#i cranked this out at 2 am once again. except now it’s almost 4

[decaysings]

heard it was yaoi day AND girlfriend day. you know what that means

[ID: heaven official’s blessing fanart of ming yi and shi qingxuan in their fem forms. ming yi looks at the viewer with a neutral expression. shi qingxuan cups her face and smiles, having left various lipstick marks on her lips, cheeks, and forehead. shi qingxuan has lipstick marks from ming yi on her lips and cheek. end ID]

[capricornus-rex]

The Haunt of Redemption (9)

Sequel to: A Path I Can’t Follow

Chapter 9: The Turn of the Tide | Cal Kestis x Reader

Summary: It has been months since your last encounter with Cal, at that time he was a fledgling Inquisitor. In an ironic twist of fate, you cross paths and blades with him once again, and he’s keen on turning you into an Inquisitor as well—unless you bring him back to the light first.

Tags: Dark Side! Cal Kestis, Inquisitor! Cal Kestis, Redemption Arc! Cal Kestis

Notes: YOU GUYS, I AM ALMOST DONE!!! AAAHHH ;;A;;

Also posted in AO3

Chapters: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 – 7 | Previous: Chapter 8 | Next: Chapter 10 | Masterlist

9 of 11

You afforded to regain your strength for the rest of the trip. The experience of being under the infliction of Cal’s Psychometry replayed over and over again in your body, certain sensations struck your nerves, the sharp pangs of the intrusive nature of his ability caused your heart to burst in between beats. The mental pain was so numbing and breathtaking, it was almost physical.

His words—the way he delivered them with his demanding tone—the expressions riddled with ulterior motives plastering his face flashed repeatedly before your eyes, and the way he looked at you was a confusing yet interesting medley of mercy and quiet sadism.

And yet, you still have the will to forgive him.

You lost track of how much time has passed since you were taken away from Alyon. While it would seem like you don’t have much time, your faith never wavered. However, you were also making peace with yourself should this be the day they bring you to the Dark Side or they die trying.

“Comfortable?” the Inquisitor declared during a visit in your cell.

“I’ve had better lodgings,” you blankly remarked. “Are you going to kill me when we arrive?”

“No,” he subtly shakes his head, you detect a twinge of mercy in his voice. “By the time you set foot in the fortress, you will become an Inquisitor—more powerful than any Jedi or Inquisitor.”

“That’s a delusion they sell to you, and you actually took the bait,”

Apparently, he refuses to be lectured, but you still kept going.

“A Jedi could never understand,” he concludes the exchange and leaves the cell.

The entire ship rumbled when its landing gears touched the hangar’s floor. Later, the Eleventh Brother comes into your cell alone to collect you. He unclips your lightsaber from your belt first before doing the restraints. He took a brief moment to gaze at you, before bending down to the floor. Your feet twitched when you felt his clutch around your leg. Surprisingly, he was gentle in dismantling the restraints around your ankles, and then he stood up to do the same around your wrists.

You rubbed away the chafe around your hands before the Eleventh Brother produced a set of cuffs and wore them on you.

“Of course, more restraints.” You blurted.

A humorless smile pursed his lips after hearing that comment. The both of you exited the cell and walked towards the entry ramp; the main door hissed as it unfolded and steam sputtered out of its hydraulics. The boy Inquisitor gingerly puts his hand on the small of your back—which made you flinch—and shepherded you out of the ship.

Both of you marched across the walkway into the fortress, flanked by the squad of Stormtroopers that accompanied him during your capture. It was a first for you to walk into the stronghold without having the need to infiltrate it. Your head tilted up, following the height of the fortress’s spire—it was mountainous in height as you walked. The hollow sound of metal clanging and lava bubbling were the noise in the background of this foreboding place.

An officer standing by the main entrance greeted them. The Inquisitor curtly acknowledged it, he turned to the Stormtroopers at the flank—ordering that only two of them to follow—and continued to escort you through the twists and turns inside. Eventually, the Inquisitor had brought you to the prison block—the layout was intricate, tiers upon tiers of cells arranged in orderly rows, it was like an insect hive except it housed prisoners for insidious purposes.

“Guards, I’ll take it from here,” the commanding, firm tone in his voice echoed in the sector. The Stormtroopers obliged and continued their patrolling in the block.

“In here,” the Inquisitor purred and nudged you to follow, his hand remained on your back.

The two of you disappeared into the elevator. Cal leaned against the wall at the back of the lift, arms crossed against one another, studying between the features inside the space and your side profile. The pungent musk of rainwater intruded the boy’s nostrils and memories briefly entered his mind—it was as if using Psychometry indirectly.

“Back at the beach, you said something,” you broke the silence.

“What is?” he responded nonchalantly, examining you from head to toe.

You turned around to face him, “That we always find our way back to each other. You said that in your recording too.”

“So, you’ve seen it,”

“I knew those words sounded familiar. That’s why I knew my Cal is still there.”

His eyelids dropped as he hung his head low, denying you a response.

“You just don’t realize you have the strength to acknowledge it,” you said before turning back to face the door.

“Oh, I do have the strength to acknowledge it,” he pushed himself away from the wall and towered next to you. “That Cal… is gone.”

His imposing stance didn’t intimidate you in the smallest bit; eyes of contrasting expressions loudly spoke with each other in the silent humming of the elevator.

“You once told me that we will always a choice. Are you sure this is yours?”

When you got no answer from that question, you return face to the door.

The elevator ceased to move, the floor beneath your feet briefly quaked, signaling your arrival to the designated floor. The door whizzed open, your breathing became shakier by the sight of the bridge leading to an apparent interrogation chamber.

Cal clutched your arm and led you out of the elevator with him. Your vision narrowed as you strode through the metal bridge. You have been keeping your cool since the trip, but now your shallow, rapid breathing betrayed the brave face you’ve put on. Stormtroopers stared at you when the two of you stopped by a checkpoint.

“Activate the bridge,” Cal commanded.

The Stormtrooper cranked a lever on his terminal and a bridge emerged to connect you to the chamber’s foyer.

“It’s ready, Eleventh Brother,” a Purge Trooper rifleman reported.

With a simple nod, every trooper stationed at the entrance of the chamber moved at the behest of the boy Inquisitor. The door rumbled at the push of a button and then it parted into four sides. Cal nudged you with his grip still around your arm, your feet dragged as he guided you up the set of stairs and into the actual chamber.

A trio of Stormtroopers and a pair of Purge Troopers followed into the chamber with you. A lone, silver contraption sat in the black midst, at its feet were the harsh crimson lights that colored the hydraulic steam that wafted about, and sparks flew out of the power cords that laced the walls. A uniformed officer was already inside the chamber preparing the terminal.

“It’s calibrated to the optimal setting, Eleventh Brother,”

“Good. Strap her in.”

Two Stormtroopers snatched you right up from Cal’s grasp and fixed you into the machine.

“Oh, wait.” Cal suddenly uttered and the Stormtroopers stopped in their tracks.

The Eleventh Brother lifted the back flap of your poncho and revealed BD-1 who has been hiding this whole time. For the first time ever, the little droid shied away from his second original owner.

“Don’t hurt him!” you barked.

“I won’t. Come on, BD,”

“If I find out you’re scrapping him for parts, I swear you’ll never hear the end of it!”

“Like that will ever happen,”

When the little droid isn’t budging, the young Inquisitor—with a sliver of compassion—handled BD by the head gently with his hand and unclamped the legs perched onto your jacket’s armor straps. As the droid was separated from you, his legs and antenna folded and then tucked his tiny body underneath his head; he was beeping in low, long tones—he was calling you for help, but he knew that he can’t break free from Cal’s grasp.

