#it was like $45 for a fucking quart god

[000png]

:(

[iwritesickfic]

boy who cried flu

(yes I am aware of how stupid this title is leave me alone)

Peter rarely - if ever - got sick. Nobody who didn’t know him well would believe it though - he had a long track record of absences and missed assignments, despite being a 3.9 GPA student. He’s flaked from social events and parties countless times, always citing he’s not “feeling well.” It’s not technically a lie, though he does lie sometimes. 

People understand physical illness - they know what it feels like to be stuck in bed with a bad cold - but mental illness? Not so much. So...he bends the truth. A professor won’t be very forgiving if you say you spent all weekend in bed because you couldn’t find the motivation to move, but say you had a bad cough? No one bats an eye.

So most people assume Peter has an awful immune system. That or he’s just a pussy who won’t leave the house with so much as a sore throat. Everyone except a select few - Simon, Ashlynn, and Alex. 

Simon’d been his friend since undergrad, and they’d been roommates for a time, so he knows exactly what Peter means when he says he “doesn’t feel well.” Ashlynn is the type to show up unannounced with a quart of homemade soup. And Alex...Alex was there when things had gotten out of hand. 

But just because they knew he was lying when he said he was sick didn’t mean he stopped using it as an excuse. Ashlynn, despite herself, would usually not question it. Simon wouldn’t think twice about the lie, almost taking it as a direct confession. Alex would usually get pissed off and demand some kind of proof.

They were supposed to go to the beach tomorrow - get up early and take the train together to rockaway. But somehow, for the first time in years, Peter has something more than some congestion. Something way more.

It started a few days ago, a runny nose and swollen sinuses. He slept like shit, and the next morning his throat was raw and he absolutely could not breathe through his nose. But he had class, so he took the train in and sat in his lecture and tried to keep his sniffling to a minimum. By the time he was headed home, he’d long since run out of clean tissues, so he tends to his nose with a damp scrap of napkin he found buried in his bag, his nostrils red and irritated from the abuse. 

By the time he gets home, his congestion has gone from a clogged, static brick in his head to leaky, runny mess, but he’s well aware he can’t take a day off from work on his thesis, so he sits in bed working until 2 AM, one hand wiping the mess from his upper lip, the other scribbling notes in his worn out pad. 

He wakes the next morning not sure when he fell asleep, his head pounding heavily behind his eyes, sinuses throbbing and inflamed. His throat feels swollen and hot, and the relentless sneezing that started the night before isn’t helping any. The two days prior, everything seemed to be concentrated in his head, but now it’s clear it’s migrating into his chest as well. Halfway through his day at work in the library, he starts to cough, wet and harsh. 

It doesn’t help that his body aches like he ran a marathon, and chills are coursing through him like ice water in his veins. By the end of the day he can’t wait to finally sit down and rest. His body’s been screaming for it since the moment he got out of bed, and all day shelving books has really taken its toll.

Unfortunately, he’s got an hour long commute and lucky for him, it’s standing room only. He grips the subway pole like a lifeline, his head spins every time the train rocks. He catches a glimpse of his reflection in the darkened window - he looks awful. Bags like bruises under his eyes that are rimmed in pink and half lidded, his nose irritated and red. A coughing fit tears through him, and he tries his best to catch it in his sleeve. His knees start to tremble as he tries to take deep breaths, and he’s startled when someone taps him on the shoulder.

“You wanna sit?” the woman asks, and it takes him a minute to realize she’s offering her seat. Normally, he’d suck it up, but he’s too miserable to refuse. He mumbles a thanks, and sinks down.

It takes all his self control not to fall asleep then and there.

By the time he’s back at his building, he’s seriously doubting he can climb four flights to get to the apartment. Part of him would rather just lay down in the lobby but he knows this is the final stretch before he can climb into bed and sleep.

He’s interrupted by several fits of coughs, and by the time he’s reached the fourth floor he’s practically gasping for air, and soaked in sweat. The chills he had all day have swapped with an oppressive heat that makes him feel almost lightheaded. 

Somehow, he’s quite sure, he manages to stumble to bed, stripping off his damp clothes, the cool air on his slick skin throwing him back into shaking chills. Just as he’s about to let himself be sucked into sleep, his eyes fly open. Tomorrow. 6 AM. He’s supposed to go to the beach. There is no fucking way he is going to the beach.

He texts their group chat with trembling fingers.

hey im real sick i cant go tomorrow

There’s an immediate reply from Alex.

don’t fuckin do this man. we’re going.

A text from Simon.

you’ll feel better if you leave the house, you always do.

He sighs, cursing himself for using this shitty excuse so much now no one will take him seriously.

im serious i feel like trash

Alex answers immediately.

PETER. youre not sick youre being a pussy. we’re going to the fucking beach and we’re having a good time.

Simon responds.

chill alex.

if youre depressed thats fine but maybe consider coming still it might help.

i mean i’d feel better if you came

Peter groans.

im sick. like sick sick. like flu sick.

Alex shoots back quickly.

ok then what are your symptoms?

Peter rubs his eyes, trying to relieve some of the throbbing. 

fever, chills, aches, cough, runny nose, headache, tired.

There’s a moment of silence and he places his phone on his bedside table with a sigh. He’s about to go under when his phone starts to buzz. Once. Twice. Three times. He swears, grabbing it. Three texts from Alex. The first is a screenshot of the symptom list that appears when you google “flu” which just happens to be in identical order.

you need to be more creative

seriously man im not letting you miss this. we planned this months ago. dont be a dick.

Finally, Ashlynn chimes in.

you dont need to lie p, its ok if you dont wanna come.

While Peter would like to further argue that he’s not in fact lying, he just doesn’t have the energy. At this point, it doesn’t matter what they think. He’s not going - who gives a shit why? He’s able to fall asleep almost immediately, but unfortunately, he doesn’t really stay asleep.

He wakes up about every 45 minutes, coughing or shivering or burning or all three. After his fourth or fifth jolt awake he can’t for the life of him seem to get any rest. Every time he’s about to drift off, another coughing fit explodes from his chest and leaves him trembling. He’s hot, but he’s not sweating, which he realizes vaguely must mean he’s dehydrated. As the night wears on and his condition continues to worsen, he wonders if he should call an uber to take him to the ER. He can’t afford it, not in the slightest, but he’s not sure he’s ever felt this terrible before. Somehow, he remembers there’s an old thermometer in the kitchen. An old roommate had bought it thinking it would work for deep frying but didn’t realize the range only spanned from 95 to 107.

He needs to take his temperature. See how serious this actually is. He can’t remember the last time he actually ran a fever, so he’s not sure if this is just par for the course or whether this level of misery is cause for alarm.

He stumbles into the kitchen, and for once he’s glad to live in such a god-awfully tiny studio. He lands heavily against the counter, and rummages through the drawer to find the small device. After what feels like an eternity, he manages to grab it with shaking hands, fumbling with the buttons for a moment before flipping on the small kitchen light. 

