#i also love the mental image of this tank man walking his tank dog around its so precious.

[xysidhequeen]

I wonder about Jason’s reaction with the good ghost dog, Cujo?

I love these questions so much, they make me think and flesh out this AU.

So. Jason met Cujo in probably one of the least ideal ways humanly(ghostly?) possible.

Cujo had wandered into the castle, as he does because he is a free spirit. He had followed the exciting new scent and found Jason's room. He then proceeded to chew on and eat all of Jason's shoes.

You'd think this would be while he was in puppy form. Nope. He was in his huge Hulk-Rottweiler-Hellhound form. So. He's just there, happily munching on Jason's shoes, remains of other pairs scattered about him like rubbery, leather confetti when Jason walks in. Sees this absolute UNIT of a monster dog wagging his tail and scarfing down the Doc Martens Sam has bought him last week.

Jason was sorta settled into the GZ at this point and just sighed, turned around and yelled out. "Danny your damn mutt is eating all my shoes!"

And Danny, who knew Jason hadn't met Cujo yet was like "How'd you know he's my dog?! You can't blame everything on me!"

And Jason stares him dead in the eyes, steps to the side so Cujo can see Danny and Danny just gets absolutely bodied by the goodest boy.

"You get to tell Sam your dog ate my shoes, fucker."

Jason wasn't that upset. He's not overly attached to things like clothes. They tend to get damaged often during spars and fights and workshop accidents anyways. Sam was far more upset. ("Those were limited edition Danny!")

Jason does love Cujo. He's very much a dog person. He doesn't really like cats. He swears they're all actually demons(and he's met demons. He uses this as proof). But cats adore Jason so much. He's a portable heater, so they climb all over him if given a chance. But he prefers dogs, and so he adores Cujo. Sometimes, he'll even take Cujo for walkies to the Underworld to play with his best friend Cerberus, and Jason will trade baking recipes with Persephone. Cujo likes Jason too, as he'll play fight with him, and he's harder to accidentally yeet like Danny.

Danny gets really flustered and tongue tied anytime he sees Jason and Cujo playing. A picture of Jason asleep on a couch with puppy Cujo laying on his chest is his current lockscreen.

[praisehoes-and-runovervirgins]

I had another intense daydream about DILF Bakugou. It will be a continuation from my first one. 

Again, I am not a strong/good writer so please don’t come at me for mistakes. I also didn’t think I was going to get attached to the kids but haha I did. The oldest one’s name is Liam and the younger one’s name is Noah. 

Warning: Cursing and mutual pining.

----

The elevator door opens at his penthouse apartment, it was 8:30am and you were already there. Seems kinda eager Y/N. You stir in the elevator trying to calm yourself down pressing your hand to your chest taking a deep breath as the elevator door opens. You almost forgot how to breathe when you saw Bakugou standing there in front of the elevator holding two cups of coffee. “Good morning, you’re early” he says. She’s on time, I like that. Drinking you in before handing you a badly painted ceramic mug full of coffee and turning to walk to the kitchen. You quickly walk behind him. “I don’t know how you take your coffee. I have creamer if you want” he says as he pulls it out of the fridge and places it in front of you. “Just a little sugar” you say pushing past his hands grabbing the covered sugar that was on the counter. He grabs it before you can and places it in front of you but not before you hands touch for a moment. You jolt your hand back and smile warmly as you put a spoonful into your coffee and take a sip. That was cute. It’s silent as you two take turns staring at each other while the other looks around the house or out the window. Bakugou was wearing a black tank top that beautifully showcased the muscles that were scattered with scars as a result of years of hero work. He was wearing black pajama pants that hung low enough for you to almost see his happy trail. God, he looks so good. Stay calm. After you both finish your coffee he stands up and leads you up the staircase. The apartment looks bigger than last night, the light beaming in showcasing it’s grandness. Bakugou tells you about the boys, one is 11 and the other is 3 ½. He goes on to talk about them like if they’re the best thing to ever happen to him. Who would’ve thought he had a soft side. He looks so happy when he talks about them. I can’t fuck this up. 

You walk behind him as he enters the boy’s bedroom but stop in your tracks before entering looking at the sign that says, “NO GIRLS ALLOWED” in big bold badly written handwriting. “Hi” says the older one staring at you, arms crossed and tense. No one can deny that he’s Bakugou’s child. “Hi, my name is Y/N” you said with a warm smile. The little one ran to you hugging both your legs together almost making you fall over. “I like your name. You’re pretty. Why are you here?” he said all in one breath looking up at you. “She’s here to hang out with us today,” he said, mirroring the older one. “Do we really need a babysitter?” said the older one under his breath but still loud enough for you to hear him. Bakugou looked at him and said, “Yes, you can do your own thing but Y/N’s here to mostly help your brother” he grunted annoyed at the older one’s questioning. Wow you can cut the tension with a knife. The little one hangs on your legs and you bend down to hold him in your arms. “You smell good. She’s mine now” wrapping his arms around your neck and red eyes staring daggers at his dad and brother. Yeah, he’s bakugou’s kid for sure too. “You can keep her” the older one says under his breath rolling his eyes pushing past you leaving the room. The rest of the morning went well, you spent most of the time with the little one. You guys had breakfast together. Bakugou made pancakes and eggs while the little one showed you his massive Almighty collection. The bigger one walking by from time to time just to see what you both were doing.

 After breakfast it was bathtime. You were giving the younger one a bath when Bakugou walked by. He looked in and he wouldn’t help but smile at the view of you kneeled down in front of the tub blowing bath bubbles, praising the little one for being so good at it. I think I did the right thing. Look at how happy he is. He deserves to have a content woman in his life. They’re perfect together. Don’t fuck this up man. He leans against the door frame. The little one notices and looks past Y/N at his dad. “What are we doing today daddy?” he says with a hopeful smile it’ll be something fun. “Yeah, what are we doing today daddy?”. You pause covering your mouth immediately after saying it. FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK. “U-Um I was thinking about the park, movie at home then dinner. How does that sound?” he said staring at the back of your head then at the little one. “YESSSSSSSSS” the little one jumped up out of the bathtub slashing your shirt as a result. You all laugh. You turn to grab the towel hanging on the sink and your eyes meet. His eyes are so intense. He probably wants to fire me. God, why would I say that. Little did you know Bakugou melted at the sound of you calling him that. Something about was so natural like it just melted off your tongue. The morning went normal as well. There were moments where you could feel Bakugou’s eyes on you. You peek at him for a second just for your eyes to meet and him to look away at the last second. When you arrive at the park you clench at your purse full of park necessaries. The two boys run away as soon as they see the playground. You sat yourself down beside Bakugou, not moving your eyes from the little one. Some time passes before you finally say, “I-I’m sorry about earlier, I didn’t mean to call you that. I-I was just repeating what he said” you explained not making eye contact. Bakugou’s heart broke a little. He didn’t mind it all. He was actually thinking about it the whole time. Imaging you calling him that over and over. “I didn’t mind,” he says, staring at you and letting out a little giggle. “I thought I made things awkward” letting out a sigh of relief moving her eyes to meet his. His eyes can really turn a hole into anyone huh. Her whole body relaxed as she put the purse on the side of the bench. “You didn't,” he said, looking out at the little one as he waved from the highest part of the playground. She sat there as they began to make small talk. “Y/N, come here. Come play with me!” the little one yelled at the top of lungs. “Coming!” you call out jumping to your feet, your breast giggling as you stand up. Bakugou noticed. Bakugou is left there watching you and the little one giggling and hugging each other. I can get used to this. 

The little one was playing in the sandbox while you were standing on the outside watching him and praising him for doing a good job. “Hey, I’ve never seen you here before” A voice says behind you, making you jump. “No, I’ve never been to this park” you say looking up at the man. He was pretty handsome, tall and wearing a bookbag probably full of park supplies. “Is that your kid? He’s cute” he says, waving at the little one. “No, I’m just the babysitter” you say, turning back around to face the boy. You turn your head to look at Bakugou and he’s already on his way over to you. “Hey man, can I help you?” He steps between you and the man. Bakugou towering over the poor man. “Oh shit, dynamight. I’m a huge fan” he says reaching out to grab his hand but Bakugou just stares at him. You are intensely staring at the two men until the little one grabs you and pulls you away from them and towards the swings. “Man, your babysitter is hot, but I’m guessing you already knew that. We’ve all been checking her out” the man said, staring at you and pointing at the group of men all staring at you as you push the little on the swing. “What?” he said looking around at all the men staring at you like a piece of meat. OH FUCK NO. He didn’t even notice how good you looked in that outfit. WHY WERE THERE SO MANY MEN HERE WTF. You bent over to tie the little one’s shoes putting your whole ass on display. He would almost hear the men gasp and whisper disgusting things about you to each other. Little explosion started in his hands. Calm down. The man walked away at that point seeing how angry he looked. He walked over to you and grabbed you by the wrist, “Lets go” he said almost growling. “Yeah, is everything okay?” you say confused. “Fucking extras..” he said looking around letting go of your wrist. You grab the little one and call out to the bigger that they’re leaving. The whole car ride was awkward. He kept looking at you from time to time and scuffing. What’s up with the mental gymnastics?. What happened? Did the guy say something about you? You barely talked to him. The next few weeks were filled with laughs, cuddles and love while you were in the Bakugou home from the little one and occasional engagement from the older one. Bakugou wanted to make you feel more at home so he would buy flowers and candles and put them around the apartment. It was a nice thought. 

One day you can hear him stirring and cursing under his breath in his office when you walk by. “Are you coming to watch the movie with us daddy” said the little one as he came into the office. “Nah. You guys can watch it. I’ll sit this one out” he said turning around in his computer chair to look at him. “No, I really want you to. We have to watch it like a family.” he looks up at him and attempts to do the world’s best puppy dog face. “I don’t think so” he twirls in his computer chair back to the computer. “I think It'll make Y/N pretty happy.” he says squinting at him. “Right Y/N?” Manipulative little brat “It would make me very happy” you straighten your back as you hear your name. “Okay” he says standing up from his chair walking behind you as you go to put on a movie while sitting on the couch. The little one was firmly placed on your lap while the older one was on the other side of the coach on their phone. Bakugou sat next to you placing his arm above the coach behind you. 30 minutes into the movie both Bakugou and the little one were snoring. The little one now wrapped around your chest drooling on your collarbone and bakugou knocked out on your shoulder. This felt nice. You continued and watched the movie trying your hardest not to laugh loud enough for both of them to wake up. Once the movie ended it was already dark out so you decided to shift your way out of bakugou’s grasp now firmly wrapped around your waist and bring the little one to bed. The older one watching your every move. 

You’re about to wake up bakugou still knocked out on the couch when you hear, “You’re not our mom you know”. You turn around to see the older one standing there, arms crossed. “I didn’t think I was honey” you say softly walking over him. He steps back and stares at you. “Y-You’re acting like-like our mom used to” he said in almost a whisper. “I’m not here to replace your mom my love. I’m just here to make your family’s life a little easier. I’m sorry if I’m stepping on anyone toes.” He huffed in response. “I just miss her sometimes and you kinda..” He stops himself. You sit down in one of the stools in front of him. “I’m here if you wanna talk about it” you say looking at him. You were unsure about what happened to their mom. Bakugou never mentioned her and neither did the kids. It was almost like she didn’t exist until now. “She left us a while ago. She told us she was coming back for us but she never did. I-I don’t know why” he looked like he was going to cry. You jumped out of your seat to hug him but he rejected it, pushing your arms away. “I can’t trust you. You’re going to leave just like her” he said as he ran to his room and slammed the door. You didn’t want to leave him like this. You couldn’t leave him like this. You waited a while and decided to make him his favorite meal, spicy ramen. You go in front of the door and knock, “I left some spicy ramen in front of the door. I figured you were hungry” you say leaning against the door. No answer. You can hear the door slowly creak open as you walk away and you smile.

 You walk away going downstairs to clean up the mess you made. “Hey” a voice says from the couch. Bakugou stretches his huge muscles and it makes your knees feel a little weak. “Hey sleepy head” you say lovingly. “How long was I out?” he said looking for a clock. “I’m not sure, A while I guess. I finished watching the movie a while ago” you said scrubbing the dish. “Oh” he said in a raspy voice. “Anything happened?” he said, reading your tense body language. “Liam brought up his mom” you said biting your bottom lip not meeting his eyes. “Oh fuck, that agan” he says wiping his mouth with his hand then rubbing his neck. “Yeah, he was pretty upset. Do you mind if I sleep over. I’ll sleep on the couch if anything. I want to make him his favorite breakfast in the morning.” you look up at Bakugou almost with tears in your eyes. She really likes my kids, wow. “U-Um yeah, you can sleep over whenever you like. We have an extra bedroom. I kinda like it better than you going home.” he says looking for your reaction. “I really only use my place to sleep and come back here anyways” you say giggling. “Then you should just move here” he says. 

You both stare at each other. “Yeah, I think I’d like that,” you said trying to conceal your smile.

Tag: @lil-miminini ❤️

[vickyvicarious]

Ace Attorney Daemons - Detectives (+former detectives)

Animal species and reasoning behind each choice under the cut, as well as links to other groups of characters!

Dick Gumshoe - Akita dog. Gumshoe’s daemon was one of the first ones I figured out. He had to be a dog, because he just exudes that energy, and there’s a nice bonus for this dog in particular since it’s the same breed as Missile. Akitas are stocky, strong dogs, and males can often weigh up to 100 pounds. Gumshoe’s a big guy. They tend to be aggressive towards other dogs and have a strong prey instinct, which isn’t quite as fitting for Gumshoe, but he does have a tendency to get up in peoples’ faces sometimes especially when first meeting them - and in any case, with careful socialization they aren’t as aggressive. Akitas are very loyal and eager to please, bred as guardians and hunters, and they have a strong work ethic. Once Gumshoe is on your side, he’s there for good, and although he isn’t necessarily the cleverest man, if you put him to a task he will work tirelessly at it and has multiple times saved the day with his efforts. There’s a famous myth about an Akita named Hachiko whose owner died; he would wait every day for his master at the train station he usually took home for nine years. This felt very fitting for Gumshoe to me, and really the number one reason I chose this breed was for that reputation of enduring loyalty and love.

Ema Skye - Coconut octopus. My first thought was that Ema needs a daemon that uses tools. Her passion for forensic investigation, and using scientific tools in particular, demanded it. Coconut octopodes are famous for picking up coconut shells and carrying them around as mobile homes, or wearing them as ‘hats’ to provide protection from predators. In order to move about effectively in this manner, they also walk on only two legs, which is an unusual and notable behavior. They’re a relatively small species, but still have the usual octopode abilities to change color and release ink. The ink especially made me think of Ema’s luminol, so I loved that. But octopodes in general are very intelligent and in captivity are known to escape their tanks and play pranks, or throw things out of their tanks when annoyed, which is great for Ema. This species spends a lot of its time hidden and darting out to get food; when it does hunt it tends to ‘forage’, wandering about and catching whatever is handy, rather than stalking prey. Ema works with a lot of different people and is in general very adaptable, but as an adult she’s generally a bit more withdrawn/not interested in socializing with everyone all the time. She also snacks all the time so I liked the ‘foraging’ for that.

