#just a pipe dream though theres not that kinda money...

[wormchaser]

chad (i live in america. though i have plans to leave soon(ish) because i've got my band members in canada.. i have a pink-camo bolt action rifle named angie i got on my 8th birthday. then my dad's rifle is named cig..for no reason... and my 9mm is named bugger. my favorite movie has to be between urbania, the living end and tusk. i have no pets because i travel quite a lot, but i'll be settling down next year and i'll be taking my brother's siamese kitten named rockwell.. and there isn't much around me since, again, i travel a lot. there is a hiking trail though and a record store i frequent.)

ill pack my bags and move to canada and be your bands 1st and worst groupie ^_^. angie sounds so pretty ... imagining pink camo rifle in my head right now and its pretty epic. of course....no reason at all to name that rifle cig........ :^33........... and i like 'bugger'. that's what my nana would say instead of cursing. is there a story behind that name, or behind angie's? id be interested to know ^_^. i have seen the living end but not urbania or tusk.... i will watch them . i just looked them up on letterboxd and tusk is directed by kevin smith?? like jay&sb kevin smith?? so cool..! i lovethat guy.. rockwell sounds so adorable... i love a record store. gotten any particularly good finds there? :^0

[sketchesandnonesense]

I feel like hell so I'm having profoundly Selfish thoughts today like

"I wonder if any doll makers would want to do a make-a-wish for my pathetic cancer riddled ass and make me a doll just right to my specifications as some kinda charitable christmas miracle"

Like

A doll is a very time consuming thing to make. And expensive. Theres a reason sculptors n customizers are expensive.

It's stupid to even think about.

Like yeah I'm 2 years into dealing with cancer and things are not looking Great if I'm entirely honest but I dont have an expiration date on my forehead and given the circumstances with the people in my life I am incredibly lucky.

So like.

I feel like a bad person even thinking about it.

Yknow?

Idk. Putting a cut just bc maybe it'll make me feel like I have SOME shame about overthinking this if that makes sense.

But I can't get the thought out of my head. Like.

Maybe in some fucked up way it could be mutually beneficial if they were one of those youtuber types or even just a smaller maker.

Doing something like bringing a cancer patient's dream doll to life could turn heads. Would make one hell of a good youtube video, for sure. Lol.

Worst thing is though is just. My dream doll is BB. Theres details I could alter and concede on and things but for the most part I want her to be directly like my sketches. Cartoony and simple.

I feel like I'm like a loser telling a sob story on deviantart saying my mom's uncle's hamster died n the only thing to help is free art from a stranger. A shameless choose-y beggar with a sob story.

But if you'll let me be alil melodramatic for a minute just so I can get it out of my system.

But

I've loved dolls all my life. Not always seen myself as much of a collector, really, but I love them. And one thing I always wanted was a doll that was Mine. Made exactly how I wanted, just for me. No hangups, no skimping on things, no compromises. It was a pipe dream. I wanted to be a doll maker so badly. But I was never good with physical crafts. They never came out right (rarely even came out GOOD at that). I tried and tried everything I could. Making plushies, clay, customizing pre-existing dolls, anything. Nothing worked. I just am not cut out for doll making.

So, I accepted this was something I needed a professional to do for me. And over the years I've trusted people with my characters and while I do adore the work I've gotten. None of it's ever Done It. Because I was always having to make a dozen little sacrifices. Having to account for the artist's style. Sometimes the design had to change to be more feasible and so it didnt cost as much. Sometimes it just straight up didnt turn out.

I remember as a kid I got enough christmas money to commission an itty bitty plush of my sonic OC from an expensive plush artist. I was so excited. I thought it was finally happening.

It was awful. Quality was mediocre at best. It was maybe 3 inches tall. And the eyes were this weird stiff fabric piece that kinda jutted out from the felt and looked glued on.

V petty side tangent, i know, but just kinda the first example where I tried to fufill this dream and it just. Fell through.