He sticks it under his tongue, it feels like ice. He tries to coach himself on what he’s going to do. If it’s over 100, he’ll go to the hospital. No, that’s too low. 102?Still maybe too ambitious of a goal. It’s then he realizes he’s really just trying to justify what he’s going to do anyway - save himself an ER bill and stay in bed. He’s jerked out of his thoughts when the small device beeps and he removes it carefully from under his tongue. 

The display flashes 103.2. He doesn’t really know what that means but after a quick google search it’s not exactly any clearer. It’s bad, but not bad enough to cause brain damage, supposedly. Fuck it, that’s good enough for him. He climbs shakily back into bed, the small excursion has left him absolutely exhausted. 

He needs medicine. He knows that. Some tylenol at the very least, but if he can barely walk to the kitchen he doesn’t know how in hell he’s getting out the door, down the stairs, to the pharmacy, and back again. So, he’ll just have to live with it. 

He spends the rest of the night in and out of half-sleep, each coughing fit seeming to drive the illness deeper into his lungs. His nose has started to run again, and each rub with the already-used tissue makes his poor sensitive nostrils burn in protest.

The next morning he wakes to the harsh, deafening drone of his apartment’s buzzer system. He cracks his eyes and checks the time. 6:42 AM. Whoever the fuck it is can wait, he’d like to suffer in peace. Still, as he tries to slip back into the sleep the buzzer continues to go off and after about five minutes, he sits up in bed, fighting the wave of dizziness that washes over him. He stumbles to the keypad and presses the button that opens the lobby door, and the buzzing finally - mercifully - ceases. 

He grabs a t shirt from a pile on the floor and pulls on a pair of boxers - he doesn’t know if he’d be able to stand anything more with the way his fever is raging. He sits on the edge of his bed, trying to catch his breath, quickly breaking down into another awful fit of coughs. Just as he’s finished, he hears a heavy knock on the door. Sighing, he forces himself up, padding slowly over to the door, trying not to aggravate the dizziness any further. He pulls open the door and is confused to see not an overzealous delivery person, but his three friends. 

He stares dumbly for a moment before a breath catches in his throat and he breaks into thick, wet coughs. He sniffles, wiping his nose with his wrist, before looking back up at them.

“What?” he mumbles, and there’s an awkward silence. 

“Shit,” Alex finally says and Peter sniffles.

“What do you want?” he repeats, surprised at the hoarse, broken quality of his voice. Does he really sound that bad? Ashlynn pushes forward, wrapping him in a tight hug. She’s short, so her face is pressed into his chest, and he stumbles back slightly.

“Oh Peter,” she whispers, and he swallows, closing his eyes. She pulls away, and he has to force them open again. She she presses a hand to his forehead. Her palm feels cool but uncomfortable against his oversensitive skin. “You’re burning up.”

“I know,” he murmurs, wishing the conversation could be over so he can go lie down and not have to explain himself to his friends. He sighs, and narrowly avoids another coughing fit. “Are you gonna come in or you just all gonna stand there?” They exchange looks. “Well?”

Ashlynn pushes past him, followed by Simon and finally Alex. Peter shuts the door and tries his best not to look as fucked up as he feels walking to sit in one of his kitchen chairs. 

“What do ya’ll want?” he asks Simon and Alex, Ashlynn already digging through the medicine cabinet.

“We don’t want anything we were just concerned,” Simon says.

“Then why do you look so fucking shocked?” Peter snaps, even though he knows Simon is only telling the truth.

“Because I was 100% sure you were bullshitting,” Alex says. Peter is far too tired to get into a verbal sparring match with Alex, but he tries halfheartedly anyway.

“Still sure?” before Alex can reply Ashlynn is back with a damp washcloth and the thermometer he’d used the night before. She lays the cloth on the back of his neck, and he can’t help the small whine that escapes. 

“Open,” she says, and he does. She places the thermometer under his tongue gingerly, and strokes some of his hair off his forehead. “You don’t have anything? For this?” Peter shakes his head. She presses her lips into a line. “Simon and me are gonna go out and grab some stuff, ok?”

“That’s not necessary.” His voice is almost slurred with the fever, and as if on cue the thermometer beeps. Ashlynn frowns at the reading. She shakes her head.

“Christ, Peter.” She touches his forehead again, this time with the back of her hand. “103.6 and it’s not necessary?”

“I don’wanna be lectured.”

“I’m not lecturing.” She spends another moment fussing with his hair before getting up, grabbing Simon. “We’re going to get some stuff, we’ll be back. Alex, make sure he doesn’t die, ok?” It’s clear Alex is about to protest, but Ashlynn levels him with a glare. They leave, and then it’s just Peter and Alex.

Alex stands by the door, hands in his pockets. It’s a while before either of them speaks.

“What was I supposed to think?” he finally says, and Peter tries to swallow his anger.

“I don’t know, man.” He runs a hand through his greasy, sweat damp hair. He starts to shiver again, wrapping his arms around his torso. Alex takes a careful step forward.

“You get why I wouldn’t believe you, right?”

“Yes, Alex.” The chills are now back in full force, he’s sure he must be shaking like a leaf. He wants nothing more than this conversation to be over, but Alex doesn’t seem to be getting to message.

“You never get sick. Ever. So what am I-”

“I get it. It’s fine. Just...stop talking. Please.” He’s shaking so bad he can feel his teeth chattering. He pulls his knees to his chest. He closes his eyes, praying something - anything - will warm him up. He hears footsteps and fumbling, then feels a dry, warm blanket being tucked around his shoulders. He looks up, and Alex is standing there, eyebrows furrowed. 

“Do you wanna lay down or something?” The thought of climbing back into his sweat damp sheets makes him cringe, so he shakes his head. “Why not?”

“S’gross, I sweat a ton.” 

Alex nods.

“Right. What about the couch? You can lay on the couch and I can do your laundry.” 

Getting horizontal sounds heavenly, so he nods, and Alex touches his shoulder, quickly pulling his hand back.

“What the fuck - dude, you’re like...on fire. Shit.” He tests the side of his neck and winces. “Fuck.”

“Can you just help me?” Peter is embarrassed at how small and sick his voice sounds, and the fact he’s asking Alex of all people for help, but he knows if he tries to do it on his own he’s going to fall and crack his skull.

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” He wraps an arm around Peter’s waist, and supports him the few feet to the couch. It’s not very far but his knees go weak about halfway there and he’s glad Alex is holding him. As soon as he gets onto the couch, he curls on his side and closes his eyes. “You’re ok?” Peter nods, and Alex pats his shoulder awkwardly. “Ok. Cool. Just...stay there, I guess.” Peter can hear him starting to strip the bed.

“I was maybe gonna go for a run,” he mumbles, and Alex laughs softly. 

“Definitely. Then I’ll enroll at NYU for my bachelor’s.”

“You’re just jealous you don’t have all my debt.”

“You’re right. I’ve been trying to rack up some credit card bills but so far no luck.”

Peter opens his eyes to see Alex with the bundle of sheets in his arms and the bottle of detergent. He pauses for a second, shifting from foot to foot.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and Peter swallows hard.

“I know man, it’s ok.” Alex smirks.

“Alright. Don’t die while I’m gone.”