Jake Marshall - Mule. My initial thought for Jake was actually a coyote, and I’m still a little torn on this one. I knew whatever he ended up with had to be something to fit his whole Wild West theme, which both do. Still, while I think a coyote would be fitting too, in the end I leaned more towards mule for a couple of reasons. First, Jake’s cowboy act is mostly that - he’s actually from LA and there’s no indication he’s ever been to Texas, let alone grew up on a ranch or anything. The stereotypical image of a cowboy is of course riding a horse - so this would be another example of him not quite matching his whole attitude. (Because yes, he would saddle up his daemon and ride her around town.) However, many people actually prefer mules over horses. They’re very intelligent and sure-footed, have excellent endurance and resilience, are relatively calm, and in general are known as an example of 'hybrid vigor’, often gaining the best of both their parents’ traits. When treated well, they are actually quite trainable and willing to work. However, they tend to have a stronger sense of self-preservation than horses and can balk when asked to do something dangerous. Also, if given a negative environment or one without enough mental stimulation, they can develop bad behaviors and be hard to manage. I think all of this fits pretty well for Jake - as far as we know, he was a willing and eager detective, and did his job well at the time. However, since getting demoted he lost all motivation for his work, and developed a lot of bad habits. He also is surprisingly astute and confrontational - if it weren’t for the handprint locks, his break-in would have worked completely, and he realized that there was shady stuff going on and confronted Lana about it.

Angel Starr - White Bengal tiger. Angel may act sweet, but only ever for so long. She’s a hunter at heart. She has a lot of boyfriends, all of whom are useful strategically; Bengal tigers are a polygynous species, with one male mating several females. Though she certainly seems like she can work well with others when needed, Angel strikes me as more of private person. She will spend time with people but not necessarily open up deeply to them, and tigers for the most part lead solitary lives. They are also stealthy predators, often waiting till dusk and camouflaging themselves. They also tend to quietly approach their prey from the side or the back - all of this ‘ambush and stealth’ style seems a fitting match to the way Angel plays sweet and then abruptly lashes out with such ferocity. Originally, I just gave her a regular tiger, but then I thought about it a little more and I actually like the white morph for her. It matches her color scheme and fur jacket, which is a nice detail, and white Bengal tigers are very rare in nature and considered very beautiful. Angel uses her beauty to disarm people, so it just seemed fitting.

Shi-Long Lang - Northwestern wolf. Lang Zi says, “Obviously he’s a wolf! There was never any doubt!” I mean, the amount of wolf references is off the charts with this guy. Wolves, of course, are pack animals, which fits his huge team of subordinates that he clearly knows well. Northwestern wolves are the largest wolves in the world, which is another great reference to that. They’re a bit stockier than some other wolves, adapted to high altitudes, and packs often hunt large prey like elk. Lang goes after some pretty major targets, so that’s a nice nod too. Wolves are intelligent and playful, with complex social dynamics and distinctive howls. They are excellent hunters and can travel for long distances after their prey, as well as just roaming large territories. I mean, I could go on, but of course he’s a wolf so it’d all just be reiterating what we already know.

.

Feys, Misc. Lawyers, Prosecutors, Witnesses, Wright Anything Agency, Villains

[horrorlad]

Horrorlad Reviews: The Dentist (1996)

Or at least, like, talks about it a bunch. 

Boy was I overthinking my first real Horror Lad post! It was going to be Grave Encounters, but that will have to wait, because I got insomnia and decided to rewatch a movie I hadn’t seen seen since I was 14, which wound up being the perfect opportunity to write out a post!

Let’s talk about The Dentist!

So, The Dentist is a 1996 movie starring Corbin Bernsen. It was directed by Brian Yuzna (one of the producers of Re-Animator, he also directed the 1989 body horror film Society which I haven’t seen, though a cursory image search tells me I need to add to my watch list immediately).

Anyway, The Dentist is about a teethsman who catches his wife giving some other guy a BJ and gets so grossed out about it that he has a nervous breakdown about, uh, how dirty mouths are, I guess? He loses his absolute shit (though he didn’t seem to have it all that together to begin with; this guy’s Jack Torrance is way more Kubrick than King), and we the audience get to tag along for all the wacky fun.

Full disclosure: I can’t give an unbiased review of this movie. I watched it several times in high school, then completely forgot about it for ten years, until tonight. There’s too much nostalgia wrapped up in it.

That said, upon rewatching it, I am in LOVE with the structure of it as a film. You know how, some movies, you can tell that the people behind the scenes are having a blast? This is one of those movies. The structure of the shots vary wildly, and I suspect that there was not one tripod or stabilizer on that set. The makeup and effects are fun, every actor has an opportunity to shine at least once, and the pacing is totally bonkers. I will note, however, that for a slasher movie the confirmed death count is pretty low, AND most of the murders are less dentistry-related than you might expect. Still, it’s a good time, and right now it’s available to watch for free (with commercials) on Tubi, which is pretty sweet!

Read on for the content warnings and spoilers. In the meantime, I give The Dentist 3.5 tanks of nitrous oxide (use with caution).

Content warnings and plot synopsis below the cut.

Content Warnings

Also, I don’t really know what to classify this one as, but there is a lot of “ick” factor to this movie — rotting teeth, sludge, etc. If you’re easily squicked out by that sort of stuff, I’d proceed with caution.

Dental torture (and how!) – it’s basically the whole movie, folks.

Sexual assault – multiple instances, including a character having their head forced down while giving oral sex (in a daydream), and another character being assaulted while on nitrous oxide.

Spousal abuse (physical and emotional) – again, there’s a lot of this.

Child abuse – A young child has their gums stabbed by the dentist.

Animal abuse – a dog is shot offscreen.

--------------------------------------

Okay, spoiler time!

Whoo boy, here we go!

I have no idea why I watched this movie so much as a teen. Probably because it was free on FearNet (remember FearNet?) and I would watch just about anything.

Watching it as an adult, my first thought is… man this is weirdly paced. My second thought is that there’s a lot more non-dental-related murders than I would have expected, but we’ll come back to that.

So, our hero(?) is a dentist, and we meet him at the beginning of a framing device, miming dentistry and offering to tell us about his story. The bulk of the movie is then a flashback about how he got to where he is, interspersed with his monologuing or whatever. We meet him and his wife (who are a straight couple in a movie and thus required to completely hate one another) on their anniversary, a fact which becomes clear while he’s in the middle of throwing a fit about his laundry.

Pictured: a totally hinged man. Nothing unhinged going on here, no sir.

At any rate, he gets all suspicious after an interaction with the pool guy, and catches his wife having an affair with the guy. He continues framing-device-monologuing about decay and the world being filthy and all that, daydreams about assaulting his wife and murdering the pool boy, etc. He follows the pool guy to the neighbor’s house, acts all weird, shoots a dog — your basic Tuesday.

Eventually, he winds up at the office, starts hallucinating, assaults a couple of patients, and finally calls an early end to the day (self care is important). We get this delightful (in a heavy-handed sort of way) scene that keeps cutting back and forth between him setting out spooky dental tools and his wife getting dressed for the big anniversary surprise he’s has planned, and that’s when things really start to go haywire.

Okay.

So like.

I get that he’s a dentist.

I get that he’s a dentist whose whole shtick is having the themed exam rooms (though why we have aaaalll these rooms for a bunch of hygienists and one dentist is a little beyond me).

But you mean to tell me that this dude’s special anniversary surprise for his wife was to show her his new, opera-themed dental exam room?

“Oh, honey… you really, really shouldn’t have…”

Like, I know he’s settled on a revenge plot by this point, but I still definitely believe that this guy was legitimately planning the entire time to show his wife his fancy new dental suite as an anniversary surprise. Not to be that guy, but no wonder she was having an affair.

Honestly though, I love this scene. I love the camera PoV shots as he shows off the dental suite, I love the excessive gesturing with his left hand. I love how the scene starts off with his point-of-view of her, and then transitions into her point-of-view of him, cut with those big beautiful teeth-yanking shots. It’s ridiculous.

And then, they get home, he has some monologuing about the pool, etc.

Next scene, it’s the next day, some cops come to ask questions about the murdered dog, his wife is out back on a pool chair with her giant sunhat covering her face (the way normal, totally-not-drugged people hang out by the pool) while the pool guy does his pool guy stuff. Eventually the cops leave, yadda yadda yadda, the pool guy scoops the wife’s tongue out of the pool, he sees how fucked up she is, the dentist murders the shit out of him. It’s beautiful.

Don’t you love it when you finish your to-do list first thing in the morning?

The end.

Wait, no, that’s not right.

Somehow, there’s still almost half a movie left.

This movie starts with this dude fighting with his wife, catching his wife cheating with the pool guy, hallucinating his wife’s nasty mouth on everyone, etc. You’d think that, with his wife tortured all to shit and the pool guy dead, the movie would have wrapped up.

I mentioned before that the pacing of the movie is weird, which it is. I mean, he has his “oop guess I’m evil now” scene on his way to work the next day, which basically means that just over half of this movie is the origin story. It could be longer, with the big climactic nonsense taking up the last quarter or so. It could be shorter, with him freaking out about his wife, losing his shit, and having a proper dental rampage. Instead, The Dentist flies in the face of conventional story structure.

But this man is a busy man. He’s a dentist, damn it.

He has to get back to work!

Things are happening fast now, let’s get condensed.

We go back to work, he pulls some malpractice shit on that lady whose dog he shot yesterday, then strangles Jessica-the-hygienist (I think that’s her job) when she calls him on it. Later, a man from the IRS comes in and uses the dentist’s shady tax junk to get free dental work which is, uh, inadvisable. IRS man, Marvin Goldblum, starts talking about our dentist’s wife (and about how unhinged shiksas are in bed, in case we somehow we didn’t piece together that he’s an awful Jewish caricature), and I’m sure the rest of his appointment goes totally normally.

Get a guy who looks at you like this.

Meanwhile, the cops are definitely onto him regarding the murder of that dog (after all, murdering dogs is THEIR turf). They go to his house, where he left the body of the pool guy he murdered just laying around outside for anyone to find (which they do). Then they go upstairs and find his wife, who is alive but so fucked up.

Back at the office, Karen-the-other-hygienist, looking for her coworker who got murdered earlier, stumbles upon the very fucked up IRS dude. We get to listen to the dentist give a little monologue about how grossed out he is that his wife put some dude’s “dirty, rotten… in her mouth!” before he injects air into a vein in Karen-the-other-hygienist’s neck to kill her.

Next up, this girl who has been waiting for two days to get her braces off gets called back. She’s adorable and chipper, so this, of course, can only go well. When’s the last time you had your dentist pull a gun on you?

Our scrappy youngster runs off, and he gives chase (we find that Mr. Goldblum’s jaw elongation procedure is going well by the way), before eventually letting her go after she promises to take very, very good care of her teeth.

After all, he’s got his next job to get to.

Let’s go teach dental students the importance of pulling out everyone’s teeth!

Yeeep, he’s a teacher! And after he shoots one of his students while hallucinating, the cops show up, resulting in the slowest chase scene any movie has ever had (I mean the dude is literally just briskly walking down the hall and he still gets away from them). Anyway, the dentist winds up in an auditorium where a woman is practicing her opera singing. The dentist is entranced by this (we know he loves opera from that scene with his wife earlier) and reaches out to the singer, but he hallucinates his wife’s hecked up face on her and drops to his knees, presumably to have the rest of his nervous breakdown. The cops… uh… well, they just kinda stand around looking disapprovingly at him while he sits on the floor. And that’s… that’s it, I guess?

“Nah, let him rest, he’s had a big day.” 

 In our final scene, we have some orderlies at his new mental institution drag him down for his regular appointment, where his wife (who I guess is a dentist now) starts drilling at his teeth. This may or may not be a hallucination. It probably doesn’t matter.

Wow. That certainly was a film.

Alright, so, I’ve been typing up my thoughts as I watch, and I think I’ve figured out what I like about this movie, that had me coming back to it over and over as a youngster. There are some movies that just look fun to film, and this is one of them. A number of the shots are really charming, for lack of a better word. There’s the anniversary scene with his wife I mentioned before, but so many others — this movie plays around with point of view, extreme close-ups, some very fun effects used to indicate the hallucinations… there’s even a sideways shot of one of the cops coming down the stairs. I seem to have a real fondness for that sort-of manic, anything-goes approach to filming. Related side note: is there a single steady shot on this whole film? I’m beginning to doubt it.

Corbin Bernsen does a great job. I mean, all the actors do, really, but he is something else. Like, I can’t think offhand of many actors who could successfully take the character “dentist in bad marriage has a nervous breakdown because his wife gives someone else a blow job and it grosses him out; goes on torturemurder spree” without overacting to the point of distraction. “What are you talking about, this dude’s hammier than Easter dinner,” you say. Now, I get the urge here, but I have to disagree; Bernsen plays a fantastic Emasculated White Guy Throwing A Fit.

That picture I posted up there, after the bit about the laundry argument? A dude who makes that face over the idea of wearing the wrong cuff links to work is at most twelve seconds away from completely losing his shit at any given moment. And the dude’s anniversary surprise for his wife was to show off his new, opera-themed dental exam room; none of this behavior seems too off the wall for that character. Granted, I haven’t seen the sequel yet, and the image searches do suggest that our dear dentist is about to use his well-cared-for teeth to chew the hell out of some scenery in The Dentist 2, but in this movie? I’m just saying it’s not an unbelievable portrayal.

Disgruntled white dudes aside, the rest of the cast seems to have a fun time too. Shout out to the receptionist literally sobbing over what a great dentist this guy is (stunning work). If nothing else, stop by for wee baby Mark Ruffalo before he was famous. It’s adorable.

LOOK AT HIM.

ALL THAT SAID, I have to state again how surprised I am by the sheer number of not-dental-related murders! Like, by my count, this guy commits a hefty amount of malpractice, but for a guy on a torturemurder spree, he sure does seem to keep his torture and his murder fairly separate. Let’s tally it:

I’m tired, let’s wrap this up. The Dentist is a fun movie about a dude who loses his shit, does some dental torture, does some murder, does ZERO dental torturemurders, and then just kinda tuckers himself out and sits down. It’s a big silly mess, and I love it.

Tortures: six

The kid at the beginning, the lady he sexually assaults (it counts), his wife (not dead), that lady whose dog he shot, Marvin the IRS guy (alive when last we see him), and the person at the dental school near the end.

Murders: three people, one dog.

The dog (shot), the pool guy (knifed), Jessica-the-hygienist (strangled), Karen-the-other-hygienist (air injected into artery), and that’s… it..? He does shoot that person at the dental school, but it doesn’t appear to be a fatal wound, and Marvin the IRS guy was alive when we saw him last.

Torturemurders: HECKIN’ ZERO.

Zero! None of the tortures are murdered, and nobody he murders is tortured! What the heck kind of slasher dentist doesn’t even kill people via dentistry? No wonder everyone looks down on him at the end.

Alright, first post written. I’m going to bed.