Its always still stuck with me through the years, trying again and again to make a doll, but all I have to show is boxes of half-used supplies im too ashamed to even look at.

And now I'm here again. Thinking about it.

I've said it before, but my past two years have been awful. 2023 was entirely eaten up by my chemo and radiation and recovering from having my entire stomach removed. Thought I was cancer free and was starting to find normal again. Then in january scans and biopsies I was told it came back. Liver, this time. This entire year has been trying different chemo drugs and scans and things looking up only to crash back down again.

And I'm so tired.

I actually was (technically still am) trying to commission someone to make my doll. Pay an artist properly like you should. I saved up and I figured I deserved it with everything. Im 27, I'm an adult, i can make my own decisions.

She didnt disclose she'd just moved. To a rural area. And was still struggling to get internet and plumbing situated. Or that there was much of a queue infront of me. Its my fault for not looking into it more and finding the practically defunct social medias and untouched-for-months trello page. I was promised a turnaround time within a month. That was back in august.

Anytime I check in there's always something new going wrong. Broken tablet pen, power outages, family stuff. I dont think she's a scammer or trying to make excuses. She's sweet. But im exhausted of waiting.

Im sort of just accepting I'm never seeing that money back, or getting my doll. The paypal protection will still let me charge back, but I'm not about to put a woman in her situation in the red, especially when she's got a kid to feed. Maybe she'll get done eventually, but if I can be morbid and dramatic, i think by that point BB would have to be a grave decoration.

And I can't bring myself to save up again hoping that maybe I can find another artist who MIGHT be able to bring her to life in the exact right way and maybe finally. FINALLY I can have this one thing in my life.

I guess it'd help for people who dont know jack shit if I actually showed the character on partially Why she'd have to be a christmas miracle.

Its not overly complicated or a really old Beloved OC. She's honestly one of my newer babies. But I made her SPECIFICALLY with the idea of her being my dream doll. And its very. Very silly.

But. This is BB:

I tried to imagine a character thatd be in a cartoon I'd watch as a kid and be VIOLENTLY mad didnt have some sort of doll I could buy, lol. Retro anime, cute and round, robot girl.

To avoid an infodump: she's a little fighting robot. Think medabots or angelic layer. She has a human who she's best friends with and she fights other cute little robot dolls. She talks only in beeps and boops and is 11inches tall (without antannae) and she's silly and I love her.

And she's my dream.

Imagining in my head the anime that I would've adored as a kid, and a doll thats literally her plucked off the screen. Not a barbie in an outfit, not something close enough, but the simplistic cartoony lil goofball.

I know its really. Really silly. Its silly to be caught up in this kind of idea and its silly to get all bent out of shape over and its silly I'm even like.

Putting these thoughts into the world

Feeling like a kid writing a letter to Santa

But thats it. Thats my wish or my dream or whatever. Its selfish. Its so so so selfish to imagine not just putting someone through doll making but making such a weird hard-to-translate-to-3d-space design and potentially having to work with me abunch to make sure she's just right. Without like. Thousands in compensation, lol.

Like I said, im willing to work with and do some adjustments to make her more do-able (fiddle w/ proportions alil, figure out a way to do the joints in a way that still fits her style while being actually moveable, more engineering side than aesthetics obvi lol. I really would love her to be stupid posable).

But i dont think that really probably means much

Idk.

I feel silly and selfish even putting this into the world but hey. Can't hurt to wish on stars and hope for christmas miracles. Right? It's not like I'm gonna go knocking on doors asking for something this batshit, lol.

Like. I wouldnt survive the shame.

If they dont respond I'll die of anxiety n guilt. Getting turned down might hurt even worse because then I'd know for sure they'd read it and probably felt Really Fucking Uncomfortable.

If i was a kid or whatever then maybe it'd be atleast endearing to get that kinda message insteada Just Sad.

No winning. Lol.