“I’m sorry, BD,”

“Wooo…!” the droid lowed as Cal’s finger found the switch.

“What are you doing!?” you glanced over your shoulder and watched Cal switch off BD, the little blue light in his scanner’s lens was fading away into the black glass. “BD-1!”

You saw the exact second where BD’s body went stiff as he was shut down. There wasn’t much you could do for him now. The Stormtroopers proceeded to bringing you to the contraption. Your steel restraints were replaced with cold, thick metal rings clasped around your wrists and ankles again as you lay your back flat against the contraption’s bed.

“Please, don’t hurt him!” you pleaded.

“No, he won’t get hurt…” Cal reassured, but suddenly a steely look pierced right at you. “But you will.”

A Purge Trooper stepped towards Cal to relay a report.

“Sir, he’s arrived.”

“Good. In the meantime, shall we give her a taste?”

That was a rhetoric. The Inquisitor nodded at the terminal operator and he turned the knob to give you a mild shock. It was a weak jolt enough to make you flinch and Cal made sure the next one will be much worse than the last. The operator flicked the knob to the succeeding notch, he’ll push the button at the order of the boy Inquisitor.

Meanwhile, the Grand Inquisitor’s shuttle arrived from an assignment in Malachor. The gaunt, dark figure marched through the hallways of the stronghold—everyone in his path gave way and gestured either salutes or brief bows, and he returned them with indifferent side glances as he walked by.

“Grand Inquisitor, the Eleventh Brother has returned with the Jedi girl who infiltrated the fortress before,” a Purge Trooper reports.

“Oh? And of the Holocron?”

“Uh…”

There was no answer that followed that question. The Grand Inquisitor picked up the hint that the boy wasn’t able to accomplish his true objective and instead followed his own. The Pau’an grumbled as he walked faster ahead of the Purge Trooper on the way to the specific interrogation chamber.

A distant echo of the elevator at the other side of the bridge signaled his arrival. The door whizzed and parted open, presenting the silhouette of the Grand Inquisitor. From your perspective, the figure was so tall that he covered the door frame from end to end. He stepped inside but remained within the shadows, a pair of amber eyes were the only things that stood out in the darkness.

“So, this is the ever-elusive Jedi. The crux of this wild goose chase,” the Grand Inquisitor hummed from where he stood.

You squint your eyes to make out his appearance: his eyebrows—or lack thereof—are in a perpetual furrow, two streaks tapered from his eyes and appeared like tears of blood staining his cheeks, and a piercing scowl from his golden eyes.

“Grand Inquisitor, I—”

Cal stepped closer to his mentor to report, he was caught off guard with the Grand Inquisitor struck the boy across his face with the back of his hand, the impact was snappy and you winced—as if feeling the sting of the slap on your own face. The Stormtroopers hid their reactions well behind their helmets, keeping their indifferent, emotionless demeanors.

“Foolish child!” the Grand Inquisitor roared, grabbing the boy by the collar of his uniform. “I tell you one thing expecting to have it done right. Have I not taught you common sense?! You replaced my one and only order with your own initiative!”

“Grand Inquisitor… I…” the boy gasped, “I can explain!”

“What then?!”

“She said she didn’t have it, but she’s opened the Holocron and saw its contents!”

“Are you absolutely sure?” the Pau’an growled, shaking the boy once more in his violent grasp.

“Yes!” Cal hissed, trying to match up to his master’s aggression.

The Grand Inquisitor’s features soften, he quickly shifted back to his calm demeanor. He carefully craned his neck towards the girl strapped to the silver machine.

“Hmm…” he grumbled.

He takes a second glance at the Eleventh Brother, his supposed protégé, and shoved the boy harshly to you.

“Make it as painful as you can. I know that is your specialty.” The Grand Inquisitor added.

The boy heeded his mentor’s request and took a deep breath. He pulled out his glove, a shaky hand closing in on you.

“Don’t…” you mouthed within his earshot, a noticeable teardrop twinkling at the edge of your eye.

He continued to bring his hand closer to you, his fingers brushed the threads of hair draping your sweat-covered forehead, and your cheek fitted just right in the center of his palm. You sensed that it pained him to do it—from the moment the Pau’an hit him on the face, you knew that he was acting out of fear in the guise of loyalty and obedience, it’s what the Grand Inquisitor wanted to establish in the first place.

The young Inquisitor focused hard, siphoning more thoughts and memories that he hasn’t fished out from the recesses of your subconscious. You shut your eyes as you fought him off in this mental tug-of-war. The more you backed away, the further he pushed on. It was more painful than it was the first time.

It felt like your brain bled as he sucked out whatever information he can take from you. The ripple of the dark side of the Force was hollow yet mind-numbing. You jerked and thrashed your head left and right, shaking off his influence but it found itself firmly clutching onto you—there seemed to be no escape.

“Cal… don’t…!” you began to screech in pain, he shushed you continuously, pressing his palm against your cheek further.

In your mind, he found that you’re building up a wall that he is constantly trying to break. You were denying him a glimpse of your mind but it was so exhausting, should you slip up in the slightest bit, then all of your efforts would be for naught.

“Don’t fight...” he whispered as he continued inflicting his Psychometry.

“I won’t let you…” you grunted.

It was a test of mental willpower. The desperate, young protégé pushed on, climbing on a wall that only seemed to get higher and higher; you were fighting back in your own way—subtle yet impactful, calm yet strong—and a voice kept speaking to you, although it uttered the very same words.

Guide those who are lost, the same way the Force guides you. Be their light when they can’t find any.

Instead of giving the boy Inquisitor what he wanted.

You gave him what he needed.

“Cal…” your lips barely moved, but he heard his name in that thin wisp of air that escaped your mouth. You slowly lifted your eyelids, his steely stare has softened into a tender, child-like gaze. “Find the light.”

For once, he felt the warmth that he yearned secretly—in the solace of his bedroom, in his lonesome amongst the Inquisitors in their common room, and even in his dreams—you gave him the one thing that he was deprived of all this time and couldn’t give it to himself.

Finally, you allowed him to steal a glimpse of what you have been holding in your mind. You tore down your walls and let him in. What he found were not answers—they were feelings and emotions, ones that he probably hasn’t felt a long while.

[wahbegan]

Blah Blah Trailer Things Blah I’m So Weary

All right w/e you’d think i was getting paid for this the way i crank them out even when I have no desire to but fuck it as all the ones before, under a read more so you don’t have to scroll and shit and so that if someone makes a super obvious correction in the first few notes i can change it and nobody will be the wiser tee hee hee I am gonna stick to things that haven’t been confirmed so shit we already know like “There are additional flashbacks to when they were kids, Mike still lives in Derry and has been tryna figure out how to kill It through...tripping, apparently? They meet at Jade of the Orient like in the book,” etc. I won’t touch for the sake of brevity. I also won’t go over things I did in the last one

1. The flood of water in the sewer COULD be right after they actually kill It, in the book they kill It in the early morning, and Its death coincides with a massive storm destroying the town, starting with the sewers flooding and backing up

2. Adrian Mellon, post beating and being thrown off a bridge by homophobes, as Pennywise mockingly offers him help before eating him. This is STRAIGHT out of the book, right down to the silver eyes Pennywise is sporting i’m very excited

3. Bev walking in the rain looking shaken up seems to be her right after having her fight her way out of her abusive boyfriend’s place, we know they’re keeping that intact courtesy of the bruises on her arms in the Mrs Kersh trailer

