years
of living on this earth
as a person
did you ever think you'd read something that pretentious?

but in this fantasy are we lovers or friends? or lovers and friends. or lovers but friends.
I don't know where the lines are or what they mean, I just want to keep her safe from harm and fuck her brains out. I just want to laugh with her and make out on the couch.
I want us to be the beautiful art that creates other beautiful artworks
one big tribute to some creator; but let's face it, I made myself — body and identity — myself. 

I WANT TO BE BEAUTIFUL ART
come on, me. If this wacko can get a girlfriend surely I can manage somehow.

and what am i doing here, you ask. you are me, but you are also a potential reader, god save your soul. i am yet another pseudo-intellectual twentysomething transgender woman on livejournal; i am the antidote. 

Antidote?
To fucking what?
You know any antidote taken in excess becomes poison.
I kind of feel like that's where we are now with this kinda blog.
There's so much of it surely the wound has become septic and it's time to just cut blogging from the internet entirely.

i am implausibly awake at 3 in the morning and i possess a 6am wake time. i am a masochist, a beautiful disaster, and i have feelings to share; we all have spare blood to shed and the internet has so many containers for it. the internet is not a series of tubes it is senseless bloodshed and the emotions of a billion people coalesced. 

We all have spare blood to shed.
I have no blood.
Instead of blood I have boiling acid and piss.

i have to stop talking to boys entirely, apparently.

is there some kind of sign on my back that says “sophia’s single, boys! have at her!” ? why the hell is it that whenever i just have a conversation with a guy they think i’m picking them up?

i was at the u of t computer shop and got to talking to the clerk about old tech and how i’m nostalgic for 1999 cd burners and then we talked about gattaca and other sci-fi movies and he called a 90s movie “old” and i said that’s not very old, i’m a film major and we look at way older stuff all the time. 

Older than the 90s?
Impossible.
Also who wants to bet none of this fucking happened?

and he talked about how at sheridan he used to make movies and then gave me his contact information to “talk movies sometime, i know a lot about movies, trust me, ok see you film major girl”

and then i went to the robarts media commons like right after and watched ‘mean streets’ to try and catch up in some capacity, and the guy beside me started talking about how he couldn’t understand his film much, so i try and talk it out and help him like critically engage with film and then when i was done my film and i left he came out and we kept talking and then when i said i had to go home he said “can i take you out to dinner” and my mind went, what

Don't end sentences on italics, thanks.
Blogger has difficulty taking no for an answer once they're on.
Also: none of this shit happened. I was making a joke before but now I am 100% convinced.

and i didn’t know how to shake him, i didn’t want to break his heart. i let him have my number and told him my name and he said he liked my last name and i said i don’t really like it, it’s so italian, and he asked if i was italian and i said i’m half italian and half french and he said “oh that’s why you’re so beautiful” and i’m like no stop hitting on me please i am not in a headspace to date right now and he said no pressure, take it easy, he kept touching me and saying take it easy, and said i’m so interesting, i’m so fascinating, he really wants to take me out sometime, it’ll be great.

and now he’s texting me and i just don’t know what to do, a boy has never asked me out before
Oh I know a good way to shake them:

I HAVE A BIG SWINGING DICK WITH 8 INCHES OF FORESKIN.
Also you might not have noticed due to the sneaky way I don't copy entire entries (ain't no one got time for that) but the second-to-last entry was actually the intro entry.
Because, you know, talking about getting hit on by boys (!) is far more important than a proper introduction.
Further proof this shit didn't happen.
Also har har not to cut an entry short or anything but that is the end of this blog.
I have read all there is.
I wrote a paragraph about banning transsexuals from this blog but then I realized I'd have nothing to review so I deleted it.
Never mind, never mind.
Also I tried to find something as pretentious and fucking gay as this blog and I think I did it.
Yeah that's Kajagoogoo.
But wait, you might be saying. Kajagoogoo isn't obscure. They had their one hit called Too Shy.
Yeah that's true, I'd say, but this is their OTHER HIT.
Oh yeah, Kajagoogoo. The one hit wonder with two hits.
Also I realized in my desire to phone it in as hard as I could I forgot yesterday's song of the day.
Well. If Kajagoogoo got you rock hard it's not too late to start bringing yourself to climax.
Like I realized yesterday you're not getting the full experience of what it's like to listen to music with me.
Kajagoogoo, Girl's Generation and Geto Boys will often play back to back to back or combinations that improbable.
Ohhh goodness.
Anyway fuck blogs.