[jqperi]

Get to Know Admin Coco

1. What’s your middle name? Orion

2. What are you listening to right now? Admin Izzy’s smacking (shes eating) && Come To Mama - Lady Gaga

3. What was the last thing you ate? McDonald’s

4. Who was the last person you talked to on the phone? My boyfriend

5. Do you drink? Socially  

6. Do you smoke? No 

7. What is the first thing you noticed in someone? Their attitude

8. What is your hair color? Light brown tips and my natural dirty brown. (I need a hair cut)

9. What is your eye color? Brown

10. Do you wear contacts/glasses? Glasses

11. Dogs or cats? BOTH!!

12. What’s your favorite animal? I love all living things, call me Rose Quarts… except bugs… fuck those guys lol

13. What’s your favorite television show? STEVEN UNIVERSE!!

14. What’s your favorite movie? Moana!

15. What’s your favorite band/singer? Well… BTS and Hoseok, They are the first group I actually fan over!

16. How old are you? 20

17. Do you have a crush on anyone? Yes~! My lovely boyfriend

18. What’s your sexual orientation? Straight

19. What’s your favorite color? Red

20. What was your most embarrassing moment? When i lost my virginity to  sophomore… uuuuugh

21. Do you ever wish you were someone else? No

22. What were you like when you were a kid? A cute lonely little turtle with a big imagination (Only child)

23. What would your dream house be like? Something that i worked hard for

24. What last made you laugh? Admin Izzy xD

25. What is your favorite word? Fucking bitch 😂😂)

26. What is your least favorite word? Moist!!! ugh!!

27. What turns you on? Neck kisses, deep voices, being in control and praising…. 

28. What turns you off? BEING SELFISH

29. What is your star sign? LEO!! 

30. What are your favorite books? Fanfiction, I don’t read books…

31. Do you have any siblings? I have a 5 year old little sister

32. Do you like to dance? I like to jump around.

33. What is your definition of cheating? Having relations with someone else behind your s/o back physically and emotionally…

34. Have you ever cheated on someone? Yes… in middle school for like two days, I FELT AWFUL!

35. Do you regret anything? Being to trusting…

36. Do you have any phobias? EVERYTHING THAT ISN’T NATURAL

37. Ever broken any bones? NOPE

38. Ever come close to death? I would hope not

39. What is your religion, if any? Christian, but not like hardcore lol

40. Have you ever been to a psychiatrist/therapist? No

41. Are looks important in a relationship? No, as long as that person makes you happy and smile it shouldn’t matter what you/they look like.

42. Are you more like your mom or your dad? Both, I get my sass, temper and attitude from my dad and laziness and patients from my mom

43. What is your favorite season? Winter because all of the clothes are cute.

44. Do you have any tattoos? YES! Just one. It says Worth It because I life is always worth it

45. Do you have any piercings? YES! 

46. How many boyfriends/girlfriends have you had? 9 Boyfriends and 1 girlfriend.

47. Have you ever had a crush on a fictional character? YES! Beast Boy from Teen Titans, don’t judge

48. Who is your celebrity crush? Hugh Jackman(lol), Jung Hoseok, And Park Jimin

49. Are you a virgin? Hell No

50. Do you get jealous easily? Yes but you won’t know unless I tell you lol

51. What is your favorite type of food? PASTA

52. Do you ever want to get married? Hopefully

53. Who was your first kiss with?His name was Tyler and it was in middle school at the our town fair.

54. Have you ever been cheated on? OOOOH Boy, remember that guy Tyler that I just told you about lol

55. What is your idea of the perfect date? We are both happy

56. Are you an introvert or an extrovert? Is both a thing?

57. Do you believe in aliens or life on other planets? I believe SOMETHING is out there and that there may be life on another planet…

58. What talent do you wish you’d been born with? I wish i could sing a

59. What is your saddest memory? When my mom thought something was wrong with her pregnancy and lost the baby, and was cradling my little sister’s little monkey. BUT MY SISTER IS HERE AND HEALTHY! That little monster.  

60. Do you believe in love at first sight? No

61. Do you believe in soul mates? MMM yes?

62. Have you ever dyed your hair? It’s dyed right now!

63. Has someone ever spread a nasty rumor about you? Not that i know of.

64. Would you go against your moral code for money? No! 

65. What are three things most people don’t know about you? 

66. Who are you jealous of? No one

67. Do you sleep with a stuffed toy? No

68. How long was your longest relationship? Remember that Tyler guy, we dated on and off for 4 years

69. Is the glass half empty or half full? I probably spilt it xD 

70. What is the sexiest thing someone could ever do for/to you? Go slow and take time for the build up.

71. Who is your most loyal friend?My boyfriend, admin izzy, and admin Nicole

72. Are you in a relationship? YES! 

73. If you have a boyfriend/girlfriend, what is your favorite thing about him/her? He’s an idiot, in the cute way. Jordan is himself and i love him for that.

74. Are you a bad person? No! I’m a good noodle

75. Are you a lover or a fighter? Lover, fuck fighting lol

76. What did you do on your last birthday? Family came to the house and we had Pizza and cake.

77. What is your favorite quote and why? Be still and know that I am God, because it is my late grandmother’s favorite verse in the bible. God is in charge and this life is a test, no matter how cruel. 

78. If your best friend died, what would you do? Obviously i’ll be sad! 

79. If you had to go back in time and change one thing, what would it be? Nothing because those mistakes helped me become the girl i am today.

80. If you only had 24 hours to live, what would you do? Hunt don Rebecca Suger and BTS 

81. What is the strangest dream you’ve ever had? I was choking an old woman…. DON’T ASK ME WHY

82. Are you happier single or in a relationship? Relationship, i have someone that i can tell all of my secrets to.

83. Who were you in a past life? A squirrel.

84. What is your happiest childhood memory? Going to see Chris Brown, Bow Wow and Soulja Boy

85. Have you ever experienced unrequited love? Uuuugh so many times! It’s sad lol.

86. Have you ever had an imaginary friend? Yes, his name was Andrew

87. If you were the president, what would you do? No become president because i ain’t finna get blames for the failure of our country.

88. What is your ideal career? Something that makes me happy.

89. What is your political affiliation? Democrat according to my parents…

90. Are you conservative or liberal? Libreral

91. Is the male or female body closest to perfection? Both, are bodies our made to create. But humans are bitches lol, we can’t survive in the wild for shit!! 