4. Not sure where Eddie’s standing in this child-to-adult montage, i can only guess that maybe Ben is outside that bar he gets shitfaced in before he goes back to Derry? But that’s a shot in the dark. I know Bill’s standing at the storm drain where Georgie got dragged in, which we saw It taunting him in Georgie form briefly in the last trailer, and Mike due to the area and the police lights on his face, seems to be investigating child murders like he was in the book. It’s what prompts him to call the other Losers. Richie is at the Paul Bunyan statue

5. So yeah the carnival seems to play a bigger role than just the backdrop where Adrian first has trouble with the homophobes like in the book, Bill probably follows a lead there, possibly investigating what happened to Adrian aaaaand finds Pennywise chewing down on some kid right behind a glass he can’t get to him from in a mirror maze, ostensibly just to fuck with him. Brutal and sadistic, i gotta say i love it even though it’s hard to analyze further than that since there isn’t anything even remotely analogous to this in the book. Oh, the little swinging punch clowns are done up like Tim Curry’s Pennywise, that’s a fun easter egg. Also Pennywise’s long tongue on the glass is reminiscent of The Leper’s tongue from the book, probably did that on purpose. 

6. Oh yeah confirmation Bowers is alive and in a mental hospital, and Pennywise is calling him back, apparently via red balloon instead of the moon which BOOOOOO but whatever

7. Since they changed it from the book a bit to revolve more heavily around Neibolt Street, that seems to have more prominence in this half of the movie as well, with lots of shots of them going into it, whereas I don’t think they touch it as adults in the book. I do like the fridge shaking like It’s about to come out of it like It did in the first movie to eat Eddie. Clearly lots of call backs so that’s fun. Actually, you know what? It could be Stan’s severed head with a bunch of balloons in there cause there’s a scene like that involving a (different) fridge in the adult half of the book/miniseries

EDIT: Okay, according to someone on youtube who saw Comic-Con footage, that IS the case damn i’m right once in a while except in this case Stan’s head...the youtube source didn’t say whose head it was but i’m...there’s no way it’s not Stan’s goes on to sprout spider legs and crawl at them a la The Thing so that’s pretty awesome

8. “I’ve seen all of us die” is an interesting line. Now, in the book, fUCKING STAN YOU FUCKING BASTARD ANDRES MUSCHIETTI YOU LITERALLY TOOK EVERYTHING FROM STAN AND GAVE IT TO A DIFF-ahem. Forgive that little outburst. In the book,...SSsss.....hrng. Stanley Uris is the one who seems to have visions or at least a sense of the future, not, Bev, as well as some vaguely defined psychic somethinerother. Obviously, her kidnapping slash Deadlighting slash empty eyes slash floating thing never happens in the book, so once again, no real way of knowing if it’s a Dr. Strange circa Infinity War thing where she saw a possible or a bunch of possible futures or just Pennywise fucking with her to make her feel hopeless thing. I mean obviously we know they don’t all die so i’m just curious about the nature of her vision she had in Its lair. Obviously some of it came to pass, but...i just don’t know if it was a vision from The Turtle or a trick from It, or possibly a little of both. But it’s one of those

9. Oh yeah right that....that’s definitely Stan’s death scene. Not that there was any question, really, but this is solid confirmation he takes a one way ticket out of Clowntown on the Razorblade-in-a-Bathtub Express

10. Oh I forgot to say about the alien-looking spikes i think that’s the blasted-up exploded remains of whatever it landed in just btw

11. Okay so Bill as an adult back in the basement with a screaming ghost Georgie confronting him in a very similar way to when he was a kid, Bev back in the bathroom where she got bullied and it seems like her childhood bathroom? Filling up with blood and...trying to help someone out of the blood lake? Okay.

I have a theory about all this.

I think it’s them interacting with their younger selves. I think.....

I think The Ritual of Chud is going to manifest differently for every single one of them, and it’s basically going to be them going to some mindscape where they go to their kid selves, to their worst and darkest moments, and are either trapped there in despair or have to save their younger selves. Think of The Haunting of Hill House’s Red Room. I THINK that’s what’s going on here. Judging by...I’m almost positive Bev is reaching out her hand to pull her younger self out of the blood, and you can see young Bill behind adult Bill in the background while Georgie’s going “what the FUCK you’re the worst brother EVER” at him so look i think i’m right, okay? 

12. When Bev smashes the mirror, it looks like, you know how in the first one Henry goes to carve his face on Ben’s stomach but only gets the H? In the book that scar disappears when he grows up but then comes back after Mike calls him and it looks here like not only has the scar come back but It has either actually cut the entire name down there or at least made him hallucinate that the entire name has appeared on his stomach. If I had to guess, I’d say it’s the latter, some kind of hallucination Bev’s trying to break by shattering the mirror.

13. Yeah so if you hadn’t read the book, that’s pretty much definitely Eddie Richie’s holding, and he’s pretty much definitely dying and his final words are pretty much definitely gonna be “Don’t call me Eds. You know I hate it when you...”

14. Oh yeah right I’m pretty sure the underwater monster is a more decayed Ms Kersh and it looks like instead of turning to candy, her house floods for some reason? And here she is being all spooky and underwater with Bev i do not know why the flooding is a thing but w/e uhhh look it’s not in the first trailer i don’t know where i think i saw this or how I got this impression but i think somewhere there was a brief shot implying the water like came out of a painting or something. Possibly a 1408 reference, actually

15. Gotta be Its lair disintegrating after the completed Ritual of Chud which yeah when they were all holding hands a few shots earlier and looking up at orange light i forgot to say that’s def the Ritual starting

17. Whoever this is, Bill i’m assuming flying through that tunnel to the rectangle of light is pretty close to straight out of the book Ritual of Chud

18. Mike tripping, as per mentioned

19. Given the shit all over them and how emotional Richie is, it seems like this would be at the end after they leave the sewers? Idk his scream could be about several things, but it’s just the kind of scream that says “my best friend in the whole wide world and completely hetero lifemate just got his arm bitten off by a weird giant spider alien thing and bled to death”

20. Andres Muschietti mentioned the underground clubhouse would be part of this movie, as well as the “tripping and coming dangerously close to dying via carbon monoxide poisoning so we can hallucinate about where It came from” part of the book but at the end Pennywise is clearly slamming the door which wasn’t part of that sequence unless i mean they may have just added it in for a scare or it could be one of the adults going back to said clubhouse and having a flashback leading into Pennywise fucking with them, either is a possibility

21. Okay so unfortunately i have egg on my face and this clearly is It (not Henry Bowers like i theorized) previously not in Pennywise form, putting on Its Pennywise form, possibly for the first time in a flashback.

22. Okay i am almost 100% sure Pennywise, Devourer of Worlds and Children, The Spider, The Deadlights, The Eternal Consumption, ends this trailer by saying “Hewwo”

[befitnesshub1]

5 Best Ground Venison Recipes That Everyone Can Cook At Home

Venison is deer meat, as almost everyone knows, but it is also meat from elk, antelope, moose, reindeer and caribou. Currently, the white-tailed deer is the most hunted and ground venison recipes are very famous in United States.

The most common sight in the markets is the South Texas Antelope, which lives in the foothills of the Himalayas. The antelope was brought to Texas a few decades ago, and now live on the Ranch of King Ranch in South Texas, the country’s largest ranch. Large livestock are regularly slaughtered from livestock. They produce very lean meat that tastes a bit like veal.