The Gaze

Oh boy here it is--

This is a fully-public journal starring a 41-year-old American expat in Ireland. I'm polyamorous and a pagan atheist- a naturalist really.

Pagan atheist, what?
I know agnosticism runs rampant in Pagan circles but wouldn't a Pagan atheist just be someone who has read the Odyssey?
Also what the fuck is polyamorous?
Like I know what the word, broken down, means but what is it actually?

I have Asperger's syndrome (among other more-or-less invisible disabilities), a son with Asperger's and a daughter with autism. I'm currently fighting- and winning- a long (nearly lifelong) battle with severe refractory depression. 

Them hits keep rolling.
I just looked up polyamory and apparently it's someone who has multiple partners in an open relationship kinda thing--
Yeah, I believe it.
You have a harem.
Got it.
Loser.

BTW, if anyone wants to add me on Origin, my ID is lilirose72. I log in as invisible but I have Origin (and Steam, where I am lilirose_ie) running as long as my computer is on.

That's like the most feminine username ever.
What it is with you?

Okay, I am catching up on my reading list after all, because Origin didn't save my game installers to my data drive, even though I told it to, and so I am having to download Sims 3 

>Sims 3
>father of 2 children
>father
WHAT IS HAPPENING WITH THIS BLOG?

I'm here on the old clunky laptop, for tonight, watching six million Windows updates because I haven't turned this machine on for months. 

Who the fuck updates windows?
What planet is this?
Is this the real life?

I don't think I will set it up tomorrow because I plan to do a million things to work out precisely what's wrong with my PC.

After reading the entry it sounds like a RAM issue.
What kind of FAGGOT has a computer issue today?
Especially monitors breaking.
Ha ha am I right?
AM I RIGHT OR WHAT?
;_;

What is your first memory?

I have no idea how old I was, but I wasn't two yet. 

No one has memories from then fuck off.

I guess a lot people have joked about "manflu", which is when a man is slightly ill and lays in bed moaning about how they feel like they're dying, etc.

Well, I'm not a man, but I get manflu.

Ohhh not actually a father.
Ha, ha you sure fooled me with this entry.
I read "manflu" and I said "holy shit this is a dude."
Should have kept reading--
And paid attention to all the signs that pretty much pointed to it being a woman--
but in my defense how many times has that not been a clear indicator?
More often than not.
It's gotten to the point where the most logical thing to do is assume the opposite of whatever the clearest choice is.

What's your favourite quote?

Eeek, this one is so hard- there are so many I love. But I guess the one I keep coming back to is the Litany Against Fear from the Bene Gesset in the Dune series:

"I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain."

You're not allowed to have a cool favorite quote.
After all that other shit I have deemed it.

I have a feeling I'm about to get into an oddly polite battle with S.'s teacher over reading material.

S., who once had a very severe language delay (which is now mild instead of "severe") has had some problems with reading comprehension. Especially when she's made to read things that she doesn't find interesting. She just tunes out, as any smart kid would do, and then can't answer questions about what she was forced to read, because her language skills aren't quite good enough to let her pretend that she was paying attention.

Welcome to life I guess.
Fuck blogging.

I got your Kant right here

Let's get ready for pretention!

To my Republican friends (and you know who you are):

It begiiiiiiins

My sincerest sympathies to you on the death by suicide of your Party.

I'm not being snarky or nasty, I really mean it. The Republican Party has a grand tradition that goes back to Abraham Lincoln and Teddy Roosevelt and Robert Taft and Everett Dirksen. I honor and respect that tradition.

The truth is, though, that the Republican Party has been sick for years -- at least since the Nixon Administration. It probably became terminal sometime in the mid to late '80s, though it wasn't clear until the '90s that the Party was cancerous, devouring sustenance to all else in favor of its own growth.

If someone started an apology with "I'm not being snarky or nasty" I'd have his teeth for a necklace.

Some of you probably refuse to believe that your Party is committing suicide. That's understandable. Denial is one of the important stages you have to go through in the grieving process. But you should get through it as quickly as possible.

Others are in the bargaining phase, thinking that if only Obama would make a deal this wouldn't have to happen. But the truth is that it's way too late for any deal of that sort to do the Republican Party any good.

This isn't suicide for either party but assuming it was the death of the Republican party then why wouldn't it be the death of the Democratic party?
Granted this government shutdown wasn't technically their fault most people seem genuinely put off by the government period anymore.