92. Do you like kissing in public? Pecks are fine, but making out gross. Save that for the bedroom.

93. If you could change one thing in the world, what would you change? The dying planet, we are killing Her.

94. Where would you like to live? Stable and on my own.

95. Where would you go on your dream vacation? Traveling the world, SAFELY 

96. Describe yourself in one word. Unique

97. Describe yourself in one sentence. I’m loyal until you give me a reason to not trust you.

~Admin Coco

[elainescookingforthesoul]

TRANSCRIPT for Episode 1.04 “Devin’s Three-Alarm Chili” (PART 1/2) 

ACT I

ELAINE

Hello and welcome back to Elaine's Cooking Podcast for the Soul, where we continue to post new and clear recipes for a post-nuclear society. I am your host Elaine Martínez. Listeners, I am especially thankful for your devoted attention this week, because after the second nuclear event we witnessed in part last episode, there are certainly better things you could be focusing on. Yes, the toxic cloud mass has drifted inland, settling appropriately right over Death Valley National Park. We are told that out of the 1,262 rangers, visitors, migrants, and permanent residents, nobody was hurt--before the effects of toxic radiation from the missile killed them immediately. Indeed, our fleshy exteriors are mere sponges for airborne radioactive materials, while the squishy insides enfolded in that flesh are simply not made to withstand such substances. Perhaps one day we'll develop better external defenses for our soft-shelled bodies. Or maybe we'll become better at internalizing the phrase "mutually assured destruction." Who knows? What is most important is understanding the shivering fragility of your short human life, and how to make the most of what's left. Which bring us to the joys of cooking! Let's get to work!

[POTS CLANG]

ELAINE: Tonight, I'm joined by a fellow survivor Devin Miller.

DEVIN: Howdy howdy howdy. 

ELAINE: We're sitting together here at the LA Dental Clinic, this time at the reception desk! Devin is one of the last remaining official mail carriers for the State.

DEVIN: Yeah, I was on my route to pick up your rations--

ELAINE: For new listeners: a portion of my rations are allocated to my senator as a way of paying my federal student loans. 

DEVIN: Oh tight. I thought you were sending them to your family members across state or something.

ELAINE: Nope, all my family is dead. 

DEVIN: Oh...less tight.

ELAINE: Please, continue.

DEVIN: Yeah, so then I hear the regular alarm start going off.

ELAINE: Honestly, I barely hear it anymore.

DEVIN: Same. Then it got to that real sinister register.

ELAINE: The ominous lower d-flat.

DEVIN: That's the one. That was when I started thinking, dang look at that sky! Maybe this is getting serious. Then came Phony Mitchell.

ELAINE: What's that now?

DEVIN: You know, it was like a bad Joni Mitchell that the State changed the words to a little so they could play it without paying for the rights. It's also a toilet paper ad? You know:

DEVIN: [SINGING] “Down it always seem to go but you don't know what you flushed til it's gone. We made paradise, by making it double ply....”

ELAINE: Phony Mitchell.

DEVIN: Right. But it was only after that babe stopped wailing, that I thought I better take cover. That's when I saw a couple kids running away from your office and thought the door might be unlocked. And you were right there waiting!

ELAINE: Yep, didn't even have time to lock the door. But it all brings us to our favorite dish this week--chili!

DEVIN: That's right, we've been chowing down on this simple recipe since the lockdown and subsequent 72-hour curfew that started right after the three alarms sounded.

ELAINE: And we don't have to remind you, folks, these curfews are enforced.

DEVIN: Yeah, and these robo-cops--

ELAINE: They're called Ad Ministers.

DEVIN: Right, these Ad Ministers patrolling all day and night freak me out, tbh. Here comes one now. See the silhouette against the boarded-up window?

ELAINE: It's only eight feet tall, I don't believe I could miss it if I tried.

An Ad Minister passes by the front of the LA Dental Clinic, loudly stomping and vocalizing as it approaches. Voice is muted slightly by the distance, but still clear.

AD MINISTER 2233: Don't let dirty laundry get ya down. Stay clean and fresh with Life's a Bleach!

ELAINE: It's been a week now, but I can't imagine a better partner to be locked down with. 

DEVIN: Of course, the alternative is in the tight embrace of an Ad Minister, but...

AD MINISTER 4447: Soft, creamy, delicious. INFO REDACTED cheddar cheese is the best because it's made right here in INFO REDACTED. God bless INFO REDACTED.

DEVIN

Ugh, I hate that Ad Minister. Get a new ad, buddy!

ELAINE: Folks, like I mentioned earlier, we're situated right here at the reception desk at the LA Dental Care.

DEVIN: I feel like we're newscasters.

ELAINE: Yes, while I generally prefer the ambiance of the main operating area, I think I'd like to keep an eye on the boarded windows and door for now. But I would love to start in on this recipe.

DEVIN: Let's do it. I'll fire up the hot plate here, you open the cans?

ELAINE: Oh, but we should explain what ingredients we have for the listeners.

DEVIN: Oh, duh. I forgot we had an audio audience. Today we are opening up three cans. One is a can of chili-seasoned diced tomatoes. 

ELAINE: The second can is that of simple red kidney beans.

DEVIN: The the third can is just regular black beans! 

ELAINE: And, I know we normally get a little more creative with things, but let me tell you. This is a simple--what's that phrase you say?

DEVIN: Simple A-F. It means "As Fuck." But just in case there are any kids listening, this recipe is simple A-F.

ELAINE: Indeed. And because the tomatoes are already packed with the chili seasoning, all the work is done for you. You just have to open the cans...like so...

[CAN OPENER]

DEVIN: Ignite your heat source, in our case a very old propane-powered portable hot plate.

[GAS/WHOOSH OF HOT PLATE]

[ANOTHER LID POPS OFF]

ELAINE: And then you just dump all three ingredients into the pot!

[CAN OPENER]

[ANOTHER LID POPS OFF]

DEVIN: Now, because it's just the two of us--

ELAINE: And because we do have just a very small one-quart pot--

DEVIN: We are literally just halving the recipe by using half of each can. 

[CAN CONTENTS POUR INTO POT]

ELAINE: Right. I really cannot overstate how delicious and filling this recipe is.

DEVIN: No joke. I'd even eat this if there weren't a nuclear apocalypse followed by a ruthlessly aggressive police state going on. 

ELAINE: Well, there is hardly higher praise than that, though generally we steer away from explicitly recognizing the current regime lest they--

DEVIN: Shh. Turn the hot plate off.

[FLAME SPUTTERS OFF]

ELAINE: What is it? Why is that Ad Minister stopped in front of the window?

DEVIN

I don't think that's an Ad Minister, Elaine.

CAPTAIN KRAUSE: Ad Ministers 5277 through 5278 assemble. Boots stomp and congregate in from of the LA Dental Clinic, sounding off their ads, overlapping as they approach.

AD MINISTER 5277: Plastic wrap doesn't have to be plastic crap! Ditch the generic brand and--

AD MINISTER 5278: Coca Cola stopped using amphetamines ages ago, but not us! Reach for a--

CAPTAIN KRAUSE: On mute.

CAPTAIN KRAUSE: State current mission.

AD MINISTERS: RECONNAISSANCE, GENERAL ADVERTISING, FACIAL SCANNING, SEARCHING FOR WARRANTED FUGIT--

CAPTAIN KRAUSE: Edit mission.

AD MINISTERS: VOCAL RECOGNITION ENTRY REQUIRED.

CAPTAIN KRAUSE: Captain R.J. Krause. 

[THREE BLOOPS]

AD MINISTERS: VOCAL RECOGNITION FAILED. TRY AGAIN?

CAPTAIN KRAUSE: CAPTAIN R. J. KRAUSE. 