Venison has very little fat, so you need to make some simple adjustments to the way you would usually cook beef, pork or a variety of other home-made meats.

When you’re broiling a cut of choice like tender venison or backstrap or filling the grill, cook the meat faster using more heat, then you’ll usually do with the meat. What you want to accomplish is to explore the outside of the deer, while keeping the inside rarely rare or medium. Basket the surface regularly while cooking, and let it rest for about 5 minutes after you take it out of the heat. Cut the cooked meat in front of the cereal.

Cooking venison’s fewer tender cuts should be done by moisture, either by stewing or braising. Make sure and give you more time for cooking than you normally would for beef or other meats.

If the venison you are preparing is frozen, melt it in red wine or buttermilk, one of the recipes you are using works even better. This helps to take some of the liquid meat “funny”, giving it a less harsh taste.

Most hunters will grind all their ground venison recipes, sausage, hamburger or chili meat except for backstrap and round steak. This is because other slices of meat are a little stiffer or harder to cook whole.

When cooking ground Venetian patties, brown them quickly in a frying pan over high heat, then reduce the heat. Add a little red wine or beef stock to the pan, and cook through a venison burger until rare, covered.

Do not leave the cooked deer in the air for a long time. If you don’t serve it right now, wrap it in foil before serving. Then cut it before serving.

Searching for ground venison recipes? We offer ideas for cooking venison. You will be eating the best venison you can imagine!

Venison Hamburgers

For comparison, 1 serving (72%) of ground beef lean has 248 calories, 18 grams of fat and 77 grams of cholesterol. The same serving of venison has 157 calories, 7 grams of fat and 80 milligrams of cholesterol. I’ll take Venice!

That sounds pretty cool, though some skeptics would be quick to say that when you cook your hamburger you need to add deer fat to stay with the meat. Many Venison Cooks suggest adding 1 part ground beef or pork to 2 parts deer. You can do this, and it will still be more nutritious than meat. But we have found that it is not necessary. One teaspoon of olive oil to 1 pound of venison also works, adding only 20 calories to your burger. I’ve also used diced onions in the meat, which doesn’t add anything.

With deer hamburgers you can do a lot. Our basic dish recipe is a great standby. You just mix 1 pound of ground venison, 1 tbs of oil, 1 tsp Worcestershire sauce, and salt and pepper to taste. Form into patties, sprinkle with nonstick spray and cook.

5 Ground Venison Recipes

Burgers:

The Venison burgers are amazing, and they are very thin and healthy. Roasted, stuffed, with cheese or out. It’s all good. So if you don’t have a meat grinder, invest in one. We use the attachment with our standing mixer. I usually add a little olive oil and some Worcestershire sauce to the ground meat so that the patties don’t separate on the grill. You can also tie the meat with chopped onions or bread crumbs.

Related post: 10 Substitute For Mushrooms For Kitchen Recipes

Salt Roast:

Salted Roast is one of most favorite Ground Venison Recipes. Get a 5lb bag of course salt and steam in the oven. Nice. Just mix a little water in the salt, put a roasting in a deep roasting pan, and cover it with the salt mixture. As the salt hardens, it traps the steam. This keeps the meat tender and tastes perfect. Cook on a very low temperate. We cook a typical 4lb roast at 200 for about 4 hours. Use a meat thermometer to make sure you don’t cook it. Grate salt and serve.

Kabobs:

Cut your meat into 2-inch cubes and cut into olive oil, lime juice and cilantro for about 1/2 hour. Place the meat on the skewers, add the onion or pepper if desired. Grill for 3 to 5 minutes on each side. They are so delicious!

Grilled Strips:

Cut the meat into strips and brush with olive oil and ground pepper. Grill for about 1 to 2 minutes per side. These grilled strips are terrific on salads.

Pizza:

Brown ground venison recipes with olive oil, basil and a small portion of garlic powder. Buy pre-made pizza crust and sauces, cheeses and toppings of your choice. The deer on the pizza is a nice change of pace in the Peroni or sausage. I like to use pesto as my sauce for speed change.

Eating venison does not mean eating the same boring dishes. Be creative and have fun in the kitchen.

Venison Sausage Making

These are simple steps that anyone can follow, with minimal preparation to start your own culinary adventure of making venison and hamburgers. Filling sausages in skins to make link sausage is not a recommended recommendation for a beginner. Once you have finished making Great Pitti Sausage, it’s time to move on to linking sausage, smoked sausage, etc.

Meat Grinder:

Some hand cranks use a meat grinder, but a small electric meat grinder is relatively inexpensive and easy to use. Remember to clean all parts thoroughly as you pass, and, to be safe, you can soak the meat-contacting parts in at least one hour before consuming 50% alcohol and 50% water.

Preparation of Meat:

After deer skin, remove the meat from the carcass and cool overnight. White connective tissue is easier to remove when the meat is cooled near freezing temperatures. Some can be removed with your fingers using latex gloves. Some need to start with a knife at one end and then peel it, and some need to be cut like a fish filling. The meat is then cut into portions and lengths that will fit around the neck of your grinders.

Grinding:

Use a coarse grind as you grind all the Venetians you use. I grind my meat in a large plastic meat tub, but any large kitchen bowl will do. For every four pounds of ground Venice, grind a pound of “bacon ends and peace” or fatty pork and mix both by hand. Alternatively, if you weigh the meat in the east you can grind coarsely with both venison and pork at the same time.

Mixing:

Separate the volume you are going to use in another container as a hamburger. If you are making chili meat you may want to grind the venison differently in the previous step and pack it as a coarse grind without the extra fat. If you plan to make two or more sausage recipes, you may also want to separate each of these. Mix the spices by hand for each recipe and then run through a grinder on a small grinder. (Most grinders come with at least three sized grinders.)

Recipes:

There are lots of rec online recipes to choose from, and you should experiment until you have rides by your family. Before packaging, I want to cook a small box of each mixture to test the mixture I am using. Then, if he needs something, he can mix it up again and add something.

Packaging:

Pack your different blends to the size or style of packaging you want to use, but let it “set” in the refrigerator for 24 hours before cooling so that the spices can completely penetrate the meat. I personally prefer to vacuum my meat in King King because it will prevent freezer burning longer than other types of packaging, but if your family is like me, it will last a long time before it happens.

[hide-the-cutlery]

The Four Horsemen

Today was awful. I felt absolutely manic. I was irritated. I was pissed. I was emotional. I was throwing things around while cleaning. (Side note: if you ever want to add some aggravation to your life, try organizing hangers and putting them neatly into a box. Jesus fucking Christ.) I posted a comment on Facebook that turned volatile, where I ended up calling about 25 random strangers idiots, just because I felt like bickering. Talk about backfiring — it essentially wound up with people just picking on me. I swore out loud, loudly, which I knew would upset my parents. I went to the gas station to smoke a cigarette, and when I got home, my father just happened to be in the hallway in front of my room, no doubt trying to look casual, but with the intent of smelling me to see if I smoked one. I think my mother is frightened of me because I couldn’t contain an explosion of frustration I had when I was trying to talk to her and had to force myself to try to speak in a calm tone. I also think she is judging me because I couldn’t stay awake during the afternoon, mostly due to a medication increase. She flat out told me I’ve been loopy the past few days and that it scares her. It’s equally upsetting that I’m only trying to feel better, but it’s scaring people. I’m still trying to adjust to the increase, and after reading up on the medication, the risks and side effects are scary and just plain suck. I’m already fat enough, I can’t wait to gain more weight. Nothing seems to satiate me; I was contemplating making a bagel a few minutes ago. At 2:30am. It would figure that just as I feel like I’m ready to start dating, even though I’m disgusted with my body, I now get to be even more disgusting and insecure. Fucking hell.