[bealect]

Sweet Summer : A Literary Analysis

Society engage a lot of problems especially in this generation because people tend to judge one’s appearance despite of one’s capability and inner goodness. The definition of Beauty as time goes by is vague and doesn’t have any definite picture to follow. Nowadays, physical appearance is the new way of having friends – in school, work, and even in sudden events. Having a “beauty” means people will respect you and even treat you like a princess. It is quite a dissent because people invariably look upon the figure of a person which is a deficient reason to settle a preference. However, as a society expands, another matter arises – problem after a problem such as the bullying, sexual harassment, and ‘sexism vs. feminism’ issues wherein these broad problems came from the people itself.

In the story entitled, “Sweet Summer" written by Cyan Jugo, it depicts the story of The Candy Club – consists of 12 year old teens who loves to eat sweets every afternoon. A simple story that talks about society today, figuratively.

In the story, it gives emphasis mainly to the characters, the forces, and the Point of View of the speaker. First, the character of each persona in the story, they represents a bunch of roles in society today. Camilla and Faye are kind of people who started to mock everything around them or anything that doesn't beautiful in their eyes and they represents those people who doesn't care in the welfare of others, they have the audacity to see people like a laughingstock thing. Sarah, a figure who has the traits of good and nice seems to have a low self-esteem to herself. However, despite of being aloof to people, she managed to have a conversation to Frederick. She managed to interact with someone she hardly knew and that makes her character notable. The boys including Frederick and his older brother Felix, are portraying the role of majority especially of men – bold and brave.

In terms of conflict of the story, the forces is mainly all about the Man vs. the Society. Literally speaking, reading the story itself is much different when the reader analyzes every details of it. The word ‘society' never found in the story but because of its context, it was concluded to be connected to the recent events of society. The phrase, “Don't walk alone at night," Frederick warned. "People can jump at you like Dolby did." figuratively means, it is dangerous to stay late when it’s already night time. Frederick said those words to Sarah is implying the harm and danger of one's life especially a woman (girl). Basically, it pertains to how a society - supposedly a happy and secure place, could be a reason of one's death. In addition, another reason is apparent in the story – the lack of knowledge or understanding about the sexual aspect of a person. In the first paragraph, the words that were used indicates how the boys acted towards those beautiful girls. Moreover, society tend to set standards of what's good and bad, what's beautiful, and what's beneficiary to majority of people. In the story, it's a clear picture of what's the norms – having a beautiful face and curves and boys having fun staring and ogling like bees to the girls.

Author uses the 3rd Person as Point of View in the story makes sense because the readers hardly analyze the hints and what the authors trying to imply to its readers. Also, having a speaker that is not part of the character in the story is an advantage because readers can't read the entire thoughts of the characters. In the last sentence of the story, “Off they went the way Frederick and Sara had come, but forgetting Sara. Only the dog looked back, licking his nose.”, readers can't or couldn’t conclude what's on the mind of Frederick, but one thing is obvious, his pet dog looked back, and the author give emphasis to the words ‘licking his nose' which as a reader could indicate something – desire. Dogs have this behavior of licking something they like, they like the taste and everything about a particular thing. Author made and emphasize a point that the dog looked back means there might more to happen if there's no interruption or intruder.

In terms of symbolisms or recurrent images - in the sentence, “The older boys had begun to hover about like bees, ogling them like treats – but only the two creamy long-legged eclairs, not the nut-brown fudge in a housedress melting in the sun. ”, the meaning behind it was apparent. The phrase, “to hover about like bees, ogling them like treats - ” means boys are giving too much attention to the girls in a way that their actions dominate by a sexual desire. In the phrase, “only the two creamy long-legged eclairs, not the nut-brown fudge in a housedress melting in the sun” evidently means there’s a preference of what’s beautiful. As the author emphasize to the options, it simply means what’s appetizing in one’s eyes is good. The words, “eclairs” and “fudge” symbolizes a sweet girl or a woman and they just differ with their skin complexion. The ‘eclairs’ are women who usually have a white skin meanwhile the ‘fudge’ are women who have a brown or tanned skin based on the denotative meaning of the two words. In short, both are girls but only the premier is appreciated and noticed by the boys.

Second symbolism or recurrent image in the story is the words spoken by Camilla – one of the members of The Candy Club, “Frederick, walk your two dogs!”. The author used the figures of speech yet it gives a clear explanation that there’s a mocking in the voice of a girl, it could also be an insult and a case of bullying. From the context, it could infer that because of brown skin color of the girl named Sara, probably, there’s an ill-treat of her rights.

Third recurrent image that I read in the story is the statement coming from the brother of Frederick named Felix, “You’re a natural! I’m proud of you! Now let me introduce you to some real yummies over there…”, basically means there’s a privilege in the part of a boy doing an intimate scene with the opposite sex and it made a point that it’s natural and good behavior as a male instead of correcting and explaining what’s the proper way of helping a female without having a dirty thoughts. This kind of mentality must begin at home especially from the family members so that it could reflect to the community and as much as possible, to the society.

Lastly, in the last part of the story wherein it narrates the following, “Sara watched both of them – one, then the other – and wished it had been the boy who had jumped at her and not the dog.”, symbolizes the misleading idea of youths between the lust and love. Moreover, this is a clear picture of how a 12-year-old girl or the teens of today, influences by the notion of the societies norms. This is not just to mere narrates the story but also it carries a message of how a teen reacts to an abrupt emotions in a situation and mistook it to something deep and serious which is not suitable for that age.

In the story, it is a clear representation of the ‘sexism vs. feminism’ issue. The boys including Frederick and his older brother symbolize the strength of men especially on being a dominant in terms of sexual desire. Society of today seems unaware of what’s happening in the issue of the two contradictory beliefs. In the story, Sexism pays attention to the character of the boys at the village’s water tank; it depicts their power over girls especially in the phrase, ‘He picked the honey-lemon. Good, since she wanted the Cloud 9.’, a clear representation of women afraid of voicing out her thoughts. Politicians matches this kind of representation. They are elected because they will serves as the voice of their subject in the Senate however, those motives aren’t somehow present in regards for the recent matters. One thing that is present today that is not included in the story is the rights of everyone – there are now laws regarding to human rights and women rights, and it is a good thing because it indicates how a society works and blends well to people. Discrimination especially the bullying is entirely visible in the story – the bullies and the bullied, and the root of it is one's physical appearance, a norms when it comes to beauty. In the phrase, 'Aachoo!" Faye winked at the bright sky.”, is indirect way of disliking someone, in addition, ‘winked at the bright sky’, figuratively means, diverting attention to something because you can't keep watching someone who is not good in the eyes (don't like).

Another issue of society apparent in the story is the lack of understanding on entertaining sexual thoughts and what can it implies to someone in regards with an actions. The phrase, “- and wished it had been the boy who had jumped at her and not the dog.”, is unusual thought to a 12-year old teen. Giving a point that the author wrote these words implies deep and serious problem of a society such as the increasing numbers of teenage pregnancy, teen mothers, and over population of a country because of improper information dissemination in literacy. Teachers, and parents has a big part in educating these teens through direct, personal, and conversational talks – it could be helpful for a teen who will undergo like in the story's circumstances, they'll easily recognize those temporary emotions and what is the normal thing to do.

This story is may not be sweet and complete ending as readers ought to expect, it is a sweet reminder to everyone that listen intently to people and observe the environment can be a huge help in defining and molding the society’s future. Summer is not just a season after the spring, it could be as hot as this what other people called ‘minor issues’ if people keep on avoiding this supposed to be ‘awareness’.

[marvelmymarvel]

Promote Me, Love Me

Part 4/12

Ronald Speirs x Lieutenant!Reader (Mainly)

Carwood Lipton x Lieutenant!Reader (Kinda)

Synopsis: You have one goal in this war, to rise faster in the ranks than Ronald Speirs from Dog Company. The only problem, you’re hopelessly in love with the crazy man. Will it mess up your chance to be better than the arrogant careless man, or will it make you realize that ranks aren’t everything when it comes to love? But when you find out that your best friend Carwood Lipton has been hiding feelings for you, what will you choose in the end? Speirs, Lipton, or that Golden Rank you’ve dreamt of since you were a little girl, only war will make that decision.

A/N: No one is dating anyone yet... So anything that happens doesn't really qualify as cheating... I promise you. I don't like cheating. Also, I know that I hint a lot at smut but I’m sorry to say that I will never write it. But you’ll know if they do have sex, just won't write it ya know. Anyway, enjoy part 4!

You lifted your head up from Lips shoulder at the sound of a scream. “What the fuck was that” you hissed as you flew up. Lip grabbed your wrist, still half asleep but you pulled out of his grasp, “Y/n I think it's alright, come back sweetheart” he grumbled but you shook your head, “I’m gonna go check it out” you whispered before climbing out. It didn't take long before he was fast asleep once more, he knew you’d be careful. Considering you were surrounded by men that would take a bullet for you, you were safe out there as much as you were in his arms. You walked towards the sound that was now a moan. You heard footsteps from behind you, turning you straightened up “Flash” you called out boldly. Your hand was on your hip as you waited for the person to exit from the treelines. “Thunder” he purred out as he exited. Your heart stopped at seeing Ron and you fought back a smile. “What are you doing out of your foxhole Lieutenant,” he asked as he stepped closer. You were 5 feet away from each other, yet he somehow took your breath away like he was centimeters away from your lips. You just kissed your best friend hours before... Multiple times as a matter of fact after the first one... And yet, Ron seemed to make you forget everything.

“I was going to check out the sound Lieutenant” you whispered out as he stepped even closer to you. Your breath hitched as he towered over you, “Why are you so shaky... Lieutenant” he purred out the title as if it was the sexiest thing he’d ever say. It certainly made your knees buckle a little as he caught you by the arm, his hard grasp made your breathing shallow as you looked up at him. He leaned down, his lips swept past yours and detoured to your cheek and then to your ear. “I find it fascinating that I have this effect over you” he whispered sensually. It sent shivers down your spine as your eyes fluttered closed in lust. He kissed your ear, then down your jaw slowly. When he pecked the nape of your neck was when your eyes snapped open in realization. Pushing him away you backed up against the tree that was only a couple of feet behind you. Your chest was rising and falling quickly as you tried to catch your breath. As you tried to ground yourself from what was about to happen. While you wouldn't have done anything sexual with him in the middle of the woods. You couldn't deny that if he was about to kiss you, you would kiss back without a second thought. But Carwood. “Stay away from me Speirs” you hissed finally pushing off the tree. His face fell into one of confusion, as only hours before you were looking at him as if you wanted to kiss him till he died. Something changed. His face morphed into one of understanding, and he wasn't happy. “You and Sergeant Lipton” He whispered out gruffly. You fell silent, not knowing what to say or do. When you didn't say anything he turned his head to the side as he let out an incredulous laugh that felt dry and made you want to run and hide. Turning his head back to yours he sent a dirty glare that made your heart stop. “And to think I actually-” he began but before he could continue, he heard a branch snap close by. He glared at you before walking towards it, gun in hand, this was your chance to escape the suffocating conversation you two were about to have. Rushing past behind him you heard him talking to a soldier who came to check on the moaning like you did. You ran towards your hole and slid in, breathing heavily you gripped onto Carwoods body like he was the only one that could ground you at that moment. “Hey honey” he whispered out drowsily, you were quiet as you were trying to catch your breath and slow the thoughts that were racing in your mind. When you didn't answer he sat up quickly, now fully alert at the fact that you were possibly in danger. How could he fall asleep and let you go alone?! He couldn't trust that you’d be okay, and right now, he was afraid that-that one sleepy choice had harmed you. “Y/n... What happened” he pressed as he cupped your cheeks in his strong hands. You whimpered out, you couldn't tell him. He would look at you differently. You felt the guilt flood your body as you just shook your head before flinging into his arms, hiding your face in his neck. “I’m so sorry Car” you cried out and he just held you, his mind racing trying to figure out why you were crying and why you were sorry. He pulled you away and grabbed your cheeks once more. “What are you sorry about Y/n” he stammered out, afraid to hear what you were going to say. Your lip quivered at the thought of telling him. While you weren't dating yet, you didn't want to hurt him. You shook your head and sucked your lower lip in between your teeth. “I should have stayed in the foxhole, I’m sorry I didn't listen” you lied before pulling from his grasp and laying back down into his arms. He didn't press. You were thankful. You didn't want to hurt Car... Not on someone who meant nothing to you. But those were empty words that you told yourself to sleep at night. Even then though. You barely slept.

You stayed out of the battle. Instead, you stood up above on the hill with Nixon and Strayer. Sink gave you the heads up earlier that day that you would be promoted to Captain in the intelligence side of things. No more combat. Much more stress. So here you were, being shown the good and bad things that were happening down below by Nixon. Who you would be working with for the rest of the war unless you were promoted once more. You were shaky as you brought out a cigarette, putting it to your lips, you lit it. Inhaling the smoke, you began to feel your muscles relax, but your heart was on that field. Your heart was in the danger. How can one possibly relax, when you could possibly see someone you love die in front of your eyes. And you couldn't do anything about it. Exhaling shakily, an evil thought crossed your mind. ‘Who exactly are you even worried about’. The thought made your heart skip a beat as the cigarette settled in between your shaky fingers. Your head snapped over to a heavy metallic sound from the right portion of the field. 

“Holy shit” you whispered as you saw the German tanks rolling up. Your heart stopped as you stepped forward, your cigarette falling from your fingers as the tank shot out towards the left flank. 

“Sir, Dog and Fox company are pulling back” You heard Nixon call out to Strayer “WHAT” Strayer hollered while turning to the left flank. Your blood ran cold. Dog. “Ron” you whispered out as you saw all the men flying out of the trees. 

“Who gave them that order goddamnit” Strayer hissed and you just watched in pure and utter fear. “Please” you whispered to yourself as you watched more bombs explode along the tree lines. “Please let him live.” You were begging, pleading for his life... For both of their lives. Your head snapped up at another sound, a tank shell exploded at the Germans tank. Your eyes widened in shock and your head whipped towards Lewis who was watching through binoculars. You were praying it was a good sign. Looking back, you saw what it was. 