[TWO BLOOPS]

AD MINISTERS: CONFIRMED. WELCOME CAPTAIN KRAUSE. IT LOOKS LIKE YOU WANT TO EDIT A MISSION. WOULD YOU LIKE SOME HELP?

CAPTAIN KRAUSE: NO. Ugh, I cannot wait until you useless hunks of metal get upgraded. Let's say seek...hm. No. Undo...Capture and deliver...

CAPTAIN KRAUSE:...Eight large cheese pizzas, six large meat supreme pizzas, and one large Hawaiian pizza from the nearest Little Caesars. To headquarters.

[CONFIRMATION BLOOP]

AD MINISTERS: Confirmed. Will deliver in approximately...45 minutes.

[AD MINISTERS BOOTS MARCH AWAY]

CAPTAIN KRAUSE: Forty five minutes! Absolutely unbelievable. Hot and ready my foot... 

[CAPT. KRAUSE WALKS AWAY]

ELAINE: Okay maybe we should take a little break.

DEVIN: No kidding, you don't have any cigarettes do you? 

ELAINE: No. 

DEVIN: Oh right. I mean, in case there are kids listening...you don't have any magical death sticks, do you?

ELAINE: Still no. Listeners, we'll be right back after this brief break. Be still, stay calm. We will return to your ears in just a few short moments.

END OF ACT I

INTERLUDE/AD BREAK

[MUSICAL RIFF]

ELAINE: Listeners, this episode is brought to you once again by the A-Path. The A-Path is the only totally neutral non-existent-organization that allows you to register as a person that simply does not care about the outcome of battling factions and brutal bids for power. Pledge Allegiance to The Flag, The News, or The Industry? Okay, but that excludes you from pledging allegiance to the ultimate indifference of the A-Path. Perks of signing up include indemnity from the triumphant party, should you not cause trouble and survive. Sign up for a 90 day free trial in which a grand jury will review the details of your personal and professional background and declare you to be either suitably indifferent or ultimately condemned to a life of servitude and/or gruesome dismemberment by the victorious party. Come by Ted's Bread store and get "apathy" with us! Now back to the show.

[MUSICAL RIFF]

[stickthatinyourstraw]

Beginnings

I’m going to start journaling here on my ole tumblr account. For anyone who still follows me, if this isn’t your thing, you’re welcome to go. I just need to find a new way to release some thoughts and energy on a regular basis. Who knows how often I’ll even get around to it. Ideally daily would be great, but considering how scatter-brained I really am, it’s unlikely. This’ll be a kinda stream of consciousness type thing, where I don’t go back and edit it, I just post what I’ve written.

So I guess I’ll start with what makes me want to do this in the first place; I don’t know how to deal with my own emotions or thoughts, and I feel like venting about it to no one on the internet might make me feel better. I went out with Wyatt tonight, and it all just stressed me out. To set the background, and so I’ll remember with context later; today was a chill day at work, I got to go in when I wanted for just education, so I slept in and grabbed Starbucks on my way in. Nothing particularly special happened, except for some sweet gossip that I love to hate; Jerenda is moving from her manager position to be a CCU nurse. I imagine that’s a pay cut, and I’m surprised Debbie is letting her go, but she must really be suffering like the rest of us were (and some still are). I asked Cassie to get with her old contacts in CCU and give me updates on how she does, more specifically if she fails, so I can report back to all my old buddies on the floor. She deserves every ounce of shit she gets up there. The rest of my work day was generally uneventful, but I ended up coming home to a paper towel confettied mess, because Wyatt hadn’t put the boys up this morning like he usually does. Not a huge deal, but I can’t find the damn broom, so I’m going to leave it for him to see and clean up, though it does stress me out every time I go out there. If I just ignore it, it doesn’t exist, right? Wyatt came home after with his car back out of the shop, he had some thing done to soften the ride and raise the suspension or whatever, but they ended up somehow fucking it up and lowering the damn thing even more. Now you can’t even fit a finger in the wheel well. I’ll admit that the ride was smoother, however even the slightest bumps sounded like the entire undercarriage of the car drug on the ground. So we rode out to the Habitat for Humanity food truck fest at the baseball stadium to meet Dad for some dinner. I got a giant redneck cup full of sweet tea, and Wyatt had a couple beers. He had Mahi tacos from Wrighteous Eats, I had a macaroni and pulled pork grilled cheese from Who Cut the Grilled Cheese? All in all, pretty good stuff. Dad wasn’t hungry, and Wyatt wanted to get to his buddy John’s car meet, so we left around 7. Now, I used to take a lot of issue with his driving style, because he tends to speed and take turns and corners too quickly for my liking, but since he put new tires on and stiffened the suspension in the Accord, it gripped a lot better and I felt I could trust it more. Well, it’s been raining for the last two days, so it’s damn wet outside, and I don’t care how much grip your tires have, if you go too fast on a turn, you’re putting not only us in danger, but other people as well. He flew down 110 at about 70, driving past a wreck with an overturned truck and a few state troopers. I felt it would’ve been smarter not to speed past the troopers, but whatever. We get to 29 and he has to do a fly by for the boys, so he hauls ass at like 70 down the 45 zone to get some good muffler noises, then does a U-turn and comes up to the shop. As soon as we get out of the car (whose door I’ve just locked), he and Rylan jump into a souped up Civic and go for a ride. I barely got an “I’ll be right back, love you babe!” before he hopped in and they took off in the little red fart can. 5 minutes go by and I’m getting antsy, standing in a mechanic’s parking lot with a bunch of strangers in the dark, waiting for my doofus boyfriend to get back. I text him and tell him, “I am not interested in hanging out here alone with strangers.” He replied with “I’ll be back in a sec, they needed me to buy beer.” Okay, fine. He’s gone almost another ten minutes, and needless to say, I hadn’t arrived in the greatest mood as it was. They get back, and I’m audibly irritated with him, and he asks if I’m mad at him for going, and I say that I kinda am for just immediately taking off and leaving me alone with strangers for 15 minutes. He tells me to “calm down”, which we all know how well that works out. He says “whatever dude”, my favorite pet peeve phrase out of his mouth, and walks off to put the beer away. He then goes to talk to this kid who’s bought himself a piece of shit Accord and proceeds to give him the old coilovers off his car that he’d had replaced today. The kid (19) is super excited, and proceeds to gush about his Accord to Wyatt, who’s just thrilled to have someone with the same car as him. Wyatt takes him for a ride in his car to show it off, and I stay behind because I have no interest in being complicit in his going 80 down Hwy 29. Two different groups of guys were making shitty remarks about Wyatt’s car, and though I couldn’t make out specific sentences, I could hear the snickering about how slow he was. They made fun of him. All I could think of was that I hoped no one knew I was his girlfriend. I didn’t want to be made fun of too, nor did I want to make anyone stop talking about it. I wanted to hear their unfiltered and unbiased opinions. Those opinions were not nice. Then they got back and Wyatt asked if he could go for a ride in the kid’s car, and though I gave him a dirty look, I wanted him to just do it and get it over with. He saw my face and told the kid “maybe another day” but I whispered “he has the mental maturity of a 4 year old, just go with him and make his fuckin day.” They left, the kid’s muffler dragging against the ground the whole way. Once again, all I could think of was “please for the love of God no one acknowledge that I know half of the brain power in that vehicle.” They made endless fun of that shit bucket car, even after they came back. Wyatt did get a semi-backhanded compliment from Rylan about his car from the ordeal, “This car is a piece of shit. Accords are not all pieces of shit, because your car isn’t a piece of shit, but this car is.” That made Wyatt happy, which is all I ask for. Now, note that this entire time we’ve been here, and I mean since we rolled up into the parking lot, I’ve had to pee. I’m on my period, so I’m already bloated, and I just finished about a quart of sweet tea and a giant grilled cheese and tots, so I’m busting at the seams here. He asks if I want him to take me home so I can pee, but I don’t necessarily want to abandon him and leave, I just want to go somewhere relatively clean, not the mechanic’s bathroom in the shop that I’ve just seen three kids running in and out of and playing in. No thanks. But eventually I just give in and let him take me home, and here we are. Writing to you, the void. It’s nice to just sit here on my computer, on the couch, in my own home, in the dark and the quiet, with three relatively calm dogs at my sides. Cali popped up out of a box and scared the shit out of Shep, so I’ve had something to laugh at.