If you like urban fantasy at all, you gotta read this one. 

Nope.

DC Comics: Your chance to break into the big time... ...is to draw a naked woman committing suicide. There are times I'm really glad I don't buy comics anymore, and this is one of them. How can they -- I mean seriously -- not see how disgusting this is? Betcha this would never have happened under Jeanette Kahn.

Oh, wait. She ran the "Kill Robin" 900 numbers, didn't she?

Oy.

What's disgusting about that?
The suicide or the nudity?
The combo?
I guess the implication is it's somehow sexist but people kill themselves all the time.

Some years ago I tried to read Kant's Critique of Pure Reason: I was unable to do so. I might be able to do so having read this book -- which is in itself quite difficult, but which spells out in plain(er) language many of the ideas (as opposed to Ideas, of course) which Kant was striving for in the CPR. 

OF COURSE.
What has happened in your life that you decide to read Kant then post on your Dreamwidth about it?
What occurs that allows those two events in succession to be a good idea?

bobdole is 90 today, and Kay Bailey Hutchison is 70. Celebrate accordingly.

... By doing nothing outside of what you normally do.
Anyway fuck blogs.

Thanks?

I found this blog almost instantly.
While that saved me from having to read a lot of bullshit first entries I still found this fucking blog.

I don't know what prompted them, but I'm already tired of these Putin jokes.

I don't pay attention to politics. Partly cause it makes me angry that the world doesn't share my views (or really many people at all) and partly because there's no one in office representing my people that I know of.

What people would those be?
Douchebags?

Things I find silly about Twitter:

--People using twitter just to link some other site they use like The Book of Faces. You know, like the tweet is cut off and there's a link to Instagram, this or that.

--Tweets are very short, but some people's tweets are half (or more) hashtags.

--People that follow hundreds and admit they can't read much of what people post, but don't cut down.

--Constant vague tweets that have no meaning unless explained such as running commentary on a movie, yet there wasn't even a mentioning of watching one.

--Political satire tweets. :P

Cool list bro.
Incidentally I'm working off the assumption this is a man because his avatar is the Baldur's Gate logo.
There is no way a girl, not even an annoying grrrrrrl gamer (xP) would know that game.

I've lived with my mental illness so long that reading symptoms of it is kinda surprising because they're just normal for me.

Does that even make sense?

I was going to say something about this until I noticed I'm almost 20 entries into this mess and I'm only on September 11 of this year.
What the fuck is happening?
Who updates that much?
And what the fuck are you doing posting that you don't get Twitter?
You're treating your fucking blog like Twitter.

Pizza Hut tweeted that it's National Cheese Pizza Day! But TOMORROW is Chumcha Friday! What do I do?! D:

I seem to recall some other blog that did the retarded renaming of the days to nonsense--

Good Morning and Happy Thirstday!

OH GODDAMN IT IT'S THE SAME BLOG.
Fucking goddamn it.
I started this entry too late to start a new one--
nah fuck it phoning it in.
Enjoy your three paragraph update.

Anything except roleplaying

Finding a blog not about roleplaying was really difficult today.
One thing I've noticed about roleplayers: apparently really taught, overly dramatic writing = good.
News to me.
I don't really know what this blog is about. I picked it more or less based on the strength of the name. Pantryslut.
I've probably reviewed this one too or some shit.

Met with the kindergarten teacher and school director about how to support Simone in her gender identity. Forgot to say probably the most important thing: "don't reduce Simone to solely her variant gender identity. It's only one aspect of this kid here before you." 

I see I've chosen well.

The other day on the playground, Simone was bitten by a goose. She had bread in her hand, and the bite didn't leave a mark, so it was pretty clearly a case of trying to get at the food rather than aggressively attacking her. Still, she was understandably freaked out. I told her, to help explain the situation and calm her down a little, that the goose had made a mistake and that if it could talk it would apologize.

When I told this story to G. later in the evening, he laughed. "You lied!" he said. "That goose would have said, 'gimme the bread.'"

HUE HUE HUE HUE US BLOGGERS AM I RIGHT?
 Also get ready for my HUE HUE HUE pictures because they're coming and I have a lot of them.
HUE HUE HUE HUE HUE HUE HUE HUE.
Fucking blogs.

Later that same day on the playground, Simone was explaining her gender identity to some new acquaintances in response to their inquiries. "I'm a girl and a boy," she said. "I'm both." There was some ensuing discussion amongst said new acquaintances regarding indicators such as hair length, clothing, voice, etc., trying to correct the situation into a tidy binary once more. At which point she spread her hands and said, "I am who I am."