The sight made every muscle in your body relax. Chills erupted on your arms as you broke out into a gigantic smile. “Well hello second armored” Nixon called out from behind you and you let out a relieved laugh as tears formed in your eyes at the beautiful sight of the Shermans. With their help, the airborne was able to push back the Germans and you were finally able to capture Carentan with no more backlash. By the end of the battle, all of the Easy company soldiers emerged from the trees and you flew down the hill. Lip’s eyes lit up once he caught sight of you. You felt yourself melt at the mere thought of his arms wrapped around you. Safe. Calm. Secure. Flying into his arms, he encompassed you in warmth and safety “Hi sweetheart” he whispered softly as he held you close. “Are you okay Car?!” you whispered after a couple seconds of just holding onto him for dear life. You pulled away a little and ran your hands along his shoulders and body, looking for any wounds or blood. Finally, your hands grabbed at his face, looking at him as if you couldn't quite capture a mental image of him. As if he would fade away any second now. As if this was a dream and you’d find him dead in some trench hole. Cold and bloody. Something you would die to never see. “I’m okay Y/n” He laughed out at your frantic ways. It was really quite adorable, the way you were so adamant about finding him, that you ran down the hill instead of taking the Jeep with Strayer and Nixon. But that would have taken too long. You needed him. Now. ‘Needed who?’ the thought crossed your mind and you silenced it by kissing Carwood firmly on the lips. Holding his cheeks securely in your grasp, you deepened the kiss as he wrapped the arm that wasn't holding his gun around your waist. Pulling you closer to his body, you pulled away before pressing your forehead to his. Your eyes traveled behind him to see the other men. But they stopped on one man. You saw him behind Carwood, making your breath hitch as he watched blankly at you both. You pulled your face away from Lip and smiled softly at Ron. “I’m so glad you’re okay... Ron” you stated stubbornly. No emotions were laced in the tone, but you knew that it was difficult to hide the emotions bubbling under your skin from appearing in your eyes. Apparently, Ron had the same issue. His face was blank and emotionless, but his eyes spoke of nothing but pain and heartbreak. It was true. He did like you. Ron nodded before turning swiftly to walk away. Carwood was watching and still held you close by the waist. “What was that all about?” He whispered out at Ron’s dismissive attitude. You simply shook your head before turning to press your lips once more to his. “Doesn't matter” you muttered out finally before stepping back and grabbing his hand in yours. “Let's get you cleaned up” you cooed as you looked at his disheveled state. He smiled and you two took off towards the trucks that would hopefully take you somewhere where there were warm showers and warm beds. A place.. Where you and Car could finally go on a date. Where you could hopefully forget all about Ron. But that seemed highly unlikely as well. 

Aldbourne was relaxing. While you and Carwood didn't really go on a date. You started to feel your emotions lessen towards Ron. Maybe you just needed to get closer to Lip... Maybe you were just getting better at suppressing it. You didn't really know. But you were getting drunk in the barn with Dick and Car so you didn't really care at the moment. 

Nixon walked in and you smirked at your partner in crime, “Well hello there” you slurred out as you leaned against Dick for support. Lew rolled his eyes playfully at you but leaned in to tell you both of the news. It made you sober up real quick and you cleared your throat before setting down the beer you had in your grasp. “Can you tell him Y/n?” Nix asked you and you nodded before you all three broke away. Walking over to Car, you slid your hands down his shoulders and to his chest before wrapping them around him lazily as you leaned behind him. “Word just came in.” You started quietly into his ear as he grabbed your clasped hands that rested on the middle of his chest. He zoned out from the men around him, tuning into you and only you. “The training exercise tonight at 2200 hours is canceled. Passes are revoked and we are moving back out to France...” you whispered quietly, finally feeling the weight of those words as your fingers absentmindedly grabbed at his shirt tightly. He moved his head more towards your lips as he looked up at you. “Everyone needs to get their stuff ready immediately... We won't be coming back anytime soon. The trucks will be leaving from Membury at 0700...” you continued sadly and he just nodded at you before looking back down. Pressing your lips to his ear you let go of his shirt and backed away. Grabbing the beer you had set down, you walked out as Lip stood to give the announcement, you didn't want to hear it... Seeing the men's disappointed faces was enough pain to give you nightmares. They couldn't seem to get free of the hell. You hated that. Swigging the last of the beer in the bottle you walked towards the house in which you and Lips room was. “You alright there Captain” you heard someone call out from behind you. You whirled around shakily seeing Ron standing behind you with a cigarette hanging between his lips. Your eyes were on the cigarette but they shot up realizing you were staring at his lips as well. The taste. His taste. Fuck. “Lieutenant Speirs” you greeted with a slight nod, trying to hide the fact that you were caught staring, and that you knew you were caught staring. The smile that formed on his lips made you uneasy but made your insides swirl as well. “Care for a cigarette... Y/n” He whispered as he stepped forward, offering the box to you. You hesitated, thinking about all the stories you had heard. But you weren't afraid of him. Your eyes lazily shot back up to his and you scoffed quietly to yourself. “You gonna shoot me if I say yes” you garbled out, your eyes widened in realization and you promised yourself to never drink like this again. His smile fell into a scowl and he felt dangerous as he stepped closer to you. Your eyes shot to the carton, not really able to handle the glare he was giving you. “Just take the cigarette... Y/n” he muttered out coldly, “And find out if the rumors are true.” Your eyes shot back up from the pack of smokes to his eyes, your mouth felt dry and you cleared your throat before taking a cigarette. Putting it in between your lips, he lit it for you. Never breaking eye contact. You exhaled the smoke and nodded at him. “I never believed them anyway” you murmured before turning to leave, he watched your body retreat and he couldn't help the smile that formed on his lips. “Good” he murmured to himself before turning around to head back towards the barn where he took off from when he saw you leave. He didn't want his favorite girl being afraid of him. For he’d always be there to save you. Even if there was someone in his way. Lipton wouldn't be in the way for much longer. The minute you realized how much safer you felt around him instead of Lipton, it would be game over. He would win you over. He thought as he turned his head back to see you entering the house, you would be his. He turned back as he entered the now quiet barn. He would die trying.

Part 5

tags:

@hell-itwasyou @desired-love-

[akelyokikagu]

Shower Realisation

Sometimes, what makes you realise love is not your heart nor your brain. Okita realised it now, after seeing Kagura, after two long years of longing and waiting. However, this girl was clueless as always, perhaps this small accident under the shower would help?

Okita was slightly disappointed when he had to go and ask Mutsu for this favour; because apparently, the Chinese female wouldn't deign to come back properly. Even though it had been well past two years since he last saw her, he still remembered their promise very well. She couldn't lose to anyone but him, and he would protect Edo when the Shinsengumi are away.

Which is why, after their fight with Utsuro, that girl decided to run off to space for her stupid mutt and left him without words. Even back then, had he not gone to find her at the bridge they would be without farewell and while they weren't really known as friends he thought she'd be smarter than that. Their rivalry mattered, perhaps even more than he wanted to admit and it was too late to regret the fact he cared for this idiot. He was without her for two years and his body was dull, life was so damn boring when she wasn't there to prank on. He realised that China had become part of his life, without her it wouldn't be the same. And after two years he was even sure that he couldn't bear that.

He sounded like a hopeless romantic. He seriously wanted to puke, and he was going to— maybe on her when she decides to return home.

Because Edo was her home. Not any other planet, nor space and the universe. She had a whole lot of family, friends and idiots to welcome her and she was late. So, as a good friend he brought her back.

Even something this simple, the redhead couldn't do. When he saw the child-figure instead of his favourite rival he bit back his anger, that girl had always been so shameless and confident— why would she change that while growing up? She certainly had become shy with time, refusing to come back as 'Kagura' but instead lying to everyone's faces that she was her daughter.

Ha, as if that gorilla could get knocked up. As if she could, Okita was irritated. He never liked complicated stuff. This was partly why he got along with China: she was simple and frank, she didn't beat around the bush.

So he wasn't going to, either.

Shinpachi looked at him like he was a madman but Okita didn't care, he lunged at this brat who was being even more idiotic than usual today. He gave her plenty of chances to admit her wrongdoings; asked her who was the dad and if it were the boss (blegh). He even went as far as leaving his pride and talked honestly to her; he missed her. He cared for her. Their relationship mattered.

Was this gorilla of a female still as clueless as back then? She acted like he didn't say anything important and still refused to show herself, so he went to the next step and injured a little bit Shinpachi. It was then that she appeared, finally.

He would be lying if he didn't say he wasn't expecting something. That girl had become sixteen, a fully fledged woman for them and he was twenty, a fully fledged man. The hormones may be striking, but for the first time he found a female striking besides his sister. Mitsuba was a loving woman, elegant, poised and soft-spoken and being his sister automatically made her someone he'd respect.

China, on the other hand, was different.

"That girl is finally back," he mumbled to himself with a grin he couldn't stop from stretching all over his face. Her face had become a lot sharper than back then, losing all its baby fat, and so were her eyes. Blue as ever. He was almost sad upon noticing how tall she was now, reaching beyond his shoulders. Here he thought he grew tall enough so she wouldn't call him a chihuahua anymore.

Then her kick came, right into his stomach. Her strength had grown as well, but he didn't it coming.

Why the hell did she wear such… skin-showing clothes? He got it. She was a fighter and needed comfortable clothes to kick asses but why was her short so short?

"Bugh!" He was sent into a wall. His back was hurting. No, his whole body was aching but his brain was certainly melting.

Upon kicking him, Kagura had revealed milky white legs, toned and deliciously smooth to him and he couldn't help but stare a bit. He was a healthy young man of twenty years, after all.

That girl— or rather, woman, had grown some assets after all. She properly looked like a female, not that he didn't acknowledge it before but her younger-self wasn't exactly raised by women and had very wrong ideas as to how to show her femininity.

He glanced back at Shinpachi, almost relieved that the forever-virgin boy had not stared indecently at her like he did. Then, almost with a laugh, he said that their 'beloved brat' had come back, not before he personally welcomed her before of course.

Though, she was anything but a brat now.

Because both of them were in the search of the boss, Okita decided to not say anything unrelated. His purpose was not only to get China but also bring the Yorozuya together so they, the Shinsengumi, would be able to fight by their side again. Him, by her side.

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )

It was late at night, they were staying at the Yorozuya as China had nowhere to stay at, and him too. At least, that was what he told her and she didn't think more of his words. For a young woman she wasn't exactly careful, he frowned, didn't he realise that she was spending the whole night with a man? Or did she not see him as a man? The latter was very likely; even though he had known since the start that China was a girl and considered her as such, she never acted like he was a proper male. Perhaps it was the time for her to learn.

Suddenly, mental images invaded his brain. Some quite indecent, at that, and Okita groaned as he never had to fight those urges before. There were a lot of time where the Shinsengumi members would venture to Yoshiwara, as they couldn't bring females to compounds the crew would have some fun with courtesans. He sometimes followed, curious or bored, but never found the need to do it in the end. He'd stop at making them bark like dogs.

Kagura, who was sitting not far from him on the couch closed in the distance and hit his head. Hard.

"What?" He angrily asked, part of him wondering if her womanly sensors finally caught on the train of dirty thought he was having about her.

"You looked like you wanted to die, I thought I'd help you out. Returning the favour," she said with a blank face, before returning her attention to the TV. Kagura had already taken a shower and he could smell the sweet scent drifting from her, what did she use? This was why he sat further from her, it was so damn tempting. Everything was so damn tempting, the way her wet hair stuck at her, her flushed skin or how the top was slightly transparent because of the water.

"Yeah, I kind of want to die right now," he whispered. "I'll go take a shower."

"Uh-uh," she nodded. "You can use my shampoo if you want. You stink of blood, Sadist."

"Geez, thank you China. I feel really loved by you."

He left the room, definitely believing that a cold shower was to be. Besides, she wasn't entirely wrong and their fight made him smell like a mix of sweat, dust and blood.

The cold drops on his body felt good and cooled him in more than one way. He wondered whether all his feelings came from pure lust or something else and if that something else hadn't rooted itself in his heart three years ago. When he was eighteen he didn't care about such things, did not think about the future. Meeting China was a life-changer because for once there was someone of his age able to keep up with him and make the child in him come out. She did not treat him like a captain or a killer but just like any boy she met.

Okita realised that his feelings toward his rival may go far beyond those of a friend or an ally, but something much deeper. He felt it when she was away, and he was feeling it now she came back.

"Shit," he didn't know if he should cry or laugh or both at the same time. He was sure to fund a family a day or another in his life, but not with that woman. Then again everything seemed to make sense, ever since she appeared in his life she had supported him when nobody else could. She was the only person who would read him so easily. The fact that he was getting aware of her presence made it more obvious to him; he had it for her.

He was in love with China girl.

"I thought Kondo-san and Hijikata-san would be the only fools," he laughed softly.

"Sadist?" The voice that made his heart jump echoed through the door, "Are you okay? You've been there for a long time."

Okita was too startled to answer and then hear one knock. Then a loud noise, as Kagura had apparently broken something to enter the room. The steam was vanishing and his skin was tingling with the sudden breeze, but most of all, he was stark naked as Kagura entered the room.

"Did you faint or somethi—"

Her eyes fell on him. Then, lowered progressively as he was very much frozen.

"Oh."

What did that mean?

Kagura's face went from pale to red as she looked away, mumbling something like apologies and closed (what remained of) the door. If her steps were any indication, she was dashing to her closet.

"What the hell just happened?" Okita felt at loss and went out of the shower. He quickly dried himself and put on a tank top and a short, but then hesitated to go and sleep in the bathroom. How should he face her? She had seen him under all angles… And more, it was embarrassing. He felt self-conscious and squirmed in horror that the girl he realised he loved, just saw all of him. At least, he wasn't too shabby.

With a heavy sigh, Okita walked out of the room and messed his hair. After reaching the bedroom, he knocked at the closet's door.

"Oi China, come out."

Silence.

"Just so you know, this is your fault."

She didn't look like she wanted to speak to him, and this was exactly the best timing for him to confess the feeling he had discovered for her. So, Okita wished her good night and prepared his own futon before sliding into it. It was so awkward he wanted to die.

"Are you sleeping?" A small voice came from the closet.

"Nah."

"...I just wanted to say goodnight too, Do-S. Tomorrow, let's act as if nothing happened."

Okita was tempted to accept her proposition, but in the end, he smirked and laughed "Oh no you don't. I hope you enjoyed what you saw."

"What?! You damn pervert!"

"You were the one to open the door and peek China," he teased her until she went silent again.

As much as he was embarrassed by the whole thing, it certainly brought a positive change. There was no contest now that China was aware of him being a male.

And he had a lot more in his pocket to show her.

[most-likely-terrible-dr-imagines]

Hey-lo there! I’m doing well, I hope you are feeling good as well dearie!

- Modaca

Warnings: Cursing and suggestive dialogue.  

Teruteru Hanamura “Teru.” Your voice came out in a whine, your hand shooting out to fend off your relentless boyfriend who was holding out a sparkly pink dress in ‘just your size’.

“Please, I’ve never seen you in something like this before. You’d look so adorable.” The chef begged of you, practically drooling over the mental image he had come up with. 

“Would you stop it, that’s gross.” You sighed in frustration, furrowing your eyebrows. After a second of that puppy-dog look he started to give you (after wiping the drool off his face), you finally yanked the dress out of his hands. “Five minutes, but no pictures and we’re not buying it.” You said in a huff. 

“Yes my love, thank you.” Teruteru told you, a very happy smile on his face as he watched you leave. He had never seen you in a dress or a skirt before, that was why he was so eager about this. While waiting for you, however, he looked over the shelves absentmindedly; he couldn’t help but wonder what was taking you so long. 

That was until he heard you yelp, followed by the sound of your body hitting against the wall. “Dresses are stupid!” He could hear you shout, he had to put his hand over his mouth to keep from laughing.

“S/O, are you okay?” He called down to you, seeing that the woman who gave out the little numbered cards to hang on the door was no longer there. So he decided to walk into the women’s dressing area. He was short enough that he didn’t have to bend down to look for your feet, however he didn’t even need that. He could hear you struggling. 

“Damn... Stupid... Fucking- agh!” 

“Save that kind of dirty talk for later.” Teruteru said out of pure instinct. “Do you need help?” He asked, and within seconds you kicked open the door. The sight that he was able to witness was probably one of the funniest things he’d see all week. 