I need to try and study a bit for the HESI and then sign up to take it next week so I can get my dumbass into school. I don’t really know what I want anymore. I want to help people, and I think I want to do it via emergency medicine, but I honestly don’t know if I’m equipped to handle that. Sure, I love the blood and guts in videos and shit, but what about in real life? I haven’t had a chance to see a real surgery yet, and with the way that I’ve handled things in the past, I’m nervous I’ll be too weak for it. Plus, going back to 3 12s every week and working those long and miserable hours on my feet with a bunch of grouchy ass patients. I really like the whole unconscious patients thing, they haven’t got much room to talk back. The other thing I’m worried about with nursing is being able to even get through school. Sure, if Glenn can get through it, I imagine I can too. But how do I learn all those medications? The abnormal heart rhythms? The various symptoms and variations of diseases and their processes? In just four semesters? How do I manage all that in such a limited time? I’ve never been particularly good in school, and I’m lazy as all hell, with my “if you don’t know it by now, there’s no point in studying any more” bullshit mentality. I know I shouldn’t be like that with schooling that determines my career, but I can’t help myself but not give a shit. It’s been almost a week since registration for the summer opened up and I still haven’t signed up for a class. I don’t know how I’ll be paying for it either, with the lack of Florida prepaid left over at this point. I’ve only got 37 hours left, but thankfully only need 42 hours for this AA. Beyond that, I’m shit outta luck. 

I’m just not feeling the motivation for anything. I don’t know if it’s that I don’t feel motivation any more, or that I never felt it to begin with. I wasn’t motivated in middle school or high school, and certainly not the first time around in college classes. But I just don’t feel motivation to do things that I enjoy. It reminds me a lot of when I would come straight home from school and just sink into the couch to watch Netflix until late at night, without bothering to do much homework or any studying, much less any self care. I don’t have the motivation to shower every day, I don’t remember to brush my teeth every morning if I don’t go to work like normal, I never wear makeup and usually don’t brush my hair. I never eat breakfast or enjoy my coffee or wake up at the first alarm without snoozing. I don’t play videogames anymore, and I don’t have much interest in plants anymore. I don’t keep up with my part of house work and yet still get frustrated with Wyatt when he doesn’t do his part. I neglect my old passions and belongings. I don’t try. I don’t really care, even. I just feel so empty sometimes. I feel like I have a hole in my stomach, like I’ve tried to fill a void with hobbies and interests and food and friends, and nothing ever seems to work, or at least not for long. I’m not really depressed right now, but maybe it’s just that it’s grown into something different. Maybe this constant emptiness is my new form of deep sadness. I don’t cry a lot anymore, and I haven’t been suicidal in a couple months. Even when I have been sad lately, I’ve thought about the idea of suicide taking away the pain, but it just doesn’t feel like the right solution anymore.  I guess that’s a good thing, not wanting to die, even if I don’t really feel like I am living. I’m just so upset about everything all the time. I’m worried I’m too handsy and mean with the dogs. It breaks my heart every time I raise my hand to Lillie and she cowers, and I know that I’m the one who’s done that to her. I don’t beat her, but I’ve used my hands to train, and I know it’s wrong. I guess that makes me one of the bad guys. I hate myself for it, because I can’t control myself in the moment, I just see this blind rage and I lash out at the object of my anger, and then afterwards realize I was wrong in handling it the way I did. Do I even deserve these dogs? Sheppy paces out of boredom, and I’m worried Lillie will end up doing the same. They’re just so high energy, and I’m so not, I can’t motivate myself to take care of them the way I know they deserve. I hate myself sometimes. This is one of those moments where I wish I could just die, but I know I don’t want to. I don’t know what to do with myself anymore. I think I’ll schedule another appointment with Dr. Kim and talk it out with her. I really need help with Wyatt most of all. I’m worried about him, and I’m worried about the way I treat him. He absolutely deserves better than I’m giving him, but I couldn’t stand to lose him. He really is my whole world, but like with Lillie, when he aggravates me, I just lose all sense of right and wrong and just go with an aggressive and hateful base instinct of doing what I want. I’m trying to be better, but I feel like since I’ve stopped therapy, I’ve slid back some. I haven’t been so kind, patient, and forgiving. He deserves that much from me, when I know he does the same for me.

Anyway, at this point, I’m just rambling thoughts of things that have come to mind lately, and I think this is sufficient for the first journal post. If you’re a follower and you’ve made it this far, I’m so sorry for you, it was not worth it bud. But for me when I come back and read this later, be more forgiving to him. He didn’t mean it that way, he didn’t intend to make you feel like that, he didn’t mean to upset or bother you. Sometimes he’s just oblivious, and he still can’t read your mind. Give him the patience he deserves, and the love and support and acceptance he needs. Give more of yourself to him, don’t be selfish, share a little.

Cheers

[teriharriet4-blog]

Cognitive Progression Activities For 3 To 5 Year Olds.