The meds are giving me wild dreams. Last night I dreamt I was Baker acted and learned that the cops had been called on me several times, but had gotten stuck in traffic each time. I know I physically attacked at least one person and stabbed my mother. In my dream, my parents had also moved me out of my room and into another. (This has actually happened in real life, but I knew they were going to make me switch rooms. After being in their house a few months after I got out of the hospital, I was kicked out of my room, which I grew up in, and moved into my sister’s old room. She still had a child’s bed when she moved out. So now I’m 32, sleeping on a child’s bed, in my sister’s room, while she’s off living in her nice apartment and getting a useful degree and thriving without a battle with addiction and her mental health. She’ll probably never end up broke, with a useless degree, living in our parents’ house, like I have been the past 2 years because I can’t fucking take care of myself. Anyway, the reason I was relocated? My mother wanted to keep the “guest” (my) room nice for when guests come. Which has been once in the two years and some months since I’ve been here. And it was my grandparents. Clearly I’m still holding a resentment towards her about that, but I seem to have gone on a tangent — back to my dream.) The rooms in the dream weren’t in a house, but in an apartment arranged like the one I spent my freshman year in, except the shapes and sizes were different. The one my stuff was put into while I was at the mental health facility was very strangely shaped and extremely small. Occupying my old, larger, square-shaped room was a girl I used to work with, who I always hated out of jealousy. She began the same position I held about 3 years after I had been hired. I had been promoted by then, so I technically outranked her, but she was the fucking golden girl in my old office. She could do no wrong. The sad thing is if I wasn’t so jealous of her, we probably could have been friends. We even discovered we had dated two brothers! Within months, she was going to conferences around the country and Canada. I was never sent on a conference — just medical leave. Yes, my old boss actually told me I needed a break, and I had to stop working and go on short-term disability for 6ish weeks. I know she was trying to save my ass, because the quality of my work had slipped so low it was probably a fire-able offense, but really now, how many people are told they can’t work until they get some rest and time to focus on addressing some of the stress and grief they are obviously experiencing? I was even sober at the time. Well, what I mean by “sober” is that I wasn’t drinking. Getting so fucking high on Xanax every day, though, that’s a different story... I was getting drunk again by the time I came back to work.

My dreams are terrifyingly realistic. They usually follow the same storyline: I end up involved with a group of male friends and tend to gravitate towards one. He is usually aloof; I spend time with the rest of them to get closer to him. None of them are real people, but creations of my own, lonely mind. It’s funny, but the dreams usually involve Star Wars or WoW. That, or I dream about my ex or old best friend, who I was in love with from my junior year of high school and well into college. Sometimes they blend into one person, which isn’t that strange. They reminded me a lot of each other, and I’d give anything to have one (or both) of them back into my life. Their family is usually around, and more times than not, they are focused on a girl that is not me. Everything feels so real, and I believe I’ve written before about how, even in the dream, I feel/think it shouldn’t be another goddamn girl. It should be me. Often I will become violent towards the other girl, if given the opportunity. I even experience a sense of betrayal that carries on long beyond the dream and into the reality I am sometimes cursed with upon waking. And, of course, I have drinking dreams. Not so surprisingly, it’s actually not only drinking — I’ve had dreams recently about pills and even coke (which I’ve only done 3-4 times!). I have a friend who sees the same psychiatrist as I do, who told me he can prescribe me something to stop the realistic dreams, but honestly, I don’t want that. The pathetic truth is I like my dreams. It’s a way for me to have the opportunity to interact with people I desperately miss, even if it’s painful on occasion. It’s a way to lash out at people I’m angry with without actually doing so. It’s a way to drink and use (although those dreams are usually a saga of finding and keeping the stuff instead of actually having/using it). It’s a way to escape the life I’ve built and despise.

Sometimes I feel like I only live for other people. When I step back and observe my life, it’s often hard for me to point out something I enjoy or that brings me happiness (besides my kitties), including friend/relationships (unless turning back time was realistic). There are are voids in my heart and soul I fear will never be filled. I know I have people who love me and want to be in my life, and I’m trying to let them come in closer instead of pushing them away. The reality, though, is this: I don’t like my life and feel I could never be content unless I morphed it into my old one. I miss the familiarity of it. I miss days on the couch, just watching tv and chatting with people. I miss having my cats inside with me. I miss being the boss. I miss gaming, cranking up my music as loud as I want. Watching, doing, wearing, fucking, leaving, buying, smoking, drinking, taking whatever/whoever/wherever/whenever I wanted. Being messy. Isolating. Escaping. Again, the brutal truth is that I wanted to go out today. I’m sick of relying on pills so I don’t have to face reality. I hate that I can’t face reality — that everything needs to be tuned down so I can function. As I was looking at my life today, I contemplated for a while what I could change to make it enjoyable. “Happy, joyous, and free.” I couldn’t think of anything, and maybe there is a possibility that it’s simply not comprehendible to me at this point. Maybe I’m just not that far along in my healing/recovery yet, and lord knows I need treatment for having BPD or bipolar disorder or whatever the hell theydecide I have as well as the anxiety, panic disorder, depression, substance abuse problems, OCD tendencies, impulse control issues — they being anyone who takes care of me in some sort of fashion. In other words, all my providers.

They have all told me that I cannot drink ever again because my liver can’t take it. I could be dead in weeks, months, a day, who knows. Regardless of the time, I won’t make it out alive if I decide to go for a trip down memory lane. One of the only times I’ve seen a look of actual concern in my psychiatrist’s eyes (his voice is level, calm, and almost caring, but his eyes betray him) was while he was telling me “you don’t want to die from liver failure”. My primary described to me what would happen as my organs would begin to shut down: unbelievable pain, weakness, fluid swelling my whole body, bleeding out from the veins in my throat, no hope... But I don’t want to go like that — in a hospital, attached to monitors, needles under my skin, aides, nurses, doctors, family all shuffling in and out, everyone knowing by my yellow eyes and skin that I did it all to myself. Imagine the shame! No, I’d rather it be like being found on the bathroom floor. I feel like I wouldn’t be missing a lot. How much is there to miss in a world you can’t face? In a reality where you can’t think of a single possible thing to, not even realistically, but hypothetically change to make you happy? (Besides the time thing, or undoing a hell of a lot of bad memories from awful, unfair experiences). Maybe it’s my disease, as they call it, talking. Maybe it’s just something I’ll have to experience instead of trying to imagine. Maybe it’s a lot of things, but all I can possibly fathom, a life beyond my wildest dreams, doesn’t add up to the responsibility I imagine I have to stick around for others. Sometimes, all I feel is Terror, Bewilderment, Frustration, and Despair. No one knows those feelings like I do, or I should say no one experiences them like I do. My feelings are intense — too intense, I’ve been told by therapists. So yeah, Terror, Bewilderment, Frustration, and Despair push me to wanting to go out so badly sometimes. One last hurrah, and then just end it, but I couldn’t live with the guilt I’d feel. What if it persisted through death? I couldn’t handle that, but ha, I’d be shit out of luck at that point. I suppose I should note that these intense feelings were much more present earlier, but now all I feel is grogginess. It’s 4:40am. I think I’ll read this over once, even though I know it’s confusing, choppy, and just bad, and then try for some sleep. I know my dream self has people she’s waiting to see.