I melt, Dear Readers. I melt.

Teachin' that kid how to never be a functioning member of society.

Book I should write: "How To Throw Large Sex Parties For Fun and Sometimes Profit."

Speaking of things that go along well with your kids: sex parties.

Seriously what the fuck?

Perhaps in compensation for yesterday's choice of clothing, Simone chose to wear pants, a baseball cap and an eyepatch (hee!) today to our monthly outing at Youth Uprising. She also told me to call her my son and April's brother. Of course I complied. I wonder, idly, if she found playground interactions yesterday harder -- or just uncomfortably different -- than when in her usual outfits. No way to tell, really, so I will continue to follow her lead wherever it goes.

GENDERS.

2. April told her first true joke:

"Knock knock."

"Who's there?"

"Dwayne."

"Dwayne who?"

"Dwayne the bathtub!"

Holy shit kid

that sucked

my jokes blow the lid off that fucking garbage.

Simone: "Knock knock."

Me: "Who's there?"

Simone: "Look."

Me: "Look who?"

Simone: "Look out below!"

Me: "Ok. What's above?"

Simone: "A duck falling."

Me: "I see."

Simone: "It jumped from the ceiling."

Me: "That makes sense."

Simone: "The joke is just 'look out below,' though."

How about your fluid gender fluids over into a person that can tell a fucking joke with a punchline? 

""I'll be 40 next year, with a PhD -- I will not be an intern," my friend recently vented, with perhaps a few expletives."

Ahem.

Ashley Nelson, "Confessions of a Stay-at-Home Mom"

Should have thought of that before I guess.

I am circling around the issue of women, death, and agency. Over and over again. I am clearly obsessed. In an artistic way, I mean. Those of you close to me know what I'm talking about. I mean, it's become pretty obvious in my writing over the past few years.

Recently I have decided to stop tiptoeing around this fact and stare my little obsession in the eye. I am thinking of it as a small, fluffy dog. With a rather chipper bark. I am going to put it in my bag and carry it with me for a while.

I have also decided to talk about it in public. A little. I hate talking about my actual work, what I am working on, in public, so this is a big step. (We can talk about stuff I've completed all you want. I may not have anything particularly enlightening to say, though.) But this isn't talking about what I'm working on, this is talking about the background stuff that informs what I'm working on.

So! In that vein, let's take a brief look at women writers and suicide. Surely we must start with Vice Magazine.

Vice is the best.

If you haven't seen their show in HBO you really should because it's unbelievable. 

Simone: "Mom, can I have a bookmark?"

Me: "Yes. What for?"

Simone: "It's for this book of mine." [She displays a blank book that she has been diligently 'writing' in.] "It's a poem book. It's called 'Poems of Love.'"

If I have a daughter she's going to be so much fucking cooler holy shit

Post whining about something on the playground--

Quick, name for me some of your favorite Dead Wives of Media and Literature. Or simply the examples that leap to mind first.

Uhhhhhhhh

Knee-deep in Moby Dick. Still loving it.

KNEE DEEP IN DICK :DDDDDDDDD

Thank you, I guess, to Star Wars for initiating a conversation with my children about why so many stories have lots of boys but not lots of girls, how that doesn't match with our experience of reality, other ways in which stories like that don't match with our reality, and how to change the stories and tell new stories so that they do. 

Because Princess Leia is a dumb bitch who couldn't avoid getting caught in one ship in OUTER FUCKING SPACE so she's totally irrelevant throughout most of the movie until someone with a brain (AKA Chewbacca)  can rescue her dumbass.

You're welcome for my cutting summary of Star Wars.

We are the custodians of a box of silkworms for the weekend.

or the box of fire, as it would be if I were in charge of it.

Once upon a time I was an English major at a state university, and that state university required students to take a survey Intro to Fiction/Drama/Poetry sequence. Graduate students taught these courses, of course. For Intro to Poetry, I got some prig who'd gone to Adrian or Albion or one of those hyper-religious colleges for his undergraduate work. He kept the Christian thing to a dull roar -- but he was unable to do so for the homophobia. Or the distaste for free verse. I had this class first thing in the morning three times a week. I had a stronger constitution then.

His homophobia and distaste for free verse combined into, unsurprisingly, a virulent dislike of Whitman. So virulent, in fact, that he cut him out of the curriculum entirely. Honest.