Many people feel that one year of a dog's live is equal to seven human years. And also some more mature moms and dads connect and also obtain warm and comfortable reviews off their youngsters on Facebook. Since Dingiswayo wouldn't accept from that, I assume the authentic reason is actually that it would certainly be actually hard for amaZulu to fight versus amaHlubi. The children will certainly live skill-sets and also they will certainly recognize me. I will definitely not duplicate the exact same habits of past. Today (presently 2015!) I acquired a character off ICA requesting me to generate the K kind immediately to shut the scenario. " He mentioned how tough that was as a kid to find out in one discussion that the magic was actually gone and he had been actually existed to," Hutchinson explained, adding that she really did not wish her kids to experience by doing this and http://healthy-dietsupplement.info/%E0%B8%8A%E0%B8%B1%E0%B9%89%E0%B8%99%E0%B9%80%E0%B8%9F%E0%B8%B4%E0%B8%A3%E0%B9%8C%E0%B8%A1%E0%B8%A1%E0%B8%B4%E0%B9%88%E0%B8%87%E0%B8%AA%E0%B8%B3%E0%B8%AB%E0%B8%A3%E0%B8%B1%E0%B8%9A%E0%B8%8A%E0%B8%B1 also didn't desire all of them to presume Christmas was actually everything about around offers. I can inform you just how Princess or queen as well as Thug kept under the table throughout the day Sunday while our company played poker and also simply pulled dick all day long, moving from someone to the upcoming, and how they should possess both swallowed a quart from cum that day, or even exactly how Mike acquired aggravated with Cookie Monster considering that he only would not quit wailing whenever an individual fucked him, therefore he cashed out from the casino poker video game as well as fucked the 5 years of age 4 times over the next 2 hours, forcing Biscuit Monster to clean his penis off and suck him hard once again between each fuck. She is therefore powerful as well as i determined to discuss my account online that Princess Hanna is actually effective and also actual streak caster that i are going to always pray to live long to aid his children throughout difficulty, if you are actually listed here as well as you require your Ex back or your spouse relocated or even your spouse to one more female or even guy, perform not wail anymore, get in touch with this highly effective time caster right now. THE GOD DRIZZLED FIRE AND BRIMSTONE UPON THOSE AREAS As Well As COMPLETELY DESTROYED THOSE CITIZENS SINCE THE CITIES WERE SO THOROUGHLY SODOMITE THAT THE LORD NEEDED TO DESTROY THE DEVILS AND ALSO EVIL ONE POSSESSED SOULS TO MAKE SURE THAT THEY COULD NOT SEDUCE THE LITTLE ONES As Well As PUSH THE CHILDREN IN TO SODOMY. No matter exactly what you think she can have done to run away, the condition is actually that this grown man and also pastor drove a senior high school lady which was in his care right into the hardwoods under the pretext from getting her home safely, took his penis out apropos from nothing and unheralded, and also asked for that the female suck it. Not his partner or even a female he had actually shown intimate interest in prior to or after the occasion, mind you, however a student of his ministry that had no need to assume a sex-related shuck and jive up until the moment this happened. Though the temple is open from 7 AM to 11 AM in the early morning, that is well to go to by 9 AM for the early morning pooja as well as exist till it mores than through 9:45 or so. The bajans and also namasankeerthans are vocalized during daily pooja as well as everyone will definitely like this. Yet another important quality from the product packaging is actually to supply kids along with accounts concerning other video games and also playthings from heroes' animations. Adoptees want you to know their expertise is real which no person can "correct" that. This's complicated for moms and dads to see their little ones have a problem with the difficulties of adopting. The unusual appeals as well as opinions I received over times from people we understood that I 'd refused considering that I thought they were actually simply having a negative day or even they had mixed me up with other people all made sense when our son pointed out, Mommy, you do not know what he's been actually saying about you. Currently there is no temple in the location, a minar was created there certainly by muslim intruders as well as currently the area is actually under the security from Archaeological culture of India, the door was latched when we checked the means inside our company familiarized that access was banned right into the holy place (the therefore gotten in touch with minar) as a result of surveillance factors, yet there were actually apparent and significantly distinguishable features at the main door from the building revealing that it was as soon as the primary entry from a Hindu temple probably from Shrinkhala Devi. As you understand from emails I have actually created you I also can easily connect to a lot of the reviews your readers have actually left you about really feeling forgotten or unpopular. Annually near 5,000 English public servers (imperial staffs as well as staff,) viceroys, military fastens, servers, better halves as well as little ones created the tiring 1,200 miles trip from Calcutta to Simla.

[altalemur]

the Voltron team as Skippy’s List

Shiro

2. My proper military title is “The Black Paladin” not “Princess Anastasia”.

23. Must never ask anyone who outranks me if they’ve been smoking crack.

35. Not allowed to sing “High Speed Dirt” by Megadeth during airborne operations. (“See the earth below/Soon to make a crater/Blue sky, black death, I’m off to meet my maker”)

36. Can’t have flashbacks to wars I was not in. (The Spanish-American War isn’t over).

52. Not allowed to yell “Take that Cobra” at the rifle range.

67. I am not the Psychological Warfare Mascot.

95. I am not in need of a more suitable host body.

100. Claymore mines are not filled with yummy candy, and it is wrong to tell new soldiers that they are.

114. I cannot trade my CO to the Galra.

124. Two drink limit does not mean first and last.

125. Two drink limit does not mean two kinds of drinks.

126. Two drink limit does not mean the drinks can be as large as I like.

147. I should not threaten suicide with pop rocks and Coke ®.

148. Putting red “Mike and Ike’s” ® into a prescription medicine bottle, and then eating them all in a formation is not funny.

172. “A full magazine and some privacy” is not the way to help a potential suicide.

206. Not allowed to get shot.

Sven

11. Not allowed to join the Communist Party.

12. Not allowed to join any militia.

13. Not allowed to form any militia.

66. There is no “Anti-Mime” campaign in the galaxy.

69. May not pretend to be a fascist stormtrooper, while on duty.

95. I am not in need of a more suitable host body.

106. I may not trade my rifle for any of the following: Cigarettes, booze, sexual favors, Kalishnikovs, Soviet Armored vehicles, small children, or bootleg CD’s.

147. I should not threaten suicide with pop rocks and Coke ®.

148. Putting red “Mike and Ike’s” ® into a prescription medicine bottle, and then eating them all in a formation is not funny.

162. Past lives have absolutely no effect on the chain of command.

206. Not allowed to get shot.

Hunk

31. Not allowed to let sock puppets take responsibility for any of my actions.

32. Not allowed to let sock puppets take command of my post.

33. Not allowed to chew gum at formation, unless I brought enough for everybody.

34. (Next day) Not allowed to chew gum at formation even if I *did* bring enough for everybody.

49. Not allowed to trade military equipment for “magic beans”.

50. Not allowed to sell magic beans during duty hours.

55. An order to “Put Kiwi on my boots” does *not* involve fruit.

84. Must not use military vehicles to “Squish” things.

88. Must not refer to Allura as “Mom”.

89. Must not refer to Shiro as “Dad”.

97. Gozer does not dwell in my refrigerator.

160. No part of the military uniform is edible.

161. Bodychecking General officers is not a good idea.

183. My chain of command has neither the time, nor the inclination to hear about what I did with six boxes of Fruit Roll-Ups. ®

184. When operating a military vehicle I may *not* attempt something “I saw in a cartoon”.

190. Must not make s’mores while on guard duty.

191. Our Humvees cannot be assembled into a giant battle-robot.

Lance

1. Not allowed to watch Southpark when I’m supposed to be working.

6. Not allowed to play “Pulp Fiction” with a suction-cup dart pistol and any officer.

18. May no longer perform my now (in)famous “Barbie Girl Dance” while on duty.

37. Our medic is called Coran, not “Dr. Feelgood”.

38. Our supply Sgt is Coran not “Sugar Daddy”.

43. Camouflage body paint is not a uniform.

45. I am not allowed to “Go to Bragg boulevard and shake daddy’s little money maker for twenties stuffed into my undies”.