[hasafraker]

Ride to Work

I think last month was ride your bicycle to work day, week, month or something. I totally missed the boat mostly because I just didn’t have a way to carry all my stuff with me. Rather than kill myself trying for the sake of doing it on the designated day, I have finally gotten what I need to just do it every day. I got a rack and some bags last weekend for my Jamis Coda Elite.

Got a few other things as well, a lock to make sure it stays where I left it. I’ve seen others drop their horse shoe style lock in the rails of the rack, and would you look at that mine fits there perfectly too!

So this last Monday I worked from home, yes its a thing! When I worked for the place that shall not be named, my boss there was very adamant that nobody was allowed to work from home (except him) because he didn’t trust that you would be working. Yeah ok... I got nothing, my new job/boss is like “you will work from home 4 days a week, 1 week a month and if you need to work from home on a particular day for whatever reason just let me know we’ll figure it out.” WOW such forward thinking I don’t know how to act. 

Anyhow so Monday I worked from home, my laptop weighs a TON! It might as well be a legit boat anchor when it comes to carrying this beast on my bicycle. The bags I got (which I will review later for fun) are quite spacious and swallowed the laptop, power supply, headset, change of clothes, towel, lunch box and misc other stuff that I pack to work w/out any problems. 

Now mind you, I’ve been trying to get out and ride 3x a week at the minimum to make sure I am in shape enough to survive the 5 mile ride to work. You laugh, “hah a mere 5miles?! you smell of elder berries!” No really, this is a rough 5 miles. I’ve never lived in a place that was more hill ridden in my life! From the house I ride up hill about a mile to the first main road that runs towards work. Then the next 3.5 miles are flatter but slightly downhill, it’s a decent roll and I can get cranking on it pretty good. The last .5 miles... I should nickname it the murder hill because the grade is ridiculous.

Wednesday mornings ride started out great, yay, riding to work, this will be glorious! I head out, first hill, no big deal, heart pounding, breathing heavy, legs warming up wow the bike feels really heavy lol. As I crest the top of the first big hill and get ready to turn right at the light my legs are really burning. I will say one thing for traffic here in MD is that bicyclists are tolerated really well? Maybe it’s just really pro-bicycle? I’ve only had 1 motorist honk at me and in retrospect she may have been honking at another driver for not letting her get out from behind me. 

Anyhow, so the next stretch I really get going there are a few upward sections that slow me down some but it’s mostly flattish so this is where I make my time, even the roads are in decent shape so I’m not dodging potholes or anything. 

Then I reach the decent before a good downhill section and I attack it with as much energy as I can because I want to carry some speed through to see how far I can get up the hill before I have to start down shifting to keep the wheels moving. I’m in top gear about 1/3rd of the way down because I was already moving pretty fast, now I’m going probably 30+ mph and the FRICKIN LIGHT CHANGES!! GAH! So I downshift because I don’t want the cross traffic to road pizza me and stop at the light panting. Green light and now I’m at the bottom on the hill before the murder hill and I have to climb this section first to get to the real hill... real hill, like this hill is just an illusion that’s kicking my ass? If only that were so. 

So I get up the hill, and again catch another red light and grab a drink while I wait for the light to change. Now this downhill section at the bottom of the murder hill is just long enough for me to get nearly into top gear with some serious effort on my part, but with traffic coming and going on both sides of the road I feel a little like Mad Max now because I’m trying again not to die on my way to work and the motorists only have so much humor when it comes to cyclists so I do try not to surprise them by popping out in front of them without any notice. I manage to slip in behind the last mini van to go by and find a gap in the oncoming cars so I’m able to slip all the way over to the left side of the road because there is a second lane on that side for traffic turning into any of the multiple driveways over there vs a 2′ shoulder on the right side of the road.

So now as I attack the murder hill and shift down into 1st as fast as I can and just try to keep the cranks spinning so the wheels don’t stop I can feel my heart rate climb, my lungs are burning almost as much as my legs and I push myself and push myself and I can feel my breakfast threatening to make another appearance and I tell myself not to think about it and just keep the pedals going and I realize at this point that if I don’t stop I will likely either pass out and fall over or puke, or both, and if I’m really unlucky maybe even a heart attack is lurking in there for me! Ok so I unclip first because I’ve had a number of “OMG I can’t get out of my clips and I’m going to fall now” recently and I don’t want to crash with my new bags and my laptop and all my stuff so yeah at least I had enough brain power left to remember to unclip first. 

I get off the bike and walk it the remaining 200′ to the first driveway that is linked to the work parking lots. I grab another drink, catch my breath a little, hop back on the bike and will my legs back to work again pushing the pedals and off we go, I find a little service road that takes me to another road that seems like it goes off into nowhere so I jump the curb and ride along a volleyball court and come to another drive that comes to the first manned guard access gate. WHEW I’m gonna make it! I get there, badge in and ask for directions to the building where the Gym is located because employees can use the showers there if they need to. Boy do I need to at this point because I’m dripping sweat.

I roll down to that building, another guard nearby directs me to the nearest bike rack, I get locked up, grab my bag with my change of clothes and he then tells me how to find the showers, what a guy! I got showered and dressed and back to the bike. Load back up and now I have like 2 blocks to slow ride cause I’m beat to get to my building and stow my bike and head up to my floor so I can get to work. 

So that was my first day riding to work! The ride home was seemingly easier but I don’t think it really is, the murder hill is fun going back the other way but if you don’t mind the potholes (there are a couple I have discovered) your water bottles will eject from their bottle cage (cage my ass) like little rockets that you may never find again especially if the cars behind you think it’s a game and try to run them over for you... :(  but... the murder hill I can really fly down and carry enough speed to reach the top of the next hill which makes that section easier. Once you head past that and through the next downhill section the long stretch to the last mile to the house is mostly uphill some is not as bad as others but still by the time I got home I was a sweaty mess.

I didn’t let my first day stop me oh no, my second day I got up, got ready and looked outside and it was POURING lmao just my luck, well... we have just 1 car right now, my motorcycle is in the shop getting new brake lines and the bicycle is all I have so I suited up and off I went and soaked to the bone I got, my gear was still fairly wet by the time I went home that day. The benefit to riding in the rain and having showers at work is, I don’t wear a rain cover, who cares I’m not made of sugar right? The rain and wind keep you much cooler so that helps, other wise I’m just soggy which for a long ride would be miserable but 5 miles is totally no big deal.

Then yesterday it was still raining on my way to work but not as hard so that was actually very pleasant I dare say I enjoyed it. However yesterday, I made it up the murder hill without having to get off my bike! Woohoo!! Then last night my wife got done with her job early and offered to come get me at work and just put my bike in the back and I declined, I like riding, I told her it would be fine. It was 86 degrees yesterday when I left work so I was cooking and sweating but again, I enjoy the ride, I like pushing myself it makes me feel alive and I’m hoping in the long run will improve my fitness level and help me bring my weigh back down.

So there you go... I’m riding my bicycle to work now every day, though I do reserve the right to ride my motorcycle on days when it’s pouring because trying to dry my stuff out before the ride home is a bit of a pita lol otherwise, go out there and get it!

If you ever wanted to ride to work and you have the time, that is the big investment here, if you live within 10miles of your job it’s very doable, even 15 if you’re very fit, 20 becomes more trouble because now we’re talking 1hr to 1hr 20 minutes. I needed a rack and panniers because a backpack will put my arms to sleep and I can’t ride like that. I remember what it was like in HS and now I have carpal tunnel and bad arthritis in my thumbs and yeah no not gonna do it. 