We might not be brothers in faith but we are brothers in writing.

Fuck Whitman.

He made some sort of statement about how American poetry of the 19th century had two major figures but he despised one of them so he wasn't going to assign any of it for reading.

Instead, he assigned us double doses of the other one: Emily Dickinson.

I'm going to have to presume a heaping helping of denial (plus the always-lovely attitude that girl-homos don't count) assisted him in this particular mental gymnastic routine.

Fuck the 19th century frankly but I guess you picked the lesser of two evils.

Apparently today was "fantasy dress-up day" at preschool, with much princess and knight accoutrements.

One of Simone's friends picked out a knight outfit for her and brought it over, saying "Simone, I know that sometimes you like to be the brother so I saved this for you."

Simone is said to have replied, "thanks, but today I want to be a princess!" and immediately donned three tutus over her pants.

(gold star for the friend!)

>not wanting to be the black knight to troll every 5 year old ever

faggots.

I'm a Roman Legatus fuck all this gay knight shit I'm the top pro here.

The thing is, this slippage, while v. disappointing in a theoretical text, is rather easy and unsurprising.

Hey, whoa.

"Slippage" is a bad word in my household.

LOSING THEM FUNDS TO BULLSHIT CLICKING.

That cuts deep, man.

And I think that one of the unintended results is the slippage she's decrying. "Pro-sex feminism," for lack of a better term, gets watered down as it makes allies with porn producers and non-feminist sex activists. Much in the same way, btw, that antiporn feminism became co-opted by a larger social conservatism.

I wish I had some big bow to wrap up these observations in, but I don't. This is sketchy and strongly subject to revision. But I do feel as if I am watching both "pro-sex feminism"** and antiporn feminism disappear through continuous multiple dilutions. They both continue to fade away as we watch.

Ok I'll admit I'm starting this entry halfway through because it's really boring and I don't care but what the fuck does that shit even mean?

Fucking goddamn it.

Man I just reread this entry and talk about a verbose blogger. You want to edit this shit down?

I know your kids are endlessly interesting to you but meanwhile I'm fucking dying over here.

I've had more interesting discussions about what video game girls are wearing than reading this shit.

That's pretty fucking dire, m8.

Speaking of: holy shit, CCP, learn what sexy glasses look like.

This:

 

 

is unacceptable. Do you guys want me to fly over there and tell you how attractive women dress? I will do it. If you compensate me I will sit down and carefully explain to your dumb Icelandic asses why no guy wants to see his waifu in pedo glasses.

Let's start with billy basic mode here:

regular t-shirts are clearly still in fashion in the grim darkness of the year 28,000 or whatever it is in EVE world but blue jeans no longer exist.

Sneakers still exist

t-shirts still exist

all pants are leather.

What?

Also I get it's the future and everyone is wacky and cyberpunk but goddamn can I get a few hairstyles that aren't the worst thing to ever happen to me in a video game?

You have no idea how much pressure that puts on a guy. I have to make her face the most beautiful in the history of existence (which isn't easy given the face molder you have) to make up for the fact that 99% of the hairstyles look like the 90s interpreting how the 80s might think the future will look.

You can't just dangle this shit in front of your players.

"Here you can make an Asian woman who can fly a ship by directly interfacing with it (AKA every nerd's fantasy) but this is going to be like a three hour study in facial anatomy."

THANKS CCP.

I've succeeded well beyond what most people have achieved, too.

You don't even want to know what the typical EVE girl looks like.

Harley Quinn makeup disaster.

Or man.

Apparently no one at CCP games is aware what a human jaw looks like or how it is shaped.

Also you can move the eyelids in any number of improbable configurations but change the angle of the eye?
That's just stupid.

People are going to be really bottom sore, too, when you can finally amble around the station.

Or shit, if you can do archaeology out of the pod?
CCP will be mad they didn't listen to me then.

I WARNED YOU BRO

I TOLD YOU ABOUT THE WAIFUS

anyway what the fuck was I even talking about?

Some bullshit blog no one cares about?

What else is new?
Also something I forgot to mention from the last update:

upon googling the phrase that reminded me that I had already reviewed the blog (only way I can find my own back entries because my tags are hopelessly useless) my blog showed up as the first entry. That means it showed up before her.

Me quoting her blog was deemed more relevant than the original quote by Google's standards.

I mean I'm sure I get more hits (not that I get many hits but whatever) but you know still kind of funny.

Anyway fuck the internet.