48. I may not use public masturbation as a tool to demonstrate a flaw in a command decision.

71. I must not flaunt my deviances in front of my chain of command.

83. Must not start any SITREP (Situation Report) with “I recently had an experience I just had to write you about….”

87. If the thought of something makes me giggle for longer than 15 seconds, I am to assume that I am not allowed to do it.

88. Must not refer to Allura as “Mom”.

89. Must not refer to Shiro as “Dad”.

113. There is absolutely no need to emulate the people from “Full Monty” every time I hear the song “Hot Stuff”.

115. I should not speculate on the penis size of anyone who outranks me.

131. No dancing in the turret. This especially applies in conjunction with rule #113.

143. I do not need to keep a “range card” by my window.

145. I should not drink three quarts of blue food coloring before a urine test.

156. I will no longer perform “lap-dances” while in uniform.

157. If I take the uniform off, in the course of the lap-dance, it still counts.

159. When detained by MP’s, I do not have a right to a strip search.

166. No, the pants are not optional.

175. We do not “charge into battle, naked, like the Celts”.

199. I should not confess to crimes that took place before I was born.

201. Must not valiantly push officers onto hand grenades to save the squad.

207. The green goo is *not* a personal lubricant. 

Keith

16. Must get a haircut even if it tampers with my “Samson like powers”.

41. “Keep on Trucking” is *not* a psychological warfare message.

47. I am not a citizen of Texas, and those other, forty-nine, lesser states.

53. Not allowed to quote “Full Metal Jacket “ at the rifle range.

60. “The Giant Space Ants” are not at the top of my chain of command.

68. I may not line my helmet with tin foil to “Block out the space mind control lasers”.

78. I may not call block my chain of command.

86. May not challenge anyone in my chain of command to the “field of honor”.

88. Must not refer to Allura as “Mom”.

89. Must not refer to Shiro as “Dad”.

96. “Redneck Zombies” is not a military training aid.

101. I am not allowed to mount a bayonet on a crew-served weapon.

105. I am not allowed to bum cigarettes off of anyone under twelve.

115. I should not speculate on the penis size of anyone who outranks me.

118. Burn pits for classified material are not revel fires – therefore it is wrong to dance naked around them.

130. “I’m drunk” is a bad answer to any question posed by my commander.

136. Shouting “Let’s do the village! Let’s do the whole fucking village!” while out on a mission is bad.

137. Should not show up at the front gate wearing part of a Blade of Marmora uniform, messily drunk.

138. Even if my commander did it.

141. Not allowed to use a broadsword to disprove “The Pen is Mightier than the sword”.

146. Nor should I drink three quarts of red food coloring, and scream during a urine test.

171. On training missions, try not to shoot down the General’s helicopter.

179. On Garrison documents, my race is not “Other”.

193. The Masons, and Gray Aliens are not in our chain of command.

196. I am not allowed to give tattoos.

198. Not allowed to lead a “Coup” during training missions.

208. Not allowed to play into the deluded fantasies of the civilians who are “hearing conversations” from the NSA, FBI, CIA and KGB due to the microchip the aliens implanted in their brain.

Pidge

7. Not allowed to add “In accordance with the prophesy” to the end of answers I give to a question an officer asks me.

8. Not allowed to add pictures of officers I don’t like to War Criminal posters.

15. Not allowed to train adopted stray dogs to “Sic Brass!”

19. May not call any officers immoral, untrustworthy, lying, slime, even if I’m right.

24. Must not tell any officer that I am smarter than they are, especially if it’s true.

54. “Napalm sticks to kids” is *not* a motivational phrase.

56. An order to “Make my Boots black and shiny” does not involve electrical tape.

59. May not make posters depicting the leadership failings of my chain of command.

75. May not conduct psychological experiments on my chain of command.

88. Must not refer to Allura as “Mom”.

89. Must not refer to Shiro as “Dad”.

103. My commander is not old enough to have fought in the civil war, and I should stop implying that he did.

104. Vodka, green food coloring, and a “Cool Mint” Listerine® bottle is not a good combination.

117. Must not use government equipment to bootleg pornography.

122. Radioactive material should not be stored in the barracks.

129. The Microsoft ® “Dancing Paperclip” is not authorized to countermand any orders.

151. The proper way to report to my Commander is “Green Paladin, reporting as ordered, Sir” not “You can’t prove a thing!”

154. Shouldn’t treat “piss-bottles” with extra-strength icy hot.

173. I am not allowed to create new levels of security clearance.

174. Furby ® is not allowed into classified areas. (I swear to the gods, I did not make that up, it’s actually DOD policy).

181. Pokémon® trainer is not an MOS.

194. Shouldn’t take incriminating photos of my chain of command.

195. Shouldn’t use Photoshop ® to create incriminating photos of my chain of command.

Allura

3. Not allowed to threaten anyone with black magic.

4. Not allowed to challenge anyone’s disbelief of black magic by asking for hair.

28. Don’t take the batteries out of the other soldiers alarm clocks (Even if they do hit snooze about forty times).

30. Not allowed to wake an Non-Commissioned Officer by repeatedly banging on the head with a bag of trash.

46. I am not authorized to fire officers.

79. I am neither the king nor queen of cheese.

80. Not allowed to wear a dress to any army functions.

102. Rodents are not entitled to burial with full military honors, even if they are “casualties of war”.

186. I am not the Empress of anything.

201. Must not valiantly push officers onto hand grenades to save the squad.

Coran

20. Must not taunt the Unilu any more.

21. Must attempt to not antagonize SAS.

22. Must never call an SAS a “Wanker”.

39. Not allowed to ask for the day off due to religious purposes, on the basis that the world is going to end, more than once.

63. Command decisions do *not* need to be ratified by a 2/3 majority.

85. Not allowed to make any Psychological Warfare products depicting the infamous Ft. Bragg sniper incident.

123. I should not teach other soldiers to say offensive and crude things in Altean, under the guise of teaching them how to say potentially useful phrases.

132. The loudspeaker system is not a forum to voice my ideas.

133. The loudspeaker system is not to be used to replace the radio.

155. Teaching Altean children to taunt other soldiers is not nice.

189. Do not dare Paladins to eat bugs. They will always do it.

Matt

10. Not allowed to purchase anyone’s soul on government time.

12. Not allowed to join any militia.

13. Not allowed to form any militia.

42. Not allowed to attempt to appeal to mankind’s baser instincts in recruitment posters.

57. The proper response to a lawful order is not “Why?”

62. It is better to beg forgiveness than to ask permission, no longer applies to me.

77. The MP checkpoint is not an Imperial Stormtrooper roadblock, so I should not tell them “You don’t need to see my identification, these are not the droids you are looking for.”

94. Crucifixes do not ward off Galra, and I should not test that.

99. A smiley face is not used to mark a minefield.

119. I cannot arrest children for being rude.

158. The revolution is not now.

203. “To conquer the earth with an army of flying monkeys” is a bad long term goal to give the re-enlistment NCO.