You still had on biker shorts and a tank-top, so there was nothing really for him to see in that area. That wasn’t the funny part, you hand the pink dress over your head, your hands currently raised and just dangling around. “I knew this was a dumb idea!” 

Finally, he allowed himself to laugh at the sight. “Here, it’s not that hard.” He said, walking over to you and tugging down the dress. Soon enough he could see your face again. “There’s my pretty s/o.” Teruteru chuckled, but your gave him an unamused look. Soon enough you had the dress pulled all the way down, and he discovered there was both a zipper and a bow in the back that you hadn’t undone, which was why you were in that situation originally. 

Looking at yourself in the mirror, your cheeks began to flare with red. “Take it off.” You said, your arms beginning to flail around while trying to grab the zipper. 

“Aww, but you look so cute!” Teruteru gushed over you. “I really am the luckiest man in the world, besides you promised five minutes!” He said, remembering what you had said. He planned to milk that five minutes for all it was worth, since you said no pictures. 

At what he called your, your face only got redder until finally you pushed him by his face to kick him out of the dressing room. “I lied! I thought I could handle it but I can’t!” You shouted, locking the door. Of course he could crawl under the door if he really wanted to but you hoped he wouldn’t. 

After a bit of frustration you escaped from the little dress of horror and returned to your comfortable hoodie and biker shorts, able to tame your now frizzy hair with your hat. “There, go put this back.” You said, handing it the dress back to him. However he didn’t take it, he just kept staring at you. “... What?” 

“You know, S/O, while you were very pretty in that dress you’re also beautiful in the way you’re dressed now; I like it when you’re comfortable.” Teruteru told you, a smile came to your lips. Thinking that he was being so sweet, unfortunately he was quick to ruin that. “But you’re the best when you’re not wearing anything.” 

“Just take the shitty dress back!”

[jade-bellatricus84]

A Chance Encounter

Prompto Argentum sat on the ground, leaning against a small stone wall as his dog, Zeus, laid beside him and chewed on his ball. Zeus was mostly dark grey, he had a large white patch on his chest and an extremely thin white stripe going up his snout. The young blonde was flicking through the images on his camera's display screen with a soft smile on his face.

"You see this one, buddy?" He turned the camera around as the dog looked up in curiosity. "This is the best one. That's you."

He gave a soft chuckle as Zeus gave a soft woof of acknowledgement. He reached out to rub his head as he continued to look through all the pictures he took today. He had so many pictures of Zeus from today, though that was only a small portion of all the pictures he had taken of him in the two years they'd been together.

He had gotten Zeus when he was about a year and a half old. He'd been volunteering at the local humane society about three uears ago when he saw a rush of vetrinary staff rushing back towards the clinic. There had been a page over the intercom for all vet. staff members to return to the clinic and then gave some code to signify what the emergency was. Little had he known that the pup that came in would change his life for the better.

A few weeks after the emergency call and Prompto found himself back at the humane society volunteering. He noticed a new pup that was in a hip cast and looking totally and completely dejected and miserable. His heart went out to the pup. As the weeks went by he watched as he recovered and grew stronger. He was a pitbull mix and, despite the stigma towards pitbulls, he was the sweetest baby he'd ever met. He quickly became attached to the little guy.

Not much was known about his history prior to winding up at the facility. He knew he'd been hit by a car and that the person had immediately rushed him into the humane society clinic. He didn't have any identification tags on him at the time and he wasn't chipped so owners could locate him if he got out. It was a miracle he had survived his accident, he was a miracle pup.

Fast forward about six months and Prompto was sitting before one of his fellow staff members filling out the paperwork to adopt him. The staff had named him 'Lucky' and there was no question as to why. He wanted him to have a completely fresh start though and so he opted to change his name. From that day forward he would be known as Zeus. The next few days of his volunteering were long. Not from any difficult work but from knowing that come five o'clock on Friday Zeus would officially be coming home with him.

Fast forward another two years and they've become best friends. Prompto still went to volunteer at the Humane Society and Zeus always eagerly awaited his return. They went for walks in the park everyday and they would play ball and even wrestle a little. Today was a bit different. They had gone for a run around the park, took pictures and had lunch under the shade of a large oak tree. Now as they sat looking out at the scene before them a sudden large shadow cast over them.

Prompto looked up to see a very large man with tan skin and his arms covered in tattoos. He had dark brown hair that he'd pulled some of it back into a ponytail and the most entrancing amber colored eyes he'd ever seen. He was wearing a black tank top and as his eyes traveled to his shoulders he saw the most detailed feather he'd ever seen etched into his skin. The feathered wings traveled down both of the large man's arms.

"That's a nice dog you got there. What's his name?" The voice that left his lips was a rich baritone that sent shivers down the young blonde's spine.

"U-Uh...um, Zeus. His name is Zeus." He blushed lightly as he looked away from the man. Zeus was fast asleep at this point, curled up with his head on his owner's lap.

"Nice. Fits, too. He looks like a Zeus. I'm Gladio, by the way." He smiled a confidently at the smaller male.

"Thanks. I'm Prompto. It's...nice to meet you." He smiled back at Gladio.

"So I'm new in town and I, uh..." He paused with a soft chuckle. "I keep getting lost...mind giving me a lay of the land?"

"Oh! Yeah, sure!" Prompto smiled softly. This small town wasn't that confusing but if he was really new to town he could understand how not knowing anything about the place could make things confusing.

"So, this here is, obviously, the park. It also happens to be the center of town so usually if you get lost and can make your way here it's easy to find your way. The town is also pretty circular in nature and most of the roads lead out to the beach and ocean." He wasn't sure he'd be able to explain the town so he stood up and attached Zeus' lead to his harness. "It's probably best to just show you..."

"Well, I mean if you wouldn't mind." He smiled softly and reached out to rub the now very much awake pitbull. "How old is he?"

"Ah, he's three years, five months and sixteen days." He bit his lip nervously. Was that too detailed?

"Cool. Do you celebrate his birthday?" He seemed thoroughly interested, not just being nice to appease him into helping.

"Uh, yeah, I usually do. These last two I have anyways...and I celebrate his Gotcha Day too. You know the day where I could finally bring him home with me...? His Gotcha Day." He shrugged some as if it was no big deal. Zeus was a very loved and very spoiled pup.

"Nice. So what made you pick this little guy?"

"He reminded me of myself. Lost, hurt, alone. Granted his hurt was physical, mine is more mental and emotional." His eyes widened as he realized he just told that to a complete stranger. Then he forced a smile and a laugh. "I mean...everyone's got baggage, right?"

"Yeah...I know what you mean. Everyone's got demons to face and dragons to fight. When you find someone, human or animal, who can connect with your own...you hold onto them." He sensed that the younger male didn't want to go into details so he quickly changed the subject. "Okay, so where's the place to eat in this town?"

"The Town Bar & Grille. By far the best place for a burger and beer. It's got a bit of a rustic, country feel to it but it's just so...comfortable. Everyone there is a family and you always feel at home. The food has a home-cooked quality about it and there's always a friendly smile from the employees." He smiled softly. There was a sweet fondness to his expression.

"Damn, sounds like my kind of haunt. Let's go."

"What, now?" Prompto was surprised by the sudden invitation. "Um...I mean I'll have to take Zeus home first but okay."

The bigger man smiled and motioned for the small blonde to take the lead. Prompto was surprised but turned down the next street and headed towards his studio apartment. They got to his building and Prompto turned to look at the man.

"I'll be right back. I gotta put some fresh water in his dish and I always feed him after a walk, so it'll be a few minutes...unless...maybe you'd...like to come up?" He looked down nervously.

"Sure, if you're comfortable with that." His amber eyes shined as the sun glinted off of them. The smaller male nodded and he gestured for him to go on.

Prompto led the way up to his apartment, greeting his neighbors as he went. He unlocked the door and unhooked Zeus as he moved to go grab his food and water bowls. Once he had those filled he went to put up his toys from the walk and pulled out a few for his home play time. He started to put his camera up when that smooth baritone voice called out to him.

"Would you mind showing me your pictures?" He gestured to the camera, he was looking at a few of the pictures he'd taken of him and Zeus and the scenery shots he'd framed and put on the shelves.

"Um, sure...Alright, buddy, I'll be back later." He leaned down to rubs Zeus' head and with that the small blonde left the apartment with Gladio.

...To be continued...hopefully...

[brownskinsugarplum76]

2017 time capsule

This is my first piece of writing that I've released into the wilds of the cyberspace. I wrote this for a writing class assignment. I hope to do this more often!

***

Now seated, with their tickets zapped, the travel room door was closed. Lisa and Randall held hands as the hyperspace drive geared up, emitting a loud whir. The room spun rapidly, and then, darkness.

When everything was still again, the couple adjusted their eyes to the flickering fluorescent light of the tiny room in which they found themselves. Lisa pulled her ticket out of the pocket of her new jeans and read the ticket again: a departure from Philadelphia today, October 14, 2217, 12 p.m., arriving in Philadelphia on October 14, 2017, 12 p.m., with a return date of October 15, 12 p.m., admission for one. The target point field of the ticket indicated that they would arrive and depart from a janitor’s closet in the subway.

She shoved the ticket back in her pocket. She was still getting used to the feel of the fabric, a mix of denim and Lycra. She marveled at the women of that time opting to wear such tight pants, but knew it was necessary to fit in. The tank top, hoodie, and sneakers that she also wore were more tolerable, but also not as comfortable as her usual wardrobe of tunic, drawstring pants and sandals.

Also odd to Lisa was seeing Randall’s hair reaching for the sky, in what they'd seen described in the character catalog book as a high-top fade, a haircut, they surmised, was folded into the culture of the day from an even earlier time, the 1990s. It was funny to see how there was no signature style of the early 2000’s, just lots of borrowing from other distinctly recognizable eras that came before. She had to admit that the hairstyle was a good choice to complete his 2017 look, which also featured skinny jeans, a T-shirt featuring the rapper Future, and multicolor sneakers. The cost of the time travel ticket also covered one time-appropriate outfit, and she recalled the fun they’d had scrolling through all the options in the station’s electronic inventory.

It was a great birthday present from Randall, this trip to the past, Lisa thought. His family could afford to go regularly on the excursions, which had become popular in the past decade, but this was her first trip, and she was excited to take in the sights and experiences of this point in her city’s past, even if the time period wasn’t necessarily the most fun. They'd known all about the divisive president back then, through images of his Twitter communications that were interspersed with the words in the history book in their university ereader device. They laughed at how foolish his words all sounded, but they knew that those communications, and the sentiment and actions of many in that government, were terrifying to many groups of people for many different reasons. She would’ve preferred going to another time, like London or San Francisco in the late 1960s, to soak in the vibes of the bustling music scenes in those places, but this was the best that Randall could do for their last-minute travel, and it was the thought that counted.

Emerging from the closet, they scanned their surroundings: the concrete floor of the subway platform, the wooden benches, and the walls adorned with ads for the iPhone X, the impending premiere of the Netflix series Stranger Things 2, and opioid addiction treatment centers. Lisa shuddered from her remembrance of lessons on actions begun to curb the epidemic of prescription pill dependence that some historians that year had dubbed the second “war on drugs.”

The couple tried their best to ignore the stench of urine, and ascended a staircase to the street. They found themselves standing in front of the landmark clothespin statue, the steel structure designed by Claes Oldenburg that still stood in the same spot in their time. They took in the sights: the pulsing flow of commuters, the assortment of cabs, cars and buses careening around City Hall, and the street vendors selling cheesesteaks, hoagies, hot dogs, soft pretzels and fruit salad. A man blasted Cardi B’s “Bodak Yellow” from his cellphone, as he sat on one of the stone pillars surrounding the statute, taking in the swelling crowd of people finding food and running errands on their lunch break. The song was newly popular at that time but still played regularly on Lisa and Randall’s favorite web station, Hip-Hop Nostalgia.

And then they heard the roar of a frenzied crowd a block away.

They walked closer and saw the crowd was fanned around a statue. Most people were shouting for the statue to come down, but a few people were standing close to the statue in solidarity with police officers who were protecting it.

“RIZZO MUST GO,” one protester’s sign screamed.

“Mayor Frank Rizzo,” Randall said, connecting the mental dots from what he had read about this era of Philadelphia. “This was during the fight about the statue coming down,” he told Lisa.

“That's right,” Lisa said slowly. “There sure was a lot that happened during this year, wasn't there?” she asked, a little more disheartened that they hadn't been transplanted to the Summer of Love, Haight-Ashbury neighborhood instead.

[trendingnewsb]

The 5 Stupidest People On The Planet (Are All Donald Trump)

How many times are you allowed to say or do something stupid before you realize you yourself are stupid? Seven times? 24? Butts? Rush Limbaugh has been wrong about 270 things a day for 40 years, and he would be truly shocked to learn he’s stupid. We aren’t good at spotting our own intellectual limitations. We walk around thinking we’re brilliant, no matter how many times we get our head stuck in an alligator or our genitals stuck in an alligator. I can prove it: I think I’m smart enough to write an article on intelligence, and the only book I’ve read is the movie Bloodsport. I also recently typed the number butts. Twice. Hold on, butts times now.

The cluelessly stupid are a diverse and colorful community, but most of them fall into one of five distinct categories. I’ll include a famous example of each one, which may end up getting confusing, since our dumbfuck president is somehow the example for all five. So here is a list of dumb idiots, which is maybe the best idea I’ve had for an article since 8 Album Covers White People Could Never Pull Off or Your 3rd Grade Textbook, Only Written By Gary Busey. Here’s the book cover for when it inevitably gets adapted into national bestseller:

One last thing before we start. I imagine that some of you have already taken the idea of this article personally, and you’re keenly watching for any logical flaw, strawman fallacy, or typo which will allow you to dismiss me as a totally wrong hypocrite. If so, I have some bad news: You’re much dumber than you think, and this article is about you. And since you’re already in the comments section, the rest of this sentence is for everyone else: See if you can guess which entry that guy was!

We live in a world infested with experts — body language experts who speculate on handshake meanings, social media experts who tweet about Twitter to Twitterbots, romance experts who tell you how to fuck on a pizza*. There are no rules to declaring yourself an expert. And when you’re self-important enough to think universally shared experiences are yours alone, you become a Keeper of the Common Knowledge.

*Cheese-up, while generously fingering your lover’s pepperoni chakra. You’re welcome, couples.

A Keeper of the Common Knowledge can become a leading mind on a subject after a Wikipedia paragraph or a few hazy childhood memories. Here’s how it works: Every day, about 4,500 American tourists check into Paris hotels. After a few days of standard vacation packaging, they come home, and their barely noteworthy trip is only brought up every time France is mentioned for the rest of their lives. But for a Keeper of the Common Knowledge, those three days offered an insight into a culture so complete that they know the mysterious French people better than they know themselves.

A Keeper of Common Knowledge offers their wisdom when you need it least. They are bursting with things no person could possibly not know, and it spills out at the slightest relevance. They might insert themselves into a discussion about pro wrestling only to explain it’s fake. If you make eye contact with them at a buffet, they give conspiratorial advice, like how to pile the most expensive foods into little shrines honoring your victory over the restaurant. They interrupt movies to share arcane knowledge like how guns are quite noisy or hanging from a cliff makes your arms tired. They’re the kind of person who tells you not to use shampoo as a lubricant, as if they’re the inventor of making love to a bowling ball. Let me spend Valentine’s Day however I want, genius.

Helping Understand Keepers Of The Common Knowledge With Stupid President Donald Trump

Remember when Trump was always saying he was the best at military? That wasn’t a crafty lie to get the tank loader vote; he really thinks that. But why? How? He dodged military service with a note from his gynecologist, and the only book on war he’s read is a Hitler cat recipe book. Well, I’ve done my best to piece together how he came to think of himself as the greatest military mind of our time. It’s pretty amazing how many personality and mental disorders had to come together to make it happen. Keep in mind that I’m not a licensed doctor and can’t diagnose him. However, I do know that popular disabled impersonator Donald Trump has so much evil inside him that his proctologist’s ungloved fingers now add an anus to any flesh they touch. When Trump got an MRI, the computer just showed an image of his daughter squatting over Jesus Christ and peeing into his missing eyes. With that in mind, let’s examine the 4D chessboard the commander in chief calls his “very good brain.”

During the debates, Donald complained that George Patton was spinning in his grave because we announced we were going into Mosul. “Why not go in quiet?” he asked many times. It was most likely rhetorical, but also so ignorant that one moderator accidentally answered it for him. Also, Patton famously led an insane decoy army to distract the Nazis. Saying he’s spinning in his grave over someone being bold is like saying, “I didn’t even read the Netflix description of the movie about the guy I’m invoking” and then adding, “It is truly impossible to miss how terrible I am. I am a walking DO NOT IRON WHILE WEARING SHIRT label. People see me and wonder what helplessly uninformed assholes created a need for me.”

Trump kept referring to a secret military plan to defeat ISIS which he would only reveal after he was made president. This lie was almost cute, like when your boyfriend pretends he knew it was your birthday, or when Mike Huckabee’s son says, “The dog was ritually murdered this way when I found it!” But I don’t think Trump was lying! He really thought he had solved ISIS when his very good brain invented the “sneak attack.” Paradoxically, he knew it was brilliant, but also so obvious that the generals were stupid for not thinking of it. I know a lot of absurdity is getting thrown around in this article, but he actually said that, and Mike Huckabee’s son actually murdered a dog. And Trump’s proctologist absolutely adds buttholes to all flesh he touches. It happens so often that he’s stopped apologizing for it.

From what I can tell, the rest of Trump’s military tactics are made up entirely of war crimes. One morning, convicted fraudster Donald Trump called in to a talk show to suggest we kill the families of terrorists. In one of his first executive briefings, he asked three times why we can’t use nuclear weapons if we have them. That’s his understanding of modern warfare — he thinks all the bad people travel in one bombable group, moving to a new town every time the guileless United States military announces it’s coming. Which means their only weakness is the first president with enough balls to instantly and without warning murder their children. It’s weird, because most clinical sociopaths know that in order to blend in, they’re at least supposed to pretend human life has value.

Trump sounds like a guy who had atomic bombs explained to him by an ill-advised puppet show, but he assured us that “There’s nobody that understands the horrors of nuclear better than me.” How deep does our president’s record-breaking understanding of the horror of nuclear go? Well, in the most aggressively uninformed statement ever made by a dumbest man in the room, he told reporters, “You know what uranium is, right? It’s this thing called nuclear weapons. And other things. Like, lots of things are done with uranium. Including some bad things.”

Those words came out of his mouth. After bragging about being the leading nuclear mind on the planet! No, you don’t get it. You, me, all of us, we now live in a world where anything can happen. Our president, the PRESIDENT, knows three war things — sneak attacks are surprise, nuclear is some bad things, nothing fucking else — and with all his heart, he believes he is a military genius. And we, the people who all knew at least those same things, believed him! We put him in charge of the military! You can absolutely fuck off if that doesn’t prove magic is real.

There’s a soothing belief among the unskilled and dumb that every issue is simple and knowledge is a pointless endeavor. A Pure Intellect Untainted by Expertise thinks they have a refreshing outsider’s take on every issue. They say things like “Hollywood should only make daring, original films” or “The cure for the obesity epidemic is fucking eating less” or “Have depressed people tried not being sad?” Everything is so easy to solve if you stop ignoring the obvious answer!

There is a lot of appeal in thinking any of the world’s problems can be fixed with your no-nonsense telling it like it is. In fact, our movies and TV shows cater to it. They manufacture situations in which the obvious solution is ignored until the doofus character suggests an extremely common-sense idea. The others say something like “My- my God, it’s so simple it’s brilliant!” If you’re dumb enough, it feels like they’re talking to you! Let me give you an example.

Remember in Top Gun, when Maverick is being chased by an enemy jet through the danger zone? He’s going to die if he can’t get behind them, but how? Easy: He’s going to slam on the brakes, and they will fly right by. No one in the movie can believe it. That shit isn’t in the Pilot Rulebook, Maverick! But rules and pilots will never replace raw street smarts like the kind you and Maverick have. Personally, I’m so street smart that I don’t even wonder how the jet already had brakes if Maverick was the first guy to invent the idea of slowing down a jet with jet brakes. I’m so street smart that I would have thrown a bowling ball out the window and said “She broke my heart too, pal!” as it smashed into the enemy pilot’s chest, making a perfect comedic callback to earlier, when I was having sex with that bowling ball.

Here’s an example from a movie that isn’t 31 years old:

Have you ever noticed how in sports movies, there’s always a wildcard character who ends up being the best at the sport because they’ve never heard of it? They hit the golf ball or kick the football furthest because they haven’t cluttered their brain with pointless “knowledge.” Or maybe they’re unstoppable at basketball because they’re a caveman, or a dog. If you’re fetally alcoholed enough, these movies send a truly comforting message: Your lack of knowledge is specifically what will make you great at things. And think of how many things you don’t know how to do. But not too hard; you don’t want to accidentally understand anything so well that you become bad at it, like George Lucas did with Star Wars or Gamergate did with women.

Helping Understand Pure Intellects Untainted By Expertise With Stupid President Donald Trump

Knowing nothing about how to do something but also being the only one who can do it is Donald Trump’s defining philosophy. He went into his campaign telling everyone how he knew nothing about politics, and that’s virtually the only thing he didn’t lie about. But of all his shortcomings, nothing demonstrates a Pure Intellect Untainted by Expertise as much as his stupid fucking Mexico WALL.

To think a wall is the solution to drugs, illegal immigration, or human trafficking requires a spectacular lack of knowledge. You have to carefully not read the first sentence of the first Google result on any of the issues. Most undocumented immigrants arrive legally and overstay their visas. Nothing has stopped drugs ever. I don’t have all the stats on human trafficking, but every Staples I called said that they haven’t printed an unusually high number of SEX SLAVE LIQUIDATION SALE signs since Trump announced he wanted a fence.

I’m already attacking the problem with facts, and our president wouldn’t know a fact if it unraveled his combover and rappelled down Trump Tower. A human should know a wall wouldn’t work simply by remembering what they know about walls. And since we live in an amazing time when anything can happen, we’ve actually witnessed Donald Trump accidentally think too hard about his wall and figure out that it wouldn’t work.

In November of last year, Trump was explaining walls to a crowd. He reassured them that no one could scale his wall by saying, “There’s no ladder going over there.” He then took a long, silent thought … maybe to consider whether Mexicans have ladder technology? He caveated, “If they ever get up there, they’re in trouble, ’cause there’s no way to get down.” Still deep in thought, he added, “… maybe a rope.” And with that, he debunked his own fence, almost a year ago, by inadvertently thinking about it for just the smallest amount of time.

Since then, it seems like any time Trump talks about the subject for too long, he’ll remember another way to defeat a wall and have to add a feature. He once remembered that you can dig under walls, so he added special vibration-sensing anti-tunnel technology. He once misunderstood what someone meant by the word “transparent,” and insisted that yeah, it was important to make the wall transparent so you can see the giant bags of drugs falling over it. And when he remembered that hammers can smash through walls, he suggested we fill it with, no bullshit, nuclear waste. There was also some talk of solar panels and a railroad. So now this thing senses vibrations (except for its own railroad), is climb-proof, is immune to everything but rope, and they’re going to fill it with nuclear waste, which you can see because the wall is transparent. Also it’s made of solar panels. So maybe this is an example of how knowing nothing about a thing sometimes can make you the best at it. Because Trump knows less about walls than a free-range chicken’s limitless dreams, and he somehow designed the sweetest goddamn wall in the world.

The Determined Fool decided many years ago that they were extremely correct about something. Maybe they picked a political party, or a video game console, or the concept of snakes as pets. Whatever it was, they went about building their identity around the simple, unquestionable truth of that thing’s supremacy. Since absolute certainty is a trait shared only by the very stupid, it turns out they were wrong. About everything. The alien-worshiping religion or the perpetually sued president they chose did not in fact end man’s quest for universal truth. So now their life is devoted to developing the insanities necessary to keep their minds from noticing their mistake.

The human brain is an amazing organ. It can keep the Determined Fool ignorant even in the face of overwhelming education. In fact, proving to a Determined Fool how they are wrong usually only makes them more wrong. But who am I to say what’s real? Our perception is just the interface we use to interpret a Universe of unknown wonders. I think it was Guy Fieri who once honked the horn on his top-down Chevelle and screamed, “Truth is a fleeting concept, like a slippery dildo in a dildo sweepstakes booth, weeknights at 8 on the Food Network!”

I found this image in a folder called DRUNK PHOTOSHOP and thought “I’ll never find a place for whatever this is, drunk me.” In your face, sober me.

No one has a handle on truth, but 2,300 years ago, Aristotle said that the best truth is usually the one balanced between two extremes. So how are the most extreme people always the most sure they’re right? It’s been a dumb thing to think since they literally fucking invented how to think. Completely unaware of this, the Determined Fool starts political wars from indefensible positions like “trickle-down economics” or “Let’s hear these Nazis out.” Luckily, they have an arsenal of behavioral problems and logical fallacies to help them move out of any checkmate. For instance, maybe you decided you support Trump because he’s a great businessman who tells it like it is. Fine. So you bought a little hat, masturbated to a picture of the nude first lady, and warned the Muslim in your building that Sharia law is no longer welcome in America. You’re just the worst. A true piece of shit, like back when America was great.

Then you read an article about how Trump has failed in every business he ever started, sometimes intentionally to launder Russian mafia money. And it turns out his immigration policy is just something called “racial intolerance.” Also, you find a study revealing that more than 80 percent of the things Trump says are wrong — sometimes from dishonesty, but often from weirdly comprehensive dumbness. Oh man, this Trump guy? I think you really blew it. I wrote an online quiz that might help you understand.

So what are you supposed to do now? Get a refund for your hat? Apologize to the Muslim in your building who turned out to be something called “a Sikh”? Why bother? There are no consequences for anything, and your garbage brain can easily convince itself the media was lying. Plus, history eventually proves all racists to be right about daughter-killing immigrants, which because of Sharia law is perfectly legal in your Muslim neighbor’s apartment. And with those simple mental gymnastics, boom, America is great again.

Neuroscientists call this type of nimble stupidity “cognitive dissonance,” but I’m not a neuroscientist. I’m a man who types things like “a shrieking Guy Fieri trying to justify an all-rib diet to his own hickory-smoked diarrhea.” That’s what the Determined Fool is: someone bursting with shit who would rather pitch you on a world of diarrhea fountains than deal with their own problems.

Man invented the scientific method 400 years ago, when Galileo thought to sometimes ask, “What if we’re wrong about this?” They teach it to third-graders. So try to remember this: Every single time you’re 100 percent convinced you’re right, you’re dumber than a 17th-century leech farmer or an eight-year-old C student. Even if you turn out to be right. You hopeless, self-brainwashing diarrhea fountain salesman.

Helping Understand Determined Fools With Stupid President Donald Trump

Not all Determined Fools have minds elastic enough for cognitive dissonance. In order to hang onto their harmful, evil, self-destructive, or otherwise dumbass beliefs, some have to resort to false equivalencies. Like when Trump was asked how he feels about Putin being a killer, and he said, “So what? Other people are killers too!” That’s how seductive false equivalencies can be to a simple mind. These fucks end up arguing FOR murder and FOR Nazis, and they think they’re making, like, a point?

Since basic human decency is now a political issue, some of you were already thinking “THE LEFT DOES IT TOO!” Sure, buddy. There are other things wrong in the world besides murder and Nazis. For example, your mother’s footjob game. And sure, for every ten Gamergaters threatening to kill a girl for abiding a black Human Torch, there is a Twitter warrior who chose to support feminism with an overly harsh meme. But sanctimonious heroism isn’t anything like being a Nazi. And nothing any Democrat will ever do is similar to bragging about grabbing pussies while you’re married to a model you bought from Slovenia. If you’re confused, always remember: When two things are described with different words and have different meanings, they aren’t the same. You don’t get to lie and murder and be Kenyan just because Obama does it too.

When your world is built on top of something as flaky as religion or politics, it’s exhausting. You have to defend nonsense all day because you don’t know which crack in your foundation will require you to rebuild your entire belief system. That’s a ton of work. I still convince myself electronic music is fun because it’s easier than developing rhythm. People still chase children with knives because it’s faster than explaining why they became a clown. But if your beliefs are so flimsy that they shatter as soon as you admit a mistake, let them shatter. You can rebuild a far superior personality and system of values with a single episode of Super Friends.

What if I told you that television shows were dangerous? It’s true. In the year 2000, four out of every five injuries occurred in a home that owned a VHS copy of Robocop III. Someone might say, “That’s compelling Robocorrelation, but that data alone does not suggest Robocausation.” Fine. But maybe your first instinct was to say, “Robocop III is a movie, not a TV show, you fucking dumbass.” If so, then congratulations, idiot, you’re a Technical Genius. You’re smart enough to spot a technicality, but too dumb to know everyone else did too and it was light years away from the point. You’re the kind of person who tells your doctor, “Um, it’s Chief Chirpa?” when he tells you that getting the Wicket doll out of your asshole will require surgery. “And, um,” you’ll add, “it’s an action figure? Maybe you should have gone to a non-stupid medical school.”

The nice thing about being a Technical Genius is that it feels like proof you’re smarter than everyone. They can say you don’t “get it” all day, but they’re the imbeciles who think Robocop III is a TV show. Look at it like this: You are the only one in the history of Koala Times Bus Tours to contract syphilis from a koala bite. You might be embarrassed, but at least you aren’t like those other fools screaming “Don’t touch the koala bears!” when they are in fact marsupials. I mean, if koalas were actual bears, your whole face would be missing, not still here and covered in pulsing chancres.

Technical Geniuses reach maximum annoying when they decide that pointing out technicalities is a sense of humor. For instance, if you announced, “My wife is pregnant and we’re having a boy,” a Technical Genius might quip, “Well, technically only women can have babies. Unless you count the Chief Chirpa action figure currently breaching my anus — um, which you should, since it is the dictionary definition. Heard of it? Hey, everyone! This idiot with no dictionary is watching me shit out a Chief Chirpa, and he doesn’t even know which gender gives birth!”

Technical Geniuses have such a rigid understanding of the rules of language that they miss the meaning behind words. They mistake sarcasm for a mistake that needs correcting. Their idea of wordplay is assuming you meant the wrong homonym, which makes them both a walking Family Circus cartoon and the person condescendingly explaining to the Family Circus characters how “cool” may sometimes refer to “tubular” instead of temperature. And god help you if you get into a written discussion with them, as the tiniest typo can turn even the most important debate into a fourth-grade grammar lesson. They’d rather tell you that “non whites” should have a hyphen rather than agree that killing them is wrong.

For the most part, the Technical Genius just derails conversations with unlikeability. But their fierce misunderstanding of unspoken rules can lead to problems way more serious. You know what happens when you can’t see past the immediate and literal meaning of words? Well, I’ll show you. It’s technically unfair how there’s no “White” History Month or “White” Entertainment Television, right? And fine, black lives matter, but isn’t it MORE loving and accepting to say that ALL lives matter? See? I’m only two sentences into my life as a Technical Genius, and I’ve already talked myself into racism. All it took was the limited observation skills of a bad ’90s standup routine with the deliberate cultural ignorance of a bad ’90s standup routine.

Remember when that panty-dropper at Google got fired for writing, word-for-word, how women aren’t good at robots because of their emotions and milk-squirting nipples? That guy was absolutely a Technical Genius. Men and women are different, sure, but if you’re either of those things, you already knew that. You also might know how, almost always, these differences aren’t worth mentioning and vary from person to person. Yes, a woman is a bad hire if you need someone to stand next to a wolf for 29 days without bleeding. But even as someone who’s not a wolf scientist, I can think of a few workarounds: wolf nose plugs, baking soda underpants, menopause, chaining the wolf out of vagina-biting range … are we sure we even need to fill this standing-near-a-wolf position? See, this is how a healthy mind operates — it solves problems, asks questions, and keeps ladies safe from crotch-biting predators because it’s the right thing to do. A Technical Genius makes a short-sighted, clumsy observation and acts like they put all reason in checkmate. You know who could explain this better than me? The outrageously bad con man the worst 20 percent of our population voted into the White House.

Helping Understand Technical Geniuses With Stupid President Donald Trump

This is a classic example of a Technical Genius. To this dumbshit, it seems like he’s turned the tables on the entire concept of racial oppression. He raises the same point made by most clueless fucks on their first day of imaginary struggle: “How come whites can’t do one of the things blacks do? Isn’t that the REAL persecution?” It’s worse than ignorant. It’s the kind of childlike question you might ask the Star Trek crew if you’re a checkerboarded alien who knows nothing of their world’s Ray Sizzum.

There are different rules, unspoken or not, for every caste, race, and gender. You have to play some pretty intense make-believe to say you don’t know that. And only the dimmest, pussiest of white people invent their own oppression, like not being allowed to say “Merry Christmas” or “the N-word.” I’m not either, but I bet white billionaires have different troubles than the characters on Black-ish, and it seems impossible that Donald Trump hasn’t had this explained to him by Omarosa’s hairdresser many times.

The things Technical Geniuses say are often so frustratingly wrong but also “not wrong” that they act as traps. Your every instinct is to add context to them, but don’t — you will only become them. Look again at our evil president’s “Black-ish” tweet. You might feel the urge to correct the five grammatical mistakes he made in its three sentences, but any decent person should feel compelled as fuck to explain just the most basic, introductory concepts of race to him. This grown man thinks that the unfairness of having a show called Black-ish when there’s not one called “Whiteish” is “racism at highest level.” That means you have to start your explanation with “Um, have you heard of a little thing called slavery?” And look what’s happened. You’re the one saying dumb, obvious shit now.

Sometimes a stupid person starts to figure out that their brain doesn’t work as well as everyone else’s. Maybe they looked around their home and realized they only owned books by Ann Coulter on how to identify different Asians by which part of the human they eat. Or maybe they watch The Big Bang Theory, which for eight seasons has just been Jim Parsons staring directly into a camera and repeating “You are an idiot ape. You are a mindless sack of tepid water.” It’s true, Big Bang Theory viewers, and I’m the only one with the courage to say it.

Discovering your own intellectual shortcomings is terrifying, especially for the insecure. So some of them create a new reality, one with rules carefully constructed to make them brilliant. The disorder starts simply enough. Your friend tells you that birthday meals are free at any restaurant if you tell them you’re a registered sex offender. Later, Yahoo Answers tells you that impersonating a sex offender is not technically a crime. Later still, in jail, you decide you hate being tricked. They become the Untrickable.

The Untrickable believes that not being fooled is the pickle of human intelligence, but we assume they mean pinnacle. For a person to avoid being fooled, they need deep, multi-dimensional knowledge. Luckily, there is a shortcut: Assume everything is trying to fool you. Assume every video you watch is fake, and use that single word to describe each of them in the comments section. You’ll find that not only do you suddenly feel smart, but you’re also significantly smarter than anyone who has ever believed in “God” or “science” or “Guy Fieri not being a toilet brush brought to life by a lonely plumber’s wish.”

There’s only one problem with this: When everything is fake, nothing is. You start solving mundane mysteries with “ghosts.” Lizard men infiltrating a Target becomes exactly as likely as non-lizards asking you to leave for trying to pull human masks off the customers. The flatness of the Earth becomes a frustrating reminder of how no one else is smart enough to see through the lies of Big Fact. Luckily, our president is 100 percent immune to the lies of Big Fact.

Helping Understand The Untrickables With Extremely Never-Tricked President Donald Trump

Trump has the unique mix of confidence, paranoia, and ignorance that creates a perfectly untrickable person. He thinks global warming, a savagely obvious thing only one political party in one of the world’s countries isn’t aware of, is a scheme to undermine America’s industry. He thinks the same thing about the Paris Climate Accords and regulations against dumping coal sludge into drinking water. It would take two minutes to teach a six-year-old Honduran immigrant the English necessary to teach Donald Trump why he’s wrong about any of these things. Which would, at best, lead to a tweet claiming that Mexican children are a scheme to destroy America’s industry.

Special thanks to Aaron Clode for the custom illustrations.

Seanbaby invented being funny on the internet. You can follow him on Twitter, or play his hit mobile game Calculords.

Not sure if you’re stupid? Smack yourself in the head with these giant mallets until you know for certain.

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The 5 Stupidest People On The Planet (Are All Donald Trump)

How many times are you allowed to say or do something stupid before you realize you yourself are stupid? Seven times? 24? Butts? Rush Limbaugh has been wrong about 270 things a day for 40 years, and he would be truly shocked to learn he’s stupid. We aren’t good at spotting our own intellectual limitations. We walk around thinking we’re brilliant, no matter how many times we get our head stuck in an alligator or our genitals stuck in an alligator. I can prove it: I think I’m smart enough to write an article on intelligence, and the only book I’ve read is the movie Bloodsport. I also recently typed the number butts. Twice. Hold on, butts times now.

The cluelessly stupid are a diverse and colorful community, but most of them fall into one of five distinct categories. I’ll include a famous example of each one, which may end up getting confusing, since our dumbfuck president is somehow the example for all five. So here is a list of dumb idiots, which is maybe the best idea I’ve had for an article since 8 Album Covers White People Could Never Pull Off or Your 3rd Grade Textbook, Only Written By Gary Busey. Here’s the book cover for when it inevitably gets adapted into national bestseller:

One last thing before we start. I imagine that some of you have already taken the idea of this article personally, and you’re keenly watching for any logical flaw, strawman fallacy, or typo which will allow you to dismiss me as a totally wrong hypocrite. If so, I have some bad news: You’re much dumber than you think, and this article is about you. And since you’re already in the comments section, the rest of this sentence is for everyone else: See if you can guess which entry that guy was!

We live in a world infested with experts — body language experts who speculate on handshake meanings, social media experts who tweet about Twitter to Twitterbots, romance experts who tell you how to fuck on a pizza*. There are no rules to declaring yourself an expert. And when you’re self-important enough to think universally shared experiences are yours alone, you become a Keeper of the Common Knowledge.

*Cheese-up, while generously fingering your lover’s pepperoni chakra. You’re welcome, couples.

A Keeper of the Common Knowledge can become a leading mind on a subject after a Wikipedia paragraph or a few hazy childhood memories. Here’s how it works: Every day, about 4,500 American tourists check into Paris hotels. After a few days of standard vacation packaging, they come home, and their barely noteworthy trip is only brought up every time France is mentioned for the rest of their lives. But for a Keeper of the Common Knowledge, those three days offered an insight into a culture so complete that they know the mysterious French people better than they know themselves.

A Keeper of Common Knowledge offers their wisdom when you need it least. They are bursting with things no person could possibly not know, and it spills out at the slightest relevance. They might insert themselves into a discussion about pro wrestling only to explain it’s fake. If you make eye contact with them at a buffet, they give conspiratorial advice, like how to pile the most expensive foods into little shrines honoring your victory over the restaurant. They interrupt movies to share arcane knowledge like how guns are quite noisy or hanging from a cliff makes your arms tired. They’re the kind of person who tells you not to use shampoo as a lubricant, as if they’re the inventor of making love to a bowling ball. Let me spend Valentine’s Day however I want, genius.

Helping Understand Keepers Of The Common Knowledge With Stupid President Donald Trump

Remember when Trump was always saying he was the best at military? That wasn’t a crafty lie to get the tank loader vote; he really thinks that. But why? How? He dodged military service with a note from his gynecologist, and the only book on war he’s read is a Hitler cat recipe book. Well, I’ve done my best to piece together how he came to think of himself as the greatest military mind of our time. It’s pretty amazing how many personality and mental disorders had to come together to make it happen. Keep in mind that I’m not a licensed doctor and can’t diagnose him. However, I do know that popular disabled impersonator Donald Trump has so much evil inside him that his proctologist’s ungloved fingers now add an anus to any flesh they touch. When Trump got an MRI, the computer just showed an image of his daughter squatting over Jesus Christ and peeing into his missing eyes. With that in mind, let’s examine the 4D chessboard the commander in chief calls his “very good brain.”

During the debates, Donald complained that George Patton was spinning in his grave because we announced we were going into Mosul. “Why not go in quiet?” he asked many times. It was most likely rhetorical, but also so ignorant that one moderator accidentally answered it for him. Also, Patton famously led an insane decoy army to distract the Nazis. Saying he’s spinning in his grave over someone being bold is like saying, “I didn’t even read the Netflix description of the movie about the guy I’m invoking” and then adding, “It is truly impossible to miss how terrible I am. I am a walking DO NOT IRON WHILE WEARING SHIRT label. People see me and wonder what helplessly uninformed assholes created a need for me.”

Trump kept referring to a secret military plan to defeat ISIS which he would only reveal after he was made president. This lie was almost cute, like when your boyfriend pretends he knew it was your birthday, or when Mike Huckabee’s son says, “The dog was ritually murdered this way when I found it!” But I don’t think Trump was lying! He really thought he had solved ISIS when his very good brain invented the “sneak attack.” Paradoxically, he knew it was brilliant, but also so obvious that the generals were stupid for not thinking of it. I know a lot of absurdity is getting thrown around in this article, but he actually said that, and Mike Huckabee’s son actually murdered a dog. And Trump’s proctologist absolutely adds buttholes to all flesh he touches. It happens so often that he’s stopped apologizing for it.

From what I can tell, the rest of Trump’s military tactics are made up entirely of war crimes. One morning, convicted fraudster Donald Trump called in to a talk show to suggest we kill the families of terrorists. In one of his first executive briefings, he asked three times why we can’t use nuclear weapons if we have them. That’s his understanding of modern warfare — he thinks all the bad people travel in one bombable group, moving to a new town every time the guileless United States military announces it’s coming. Which means their only weakness is the first president with enough balls to instantly and without warning murder their children. It’s weird, because most clinical sociopaths know that in order to blend in, they’re at least supposed to pretend human life has value.

Trump sounds like a guy who had atomic bombs explained to him by an ill-advised puppet show, but he assured us that “There’s nobody that understands the horrors of nuclear better than me.” How deep does our president’s record-breaking understanding of the horror of nuclear go? Well, in the most aggressively uninformed statement ever made by a dumbest man in the room, he told reporters, “You know what uranium is, right? It’s this thing called nuclear weapons. And other things. Like, lots of things are done with uranium. Including some bad things.”

Those words came out of his mouth. After bragging about being the leading nuclear mind on the planet! No, you don’t get it. You, me, all of us, we now live in a world where anything can happen. Our president, the PRESIDENT, knows three war things — sneak attacks are surprise, nuclear is some bad things, nothing fucking else — and with all his heart, he believes he is a military genius. And we, the people who all knew at least those same things, believed him! We put him in charge of the military! You can absolutely fuck off if that doesn’t prove magic is real.

There’s a soothing belief among the unskilled and dumb that every issue is simple and knowledge is a pointless endeavor. A Pure Intellect Untainted by Expertise thinks they have a refreshing outsider’s take on every issue. They say things like “Hollywood should only make daring, original films” or “The cure for the obesity epidemic is fucking eating less” or “Have depressed people tried not being sad?” Everything is so easy to solve if you stop ignoring the obvious answer!

There is a lot of appeal in thinking any of the world’s problems can be fixed with your no-nonsense telling it like it is. In fact, our movies and TV shows cater to it. They manufacture situations in which the obvious solution is ignored until the doofus character suggests an extremely common-sense idea. The others say something like “My- my God, it’s so simple it’s brilliant!” If you’re dumb enough, it feels like they’re talking to you! Let me give you an example.

Remember in Top Gun, when Maverick is being chased by an enemy jet through the danger zone? He’s going to die if he can’t get behind them, but how? Easy: He’s going to slam on the brakes, and they will fly right by. No one in the movie can believe it. That shit isn’t in the Pilot Rulebook, Maverick! But rules and pilots will never replace raw street smarts like the kind you and Maverick have. Personally, I’m so street smart that I don’t even wonder how the jet already had brakes if Maverick was the first guy to invent the idea of slowing down a jet with jet brakes. I’m so street smart that I would have thrown a bowling ball out the window and said “She broke my heart too, pal!” as it smashed into the enemy pilot’s chest, making a perfect comedic callback to earlier, when I was having sex with that bowling ball.

Here’s an example from a movie that isn’t 31 years old:

Have you ever noticed how in sports movies, there’s always a wildcard character who ends up being the best at the sport because they’ve never heard of it? They hit the golf ball or kick the football furthest because they haven’t cluttered their brain with pointless “knowledge.” Or maybe they’re unstoppable at basketball because they’re a caveman, or a dog. If you’re fetally alcoholed enough, these movies send a truly comforting message: Your lack of knowledge is specifically what will make you great at things. And think of how many things you don’t know how to do. But not too hard; you don’t want to accidentally understand anything so well that you become bad at it, like George Lucas did with Star Wars or Gamergate did with women.

Helping Understand Pure Intellects Untainted By Expertise With Stupid President Donald Trump

Knowing nothing about how to do something but also being the only one who can do it is Donald Trump’s defining philosophy. He went into his campaign telling everyone how he knew nothing about politics, and that’s virtually the only thing he didn’t lie about. But of all his shortcomings, nothing demonstrates a Pure Intellect Untainted by Expertise as much as his stupid fucking Mexico WALL.