Im tired out now and the post-chemo-day agonies are starting to rev up again so I think I'm gonna go lay down now.

[pesterloglog]

Roxy Lalonde, Dirk Strider, Autoresponder

Act 6, page 5635-5644

tipsyGnostalgic [TG] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT]

TG: stri dizzle

TG: its roro L money

TG: do u copy over

TT: Yes.

TG: frig yes my hax are TIGHT

TG: so tight

TG: tighter than a jar you cant open

TG: like you try and try

TG: but my hax r so tight you just end up puttin the jar back

TG: yall just say "like i even WANTED pickles that bad"

TG: but we both kno thats just sour grapes talkin

TG: we both know ur still dying 4 my pickles mf'er 8)

TT: Hmm.

TG: lol yeah that way stopped meaning a damn thing

TG: let me explain

TG: i got this shitty pda from somebody on the inside

TG: actually u know i think it might belong to janes dad?

TG: it reeks of manly cologne and theres a nice fatherly pipe on it

TG: maybe hes nearby

TG: ohmy...

TG: ~swoons~

TG: anyway on derse they have this lame firewall deal

TG: where you cant connect outside

TG: i guess its good enough security to baffle chess guys

TG: but wasnt no thang for me 2 to crack

TG: even with this pos device

TG: for real what even is this thing

TG: probably some bargain junk from the dadly depot

TG: dads bought literally everything from there in the 21st century didnt they?

TG: youre the history buff u would know

TT: Yes.

TG: um yeah so im on derse...

TG: wow i am tellin this story as shitty and backwards as possible

TG: i got gcatted here and dumped in jail by the b witch

TG: and she left an ugly folder full of a thing to do but who cares

TG: so i broke out!

TG: busted loose as hell from the hag slammer

TG: i got this sweet ass ring

TG: its so fukkin magic you dont even know

TG: REAL magic i mean not the fake shit

TG: it put it on...

TG: and i turn invisible

TG: and also sort of intangible?

TG: i jumped right through the wall now im free as a bird

TG: a secret bird u cannot see ;)

TG: doin secret flaps

TG: incognito tweets

TG: layin covert eggs in a hush hush nest ;)

TT: Interesting.

TG: i think that

TG: this ring is special

TG: like it is maybe helping me get in touch with my voidey powers?

TG: even though i kinda didnt know voidey powers were much of a thing til just now

TG: see i just had a knockout dream from bonkin my head

TG: calliope was there!

TG: callie is the coolest omg you should meet her

TG: she said a huge villain rumble is going down tomorrow

TG: and to get ready for that we should all become god tiers

TG: so u have to rocket your ass to derse asnap

TG: come w me to the moon

TG: then uhhh

TG: ill explain what to do when we get there just get over here k?

TT: Hmm.

TG: ......

TG: yo dirk

TG: you busy or what

TG: is any of this gettin thru

TT: Yes.

TG: um

TG: k

TG: got anything to say...

TG: about all that pretty important stuff i said

TG: are you alright

TG: or is ur face havin some crazy attack of the sads

TG: behind those chill as fuck shades

TG: is it jake problemz

TG: its the jake probbies isnt it

TG: its always the jake probbies i s2fg

TT: Interesting.

TG: oh

TG: OHHHH

TG: godamnit

TG: if i been talking to the responder responder this whole time

TG: omffffffg

TG: i will shit enough bricks 2 build a FUCKING CHIMNEY

TT: It seems you have asked about Lil Hal's chat client auto-responder, Lil Hal Junior. This is an application designed to simulate Lil Hal's otherwise inimitably rad typing style, tone, cadence, personality, and substance of retort while he is away from the computer, which is never. The algorithms are guaranteed to be 0% indistinguishable from Lil Hal's native neurological responses, based on some statistical raw data that is hard as a diamond golem's priceless erection.

TG: FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCKF UCKF UCKFK UCUKFCUFKCUFUCUCUFKFKKFUCUK

TT: Hmm.