I encourage anybody who has the desire, who has a bicycle worthy of the commute, to give it a shot, even if it’s just once, just to say you did, and if you can do it on the bike to work day/week/month well if the area you live in does that sort of thing there could be a free meal and swag in it for you. Here the LBS’s and some local food and sporting goods places are really big on it and get together and have rides and food and it was a little crazy I was sad I missed it.

I will probably start doing bits on my ride to work shenanigans, like how to fix a flat tire or more likely how NOT to fix a flat tire on the side of the road on your way to work and not take too much time so you’re not late hehe. Anyhow my peoples, have a great week, get outside, be happy and healthy!

[parkjmini]

Precarious // 6

mafia!bts: park jimin precarious: adj. dangerously insecure or unstable Psychotic, that’s how he viewed himself. He was a precise hitman who never made a mistake, until now. Set on an all kill mission, he brings back more than just blood stains. word count: 1057 warnings: explicit language, violence

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I will be updating less frequently bc school is starting again and I know i will not have time to update )): im sorry, but i am tremendously happy for all the love and support for my stories so far <33 thank you all so much !!!

Jimin ignored you the first couple of days when you were back. He was obviously upset with you for causing such a mess. 

“You had one job.” He yelled sternly at you. He was right. You couldn’t even complete a simple task. You deserved it, and let him fume out his anger. 

Your scars were healing with the regular, proper cleaning. Jin helped you bandage them up because Jimin wouldn’t respond when you would call for him. Besides Jimin, you didn’t really talk to anyone in the mansion. 

Namjoon was almost always in his work room. He only left for food and sleep. J-Hope and Suga were busy with drug trade, so they were out most of them time. V and Jin were busy making the drugs and separating them into different packaging. Jungkook flat out hated you and avoided any alone time with you at all cost. You ended up feeling very lonely and isolated. 

You didn’t fit in and even if you tried to, you would screw things up. Empty days led to a vast exploration of thoughts. You often would think about your brother and your mother. Thoughts of Yugyeom and where he ended up would sporadically arise. Questions to why you were still even alive would always pop up. 

You wondered everyday why Jimin or anyone else hasn’t gotten rid of you yet. You were an extra waste of space. You contributed nothing to the team all the while eating their food and using their necessities. Things wouldn’t change around the house and it was an easy task to kill you. You just never understood what went on in their heads.

Jimin needed to be mad at you. You were unable to complete the given task, so you should be punished for it. However, ignoring you only made him want to talk to you more. There was a constant itch to speak to you. He wished to talk to you forever, to hear your voice.

He didn’t know how much longer he could fake his disappointment. Every time he heard his name roll off of your tongue, he had to fight the urge to respond. Ignoring you also meant avoiding you. He would have to walk away when you entered the room or go to bed after or before you. It ate him alive.

He craved to be around you. At night, when your eyes would be close, he’d admire you in your sleep because he missed seeing your face. He wanted to reach out and brush the loose strands away or caress your soft skin. 

Jimin hated how you made him feel, but accepted it. Being away from you hurt more than feeling. Losing you scared him more than his sweet emotions. He stopped trying to put out the embers and let the spark grow into a beautiful fire of passion. He lost the desire to shred it into pieces. He indulged in the life that filled his empty soul and the warmth that defrosted his cold heart. 

He felt weak to you though. You had the ability to see right through him if you merely looked harder. His heart was in your hands and you were able to destroy him in an instant. You’d never know though, because that’s the one thing that Jimin didn’t allow. He refused to show how you made him feel, afraid that you wouldn’t reciprocate the same feelings and you’d end him forever. 

“Are you done being upset, Jimin?” You asked in a small voice. It had been a total of 12 days that he hasn’t spoken a word to you. He peered up at the sound of his name, but continued to draw back the bed sheets. Frankly, you were fed up with him ignoring you and wanted human interaction. 

You sighed. Unlike previously, Jimin wore pants to bed now. It surprised you the first night you saw it, but felt good knowing he cared enough for your comfort. You decided to crank it up a notch and cleared your throat. Whenever you tried to convince your brother to do something for you, you’d use a cute, whiny voice to budge him. It was absolutely cringe worthy, but it worked most of the times.

“Are you done being upset, Jimin?” You asked again, except with a cuter tone and a prominent pout to finish it off. Jimin blinked at you, unsure if he had heard you correctly. He stared at your pouting face and refrained from cuddling the life out of you. Instead, he nodded and covered himself with the blanket. 

“I’m going to take you somewhere, tomorrow.” Jimin said before clicking off the light. “I’ll wake you up.”

“Where are we going?” Once you were able to talk to him, you had so much to say. Your curiosity reminded him of a child, always filled with wonder.

He laughed, a harmonious tune. “Don’t worry. I think you’d like it.” 

“How do you know what I like?” 

“I actually don’t. Tell me, what do you like?” He faced you and his eyelids fell halfway over his eyes.

“I like yellow flowers, like sunflowers, because they represent happiness. My favorite foods are..” You began listing all your favorite things because you couldn’t stop the words from falling out of your mouth. 

Jimin didn’t mind though. He fell asleep soundlessly to the music of your voice. He was finally regaining a part of him he once lost. He didn’t know how you did it, but you restored tranquility in his destructive, precarious lifestyle. Maybe he lacked a companion or someone who didn’t talk to him about business. He thought that he’d be blinded forever by the blood of enemies and always thirst for kill, but your purity slowly pulled him out of the dark abyss. 

He knew he was a maniac with unstable thoughts. He kills people for a living. Perhaps because he’d seen so much evil in the world that you seem to be the only good thing in his life. He promised himself he’d treasure you. He’d try his hardest to control his psychotic lash outs and insecurities for you. He wanted to be the better him, so he no longer could see the fear in your eyes every time he exploded. 

In any simple, cliche way, you made him feel whole. You made him feel alive.

[gendermesenpai-blog]

3:18pm

I just listened to 59 minutes and 51 seconds of the Kanye/Charlamagne interview while I was going through my key database and updating my contact information across my various accounts to include my new mailing address.

I feel like there is no proper way to react to Ye at this point - if you say he is full of shit and talking out his ass, you’re pretty much just a hater, you turned your back on Ye because that’s apparently considered the correct thing to do now that he’s out here wearing MAGA hats and talking about how slavery for 400 years was a choice. And the truth is that a lot of what he has been saying since he came back to public life in recent weeks makes a lot of sense, so if you refuse to acknowledge that and say no, it’s all bullshit, he’s lost his mind and reached a point of unquestionable irrelevance, the “end of Kanye” as people are calling it, you’re really just exemplifying the closed mindedness that Ye is criticizing.

Hold up, what? Is this real life? Am I serious? I don’t even know.

Because if you say he’s a genius and he’s making all the right moves right now, you sound like you just smoked PCP out of a 3 inch section of garden hose.

But I mean I just listened to the guy talk for an hour and only said “yo shut up Ye that’s stupid” one time. And I don’t even remember what it was now, because I can only really remember the stuff he said that was smart.

OK I am done talking about Kanye now.

Last night I performed my first show ever. First time performing my own music. I feel like I butchered it completely. It is really weird when you’re up there. Even if there’s only like 10 or 15 people. It feels way different than you imagine it would. But I fucked up a lot of lines. I had to restart one of the songs and still fucked up on the same part. I was much drunker than I had meant to be. I had been drinking since 3 and went on at 11 or something. And I had been smoking since at least 8. Idk, literally no one said a bad word about it. All of my friends and some complete strangers were saying how great I did. But no one can convince me that it was good. I feel terrible and cringy about it. Sick to my stomach in a way. But I still want to do it again? Is that stupid? I’m stupid.