To think a wall is the solution to drugs, illegal immigration, or human trafficking requires a spectacular lack of knowledge. You have to carefully not read the first sentence of the first Google result on any of the issues. Most undocumented immigrants arrive legally and overstay their visas. Nothing has stopped drugs ever. I don’t have all the stats on human trafficking, but every Staples I called said that they haven’t printed an unusually high number of SEX SLAVE LIQUIDATION SALE signs since Trump announced he wanted a fence.

I’m already attacking the problem with facts, and our president wouldn’t know a fact if it unraveled his combover and rappelled down Trump Tower. A human should know a wall wouldn’t work simply by remembering what they know about walls. And since we live in an amazing time when anything can happen, we’ve actually witnessed Donald Trump accidentally think too hard about his wall and figure out that it wouldn’t work.

In November of last year, Trump was explaining walls to a crowd. He reassured them that no one could scale his wall by saying, “There’s no ladder going over there.” He then took a long, silent thought … maybe to consider whether Mexicans have ladder technology? He caveated, “If they ever get up there, they’re in trouble, ’cause there’s no way to get down.” Still deep in thought, he added, “… maybe a rope.” And with that, he debunked his own fence, almost a year ago, by inadvertently thinking about it for just the smallest amount of time.

Since then, it seems like any time Trump talks about the subject for too long, he’ll remember another way to defeat a wall and have to add a feature. He once remembered that you can dig under walls, so he added special vibration-sensing anti-tunnel technology. He once misunderstood what someone meant by the word “transparent,” and insisted that yeah, it was important to make the wall transparent so you can see the giant bags of drugs falling over it. And when he remembered that hammers can smash through walls, he suggested we fill it with, no bullshit, nuclear waste. There was also some talk of solar panels and a railroad. So now this thing senses vibrations (except for its own railroad), is climb-proof, is immune to everything but rope, and they’re going to fill it with nuclear waste, which you can see because the wall is transparent. Also it’s made of solar panels. So maybe this is an example of how knowing nothing about a thing sometimes can make you the best at it. Because Trump knows less about walls than a free-range chicken’s limitless dreams, and he somehow designed the sweetest goddamn wall in the world.

The Determined Fool decided many years ago that they were extremely correct about something. Maybe they picked a political party, or a video game console, or the concept of snakes as pets. Whatever it was, they went about building their identity around the simple, unquestionable truth of that thing’s supremacy. Since absolute certainty is a trait shared only by the very stupid, it turns out they were wrong. About everything. The alien-worshiping religion or the perpetually sued president they chose did not in fact end man’s quest for universal truth. So now their life is devoted to developing the insanities necessary to keep their minds from noticing their mistake.

The human brain is an amazing organ. It can keep the Determined Fool ignorant even in the face of overwhelming education. In fact, proving to a Determined Fool how they are wrong usually only makes them more wrong. But who am I to say what’s real? Our perception is just the interface we use to interpret a Universe of unknown wonders. I think it was Guy Fieri who once honked the horn on his top-down Chevelle and screamed, “Truth is a fleeting concept, like a slippery dildo in a dildo sweepstakes booth, weeknights at 8 on the Food Network!”

I found this image in a folder called DRUNK PHOTOSHOP and thought “I’ll never find a place for whatever this is, drunk me.” In your face, sober me.

No one has a handle on truth, but 2,300 years ago, Aristotle said that the best truth is usually the one balanced between two extremes. So how are the most extreme people always the most sure they’re right? It’s been a dumb thing to think since they literally fucking invented how to think. Completely unaware of this, the Determined Fool starts political wars from indefensible positions like “trickle-down economics” or “Let’s hear these Nazis out.” Luckily, they have an arsenal of behavioral problems and logical fallacies to help them move out of any checkmate. For instance, maybe you decided you support Trump because he’s a great businessman who tells it like it is. Fine. So you bought a little hat, masturbated to a picture of the nude first lady, and warned the Muslim in your building that Sharia law is no longer welcome in America. You’re just the worst. A true piece of shit, like back when America was great.

Then you read an article about how Trump has failed in every business he ever started, sometimes intentionally to launder Russian mafia money. And it turns out his immigration policy is just something called “racial intolerance.” Also, you find a study revealing that more than 80 percent of the things Trump says are wrong — sometimes from dishonesty, but often from weirdly comprehensive dumbness. Oh man, this Trump guy? I think you really blew it. I wrote an online quiz that might help you understand.

So what are you supposed to do now? Get a refund for your hat? Apologize to the Muslim in your building who turned out to be something called “a Sikh”? Why bother? There are no consequences for anything, and your garbage brain can easily convince itself the media was lying. Plus, history eventually proves all racists to be right about daughter-killing immigrants, which because of Sharia law is perfectly legal in your Muslim neighbor’s apartment. And with those simple mental gymnastics, boom, America is great again.

Neuroscientists call this type of nimble stupidity “cognitive dissonance,” but I’m not a neuroscientist. I’m a man who types things like “a shrieking Guy Fieri trying to justify an all-rib diet to his own hickory-smoked diarrhea.” That’s what the Determined Fool is: someone bursting with shit who would rather pitch you on a world of diarrhea fountains than deal with their own problems.

Man invented the scientific method 400 years ago, when Galileo thought to sometimes ask, “What if we’re wrong about this?” They teach it to third-graders. So try to remember this: Every single time you’re 100 percent convinced you’re right, you’re dumber than a 17th-century leech farmer or an eight-year-old C student. Even if you turn out to be right. You hopeless, self-brainwashing diarrhea fountain salesman.

Helping Understand Determined Fools With Stupid President Donald Trump

Not all Determined Fools have minds elastic enough for cognitive dissonance. In order to hang onto their harmful, evil, self-destructive, or otherwise dumbass beliefs, some have to resort to false equivalencies. Like when Trump was asked how he feels about Putin being a killer, and he said, “So what? Other people are killers too!” That’s how seductive false equivalencies can be to a simple mind. These fucks end up arguing FOR murder and FOR Nazis, and they think they’re making, like, a point?

Since basic human decency is now a political issue, some of you were already thinking “THE LEFT DOES IT TOO!” Sure, buddy. There are other things wrong in the world besides murder and Nazis. For example, your mother’s footjob game. And sure, for every ten Gamergaters threatening to kill a girl for abiding a black Human Torch, there is a Twitter warrior who chose to support feminism with an overly harsh meme. But sanctimonious heroism isn’t anything like being a Nazi. And nothing any Democrat will ever do is similar to bragging about grabbing pussies while you’re married to a model you bought from Slovenia. If you’re confused, always remember: When two things are described with different words and have different meanings, they aren’t the same. You don’t get to lie and murder and be Kenyan just because Obama does it too.

When your world is built on top of something as flaky as religion or politics, it’s exhausting. You have to defend nonsense all day because you don’t know which crack in your foundation will require you to rebuild your entire belief system. That’s a ton of work. I still convince myself electronic music is fun because it’s easier than developing rhythm. People still chase children with knives because it’s faster than explaining why they became a clown. But if your beliefs are so flimsy that they shatter as soon as you admit a mistake, let them shatter. You can rebuild a far superior personality and system of values with a single episode of Super Friends.

What if I told you that television shows were dangerous? It’s true. In the year 2000, four out of every five injuries occurred in a home that owned a VHS copy of Robocop III. Someone might say, “That’s compelling Robocorrelation, but that data alone does not suggest Robocausation.” Fine. But maybe your first instinct was to say, “Robocop III is a movie, not a TV show, you fucking dumbass.” If so, then congratulations, idiot, you’re a Technical Genius. You’re smart enough to spot a technicality, but too dumb to know everyone else did too and it was light years away from the point. You’re the kind of person who tells your doctor, “Um, it’s Chief Chirpa?” when he tells you that getting the Wicket doll out of your asshole will require surgery. “And, um,” you’ll add, “it’s an action figure? Maybe you should have gone to a non-stupid medical school.”

The nice thing about being a Technical Genius is that it feels like proof you’re smarter than everyone. They can say you don’t “get it” all day, but they’re the imbeciles who think Robocop III is a TV show. Look at it like this: You are the only one in the history of Koala Times Bus Tours to contract syphilis from a koala bite. You might be embarrassed, but at least you aren’t like those other fools screaming “Don’t touch the koala bears!” when they are in fact marsupials. I mean, if koalas were actual bears, your whole face would be missing, not still here and covered in pulsing chancres.

Technical Geniuses reach maximum annoying when they decide that pointing out technicalities is a sense of humor. For instance, if you announced, “My wife is pregnant and we’re having a boy,” a Technical Genius might quip, “Well, technically only women can have babies. Unless you count the Chief Chirpa action figure currently breaching my anus — um, which you should, since it is the dictionary definition. Heard of it? Hey, everyone! This idiot with no dictionary is watching me shit out a Chief Chirpa, and he doesn’t even know which gender gives birth!”

Technical Geniuses have such a rigid understanding of the rules of language that they miss the meaning behind words. They mistake sarcasm for a mistake that needs correcting. Their idea of wordplay is assuming you meant the wrong homonym, which makes them both a walking Family Circus cartoon and the person condescendingly explaining to the Family Circus characters how “cool” may sometimes refer to “tubular” instead of temperature. And god help you if you get into a written discussion with them, as the tiniest typo can turn even the most important debate into a fourth-grade grammar lesson. They’d rather tell you that “non whites” should have a hyphen rather than agree that killing them is wrong.

For the most part, the Technical Genius just derails conversations with unlikeability. But their fierce misunderstanding of unspoken rules can lead to problems way more serious. You know what happens when you can’t see past the immediate and literal meaning of words? Well, I’ll show you. It’s technically unfair how there’s no “White” History Month or “White” Entertainment Television, right? And fine, black lives matter, but isn’t it MORE loving and accepting to say that ALL lives matter? See? I’m only two sentences into my life as a Technical Genius, and I’ve already talked myself into racism. All it took was the limited observation skills of a bad ’90s standup routine with the deliberate cultural ignorance of a bad ’90s standup routine.

Remember when that panty-dropper at Google got fired for writing, word-for-word, how women aren’t good at robots because of their emotions and milk-squirting nipples? That guy was absolutely a Technical Genius. Men and women are different, sure, but if you’re either of those things, you already knew that. You also might know how, almost always, these differences aren’t worth mentioning and vary from person to person. Yes, a woman is a bad hire if you need someone to stand next to a wolf for 29 days without bleeding. But even as someone who’s not a wolf scientist, I can think of a few workarounds: wolf nose plugs, baking soda underpants, menopause, chaining the wolf out of vagina-biting range … are we sure we even need to fill this standing-near-a-wolf position? See, this is how a healthy mind operates — it solves problems, asks questions, and keeps ladies safe from crotch-biting predators because it’s the right thing to do. A Technical Genius makes a short-sighted, clumsy observation and acts like they put all reason in checkmate. You know who could explain this better than me? The outrageously bad con man the worst 20 percent of our population voted into the White House.

Helping Understand Technical Geniuses With Stupid President Donald Trump

This is a classic example of a Technical Genius. To this dumbshit, it seems like he’s turned the tables on the entire concept of racial oppression. He raises the same point made by most clueless fucks on their first day of imaginary struggle: “How come whites can’t do one of the things blacks do? Isn’t that the REAL persecution?” It’s worse than ignorant. It’s the kind of childlike question you might ask the Star Trek crew if you’re a checkerboarded alien who knows nothing of their world’s Ray Sizzum.

There are different rules, unspoken or not, for every caste, race, and gender. You have to play some pretty intense make-believe to say you don’t know that. And only the dimmest, pussiest of white people invent their own oppression, like not being allowed to say “Merry Christmas” or “the N-word.” I’m not either, but I bet white billionaires have different troubles than the characters on Black-ish, and it seems impossible that Donald Trump hasn’t had this explained to him by Omarosa’s hairdresser many times.

The things Technical Geniuses say are often so frustratingly wrong but also “not wrong” that they act as traps. Your every instinct is to add context to them, but don’t — you will only become them. Look again at our evil president’s “Black-ish” tweet. You might feel the urge to correct the five grammatical mistakes he made in its three sentences, but any decent person should feel compelled as fuck to explain just the most basic, introductory concepts of race to him. This grown man thinks that the unfairness of having a show called Black-ish when there’s not one called “Whiteish” is “racism at highest level.” That means you have to start your explanation with “Um, have you heard of a little thing called slavery?” And look what’s happened. You’re the one saying dumb, obvious shit now.

Sometimes a stupid person starts to figure out that their brain doesn’t work as well as everyone else’s. Maybe they looked around their home and realized they only owned books by Ann Coulter on how to identify different Asians by which part of the human they eat. Or maybe they watch The Big Bang Theory, which for eight seasons has just been Jim Parsons staring directly into a camera and repeating “You are an idiot ape. You are a mindless sack of tepid water.” It’s true, Big Bang Theory viewers, and I’m the only one with the courage to say it.

Discovering your own intellectual shortcomings is terrifying, especially for the insecure. So some of them create a new reality, one with rules carefully constructed to make them brilliant. The disorder starts simply enough. Your friend tells you that birthday meals are free at any restaurant if you tell them you’re a registered sex offender. Later, Yahoo Answers tells you that impersonating a sex offender is not technically a crime. Later still, in jail, you decide you hate being tricked. They become the Untrickable.

The Untrickable believes that not being fooled is the pickle of human intelligence, but we assume they mean pinnacle. For a person to avoid being fooled, they need deep, multi-dimensional knowledge. Luckily, there is a shortcut: Assume everything is trying to fool you. Assume every video you watch is fake, and use that single word to describe each of them in the comments section. You’ll find that not only do you suddenly feel smart, but you’re also significantly smarter than anyone who has ever believed in “God” or “science” or “Guy Fieri not being a toilet brush brought to life by a lonely plumber’s wish.”

There’s only one problem with this: When everything is fake, nothing is. You start solving mundane mysteries with “ghosts.” Lizard men infiltrating a Target becomes exactly as likely as non-lizards asking you to leave for trying to pull human masks off the customers. The flatness of the Earth becomes a frustrating reminder of how no one else is smart enough to see through the lies of Big Fact. Luckily, our president is 100 percent immune to the lies of Big Fact.

Helping Understand The Untrickables With Extremely Never-Tricked President Donald Trump

Trump has the unique mix of confidence, paranoia, and ignorance that creates a perfectly untrickable person. He thinks global warming, a savagely obvious thing only one political party in one of the world’s countries isn’t aware of, is a scheme to undermine America’s industry. He thinks the same thing about the Paris Climate Accords and regulations against dumping coal sludge into drinking water. It would take two minutes to teach a six-year-old Honduran immigrant the English necessary to teach Donald Trump why he’s wrong about any of these things. Which would, at best, lead to a tweet claiming that Mexican children are a scheme to destroy America’s industry.

Special thanks to Aaron Clode for the custom illustrations.

Seanbaby invented being funny on the internet. You can follow him on Twitter, or play his hit mobile game Calculords.

Not sure if you’re stupid? Smack yourself in the head with these giant mallets until you know for certain.

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