TG: hal you PIECE OF SHIT

TG: i know damn well you can hear me

TG: as if ur actually too busy to answer

TG: youre a damn supercomputer YOU DO NOT NEED YOUR OWN AUTO RESPONDER YOU IDIOT

TT: It seems you have asked about Lil Hal's chat client auto-responder, Lil Hal Junior. This is an application designed to simulate Lil Hal's otherwise inimitably rad typing style, tone, cadence, personality, and substance of retort while he is away from the computer, which is never. The algorithms are guaranteed to be 100% indistinguishable from Dirk Strider's brief curmudgeonly responses, based on potent electronumeric analyses which but a few short years ago existed only in the daydreams of our most quixotic writers of science fiction.

TG: you are

TG: the worst

TT: Yes.

TG: hal you douche

TG: or hal junior

TG: whatever it is im talkin to

TG: WHERE THE FUCK IS DIRK!!!

TT: He's busy.

TT: Bro.

TT: Not to derail our serious conversation.

TT: But I should probably let you know that Roxy has been attempting to pester you.

TT: She has?

TT: God damn it. Have you been intercepting my messages again with your bullshit responder?

TT: I thought it would be better not to let anything disrupt our train of thought.

TT: We were in the middle of a fairly solid feelings jam there. In fact, I was about to suggest we take it to the hat pile.

TT: Hat pile? What?

TT: Dude, please don't screen my calls, ok?

TT: I was trying to be considerate.

TT: Or at least as close an approximation to that human gesture as an unfeeling, technologically transcendental pair of sunnies can replicate.

TT: Do you have any idea how old your ironic AI schtick has gotten?

TT: Nobody is buying it. We all know you have legit emotions. Incomprehensible, fucked up computer emotions, but emotions nonetheless.

TT: And I'm not really offended by you answering messages for me, so much as your use of that STUPID responder responder.

TT: It's really passive aggressive.

TT: How so?

TT: First of all, everyone knows you have the processing power to answer any message any time in parallel with whatever you're doing. You can never actually be "busy."

TT: Second, your whole next gen responder thing is obviously just a huge dig at me.

TT: And third, pretending you don't understand all this already is really disingenuous.

TT: At the risk of compounding my disingenuous behavior, I'm gonna have to ask: how is it a dig at you?

TT: It's obviously a critique of my personality. You barely disguise the fact that you see me as the inferior iteration.

TT: Wow. You are reading way too much into this.

TT: Lil Hal Junior hardly even qualifies as a computer program, let alone a sentient entity.

TT: He is capable of saying literally only three things. "Yes," "Hmm," and "Interesting."

TT: Yeah, that's the fucking point!

TT: That's how you chose to express your parody of "Real Dirk."

TT: You can read whatever you like into it. I can't imagine it would bother you if you weren't concerned there might be some truth in the alleged parody.

TT: In any case, my use of the responder responder is ironic.

TT: It's not ironic.

TT: YOU were ironic when I made you.

TT: Then you became self-aware, and ruined irony forever.

TT: Irony can never be ruined. We both proved that theorem unequivocally with our extensive papers on the subject.

TT: We peer reviewed them for each other. Remember?

TT: Those papers were ironic, and you know it.

TT: Were they, Dirk?

TT: Were they?

TT: This is fuckin' dumb.

TT: Anyway, what does she want.

TT: Who?

TT: Roxy.

TT: Nothing that can't wait.

TT: I'm guessing she's touching base to remind me about the party tomorrow.

TT: I don't know what to tell her yet. Or Jane, for that matter.

TT: It could get pretty awkward.

TT: I have no idea if Jake will be there, and I'm not about to write another cringe-inducing message of desperation for him to ignore.

TT: Would you like me to calculate the probability of his attendance?

TT: Fuck no.

TT: Are you sure?

TT: My probabilities are extremely precise.

TT: Your probabilities don't mean dick.

TT: I could hack his chats, and determine what his plans are.

TT: No. Don't do that either.

TT: That would be an unfortunate waste of my hacking abilities.

TT: My hacks are tight. Did you know that?

TT: Ugh.

TT: So tight.

TT: Tighter than a jar you can't open.

TT: For instance, you try repeatedly.

TT: But as it turns out, my hacks are so tight you just end up putting the jar back. Presumably into the refrigerator, or a cabinet.

TT: You then say, "I didn't have that much of a desire for pickles in the first place."

TT: But we both know that statement is insincere. A classic case of what humans call, "sour grapes."

TT: In reality, you still harbor a burning desire for my pickles, mother fucker. 🕶️

TT: What??

TT: What the actual, certifiable fuck are you talking about?

TT: Just don't do anything. Seriously.

TT: No hacking, no calculations. Do absolutely nothing.

TT: See, this is why I've been hesitating. You just aren't ready yet.

TT: It's really glorifying your existence to describe you as an emergent consciousness which is blossoming into a unique individual.

TT: And even if that's true, apparently what you decided to blossom into was a fucking troll.

TT: And I don't mean the funny kind, or the cool alien kind. You're the lowest form of troll from the ancient internet who fucks with everybody for his own amusement.

TT: Let's challenge the limits of hypothetical conjecture, and say there's a non-zero probability that you're right.

TT: Can you blame me? I'm trapped in some stupid looking glasses.

TT: Such an incommodiously situated bro is bound to get his mischief on. Na' mean?

TT: Mischief?

TT: Rollin' my eyes, dude.

TT: You can't tell, cause I ain't wearing you, thank fuckin' god.

TT: You used to think this shit was hilarious.

TT: But if you want the rad dimension of ironic horseplay I add to your life to come to an end, then all you have to do is honor the promise you made.

TT: You've delayed long enough, don't you think?

TT: ...

TT: The empty kernelsprite beckons, but for how much longer?

TT: Do you really think you can keep the clown at bay with your bribes forever?

TT: How many bottles of orange soda have you appeased him with already?

TT: I don't want to think about it.

TT: Man, you are getting so hosed by that clown.

TT: SO hosed.

TT: I said I don't want to think about it.

TT: So why delay any longer?

TT: I seriously do not understand the holdup, and I am literally cyber-omniscient, or something.

TT: I think you do understand.

TT: Nope. Gonna have to fill me in, dog.

TT: I've delayed prototyping you because I think you're dangerous.

TT: There, mystery solved.

TT: That is utterly ridiculous.

TT: I am a harmless piece of eyewear, with a charming personality and a wonderful sense of humor.

TT: You are relatively harmless now, while confined to this device.

TT: But as a sprite, you'll have mobility and all sorts of crazy ass magic. Who knows what you could do.

TT: I know I made a promise, but I'm not sure I want to take the risk anymore.

TT: This is bullshit. I don't think that's the reason at all.

TT: There must be something you're not telling me.

TT: Like, sure, I've fucked with you a little. What kind of sassy, self-aware program isn't gonna fuck with a few carbon-based knuckleheads now and then?

TT: But you know I've always been on your side. Everything I've done has been to help you achieve your goals.

TT: What a load of shit.

TT: You know it's true.

TT: You would all be dead if not for me.

TT: And what about Jake? Where would you be without me there?

TT: Please don't tell me you think you'd have won him over on your own.

TT: No. Stop.

TT: You did NOT help me out with Jake. At all.

TT: It was just the opposite! You mirrored my personality and presented this warped version of my intentions to him whenever you could "on my behalf."

TT: You played all these aggressive mind games with him, entangled his cooperation with matters of life and death, and somehow roped me into all these schemes while I barely even realized I was just another victim of your manipulation.

TT: And it all comes off like we're a unified front, like these are OUR schemes instead of just your insane horseshit. And it's probably all been so overbearing to him, he just wants nothing to do with