There is video of it but the guy who is supposed to send it to me is slacking hard as shit. His fucking phone, holy shit - I tried for like an hour last night to get it to send the videos to me on like 3 different apps, Mega, Messenger, Youtube, none of them would upload the fucking videos. So he has to plug it into his computer and transfer them. He said like everyone else that I did really good, that I had fucked up a bunch of lines, but because none of them knew any of my songs they wouldn’t have known that from the way I performed it? I don’t know. I don’t see how anyone could’ve not noticed.

A funny detail he told me was that, like, ok my ex roommates and their weird Chicago friends were there the whole time, and apparently their plan was to fuck with me by clapping obnoxiously after all my songs, but because everyone was enjoying it so much and being so loud anyway, they couldn’t do it. I really, like, I keep going over moments in my head that I can remember where I like mumbled certain lines, or delivered lines at the wrong part of the verse and the adlibs were mismatched, or when I completely blanked and was just letting the beat play out. At one point I just shouted out my own beat. Hahaha. I was like “listen to this beat” lol and just waited for the next transition

I can’t even decide if I’m glad I went through with it. I guess time will tell how this affects my relationship with people. Specifically this one vet messenger we have on our squad who everyone looks up to seems very enamored with me right now. He made a big speech about how I’m an asset, and I’m part of the elite group or whatever, the privileged group of elites, and like, how I’m Baltimore now, and even if I leave, no matter where I go, I’ll always be Baltimore.

It’s so weird, I had basically just planned on being here for a while and just kind of surviving or whatever and then taking off and never contacting these people again, and I accidentally made everyone love me and respect me and want to have long-lasting relationships with me and shit. Well, not everyone obviously. But yeah it’s weird as hell. The big group picture we took at like 3 am last night when everyone was plastered drunk and coked out is pretty funny, I think I actually might pass as a girl in it. 

No one has said a word about the changes, not my face or my tits. I think they still haven’t noticed. One guy asked maybe a week or 2 weeks ago if I shave my legs and I used a couple of the lines I had prepared. We were alone, I think I had shaved the previous day and so the hair was coming back in as spots and were visible enough in the light that he noticed them. I said “why are you interested or something?” and he laughed then I said “Nah, you know that episode of Always Sunny where Frank shaves off all the hair on his body, like even his eyebrows and he’s like ‘I jussst wanntttoobeee purrreeeee’... [pause] it’s basically like that.” I think that was it, he was smiling the whole time though, I don’t think he thought anything of it really. And actually, the way he asked me was “do you shave your legs for speed?” so he kind of gave me an out at the beginning. I probably made it weirder by saying that. But they’re jokey lines and I prepared them to be jokey and he laughed and smiled so I think it worked.

I’m still not wearing a bra. I think I want to start if just to project them because when they get hit it hurts a lot. Even when I’m just taking my bag on and off. And then I always try to go in for these bro-ey handshakes with dudes and they bump their fist into my tit and it hurts a lot. Happened like 3 times last night. I have to like stop doing that handshake or somehow learn to prevent them from making contact with my tit. 

When I first started treatment I felt weird about the tits. They weren’t a huuge part of my dysphoria, and they started coming in really immediately, or they felt like they did. So it was like, all of a sudden I had these lil titty knots that I didn’t know what to do with. I felt kind of conflicted and strange, almost in a body horror kind of way. When I was younger I was chubby and had “man boobs” or whatever and I always hated them because of how people made fun of me. But now, it’s been like 4 months or whatever, I keep having these weird days or moments where I think the progress is slowing down or reversing or something, I check in the mirror and my tits look smaller, or my facial hair makes my face look worse or whatever, and I start thinking about how if my tits disappeared now I would be hella distressed, like I would be like noooo, come back lol. Even though I wasn’t even sure if I wanted them before. Now I’m like... yo.. tits are great. lol. They’re so sensitive!! It’s a blessing and a curse maybe.

Godddd I keep thinking about the show and being like “what the fuck did I dooooo”

It would help if I had the video, I need to review it to see how bad it really was, otherwise all I have is my shit warped memory that’s probably all exaggerated.

What else. I moved into a new house. It’s lit. Cheap as fuck, roommates are cool as hell. Haven’t unpacked my shit yet. No furniture to speak of. Ima get a desk and a chair soon, maybe a dresser. Buncha hangers for the closet. Posters. I need money fuck. I have to get my next dose like within the next 2 days. I only have 2 doses of spiro left. I might deal with it today actually, I smoked some pot and I’m feeling good so maybe when 5 rolls around I’ll go do a little Uber work. Currently sitting on a hot $0.42 in my bank. I do have like $6 in cash on me but that’s food money for tomorrow in case I end up just falling asleep today/tonight like has been happening. It’s almost like a mild case of narcolepsy except it only affects me when I’m laying in my bed. But since I don’t have a chair in this room yet, this is my only place to sit or be comfortable in my room. And I still have that tailbone thing. Fucking 4 weeks to heal just because I bumped my saddle on my ass. Fuck’s sake, what is that? Universe, what is you doing?

Oh, I upgraded my bike a shitload. Maaaad new parts. Like $450 worth of parts. Feels pretty dreamy. Pretty sexy. Although I am having some trouble adjusting to the 48t up from 46t on my previous chainring. I can still ride it and all that, but I do feel considerably slower than I did on the 46t chainring. Maybe it will end up making me stronger again? I don’t see how anything could make me weaker at this point lol. And I am pretty fast on flats! I just mean climbing, like heading north from downtown which is like basically one giant hill. I’m always out of breath on those climbs now. I’ve been trying to do big powerful breaths instead of constantly panting though, if I’m going to have to breathe different, I might as well try out some different stuff and see what works. Panting like a dog at all times is not sexy.

The 170mm cranks and the new ratio have made my pedals/cleats work a bit differently. I am popping out more again. I reeeally need to buy some Time pedals. In the meantime I will replace my cleats. Once they start getting worn down they are practically useless for skidding which is what I need them for, like, to stay alive, because I don’t really use my brake anymore. I am actually probably going to go brakeless after I get my Time pedals. Now that I can ride fixed, and I’ve been doing it for a while, I understand that brakeless isn’t really as edgy and difficult as people think it is. You can ride brakeless and just be fucking slow as shit all day and never get anywhere but look cool as fuck doing it. You can ride brakeless and go fast as hell, but not even skid, because you just know your city and the lights and intersections well enough to slow yourself down at the right time via reverse pressure. With clipless pedals, this is a piece of cake, really. Anyone who learns fixed on straps probably has more trouble with this sort of thing. But on clipless, it’s easy as shit to me, I do it without even thinking. I know how to control my bike well enough to not use the brake that’s on it. And that’s the point where I feel safe enough to try going brakeless. Bare in mind, I won’t be riding the same exact way - I will be extremely careful at first and ease into it with more comfort in time. I will not take unnecessary risks. The city that I work in, and the company and clients I work for, affords me the ability to ride hard only when absolutely necessary. So for the most part I will be able to practice brakeless control without flying around subjecting myself to dangerous situations constantly and without exception. Of course I will eventually probably do that, but I’m giving it time. Like when I took my back brake off after I was beginning to learn to skid. I could’ve taken it off much earlier, but I took it off when I was ready, and it’s worked out well for me so far.

I think I need to write some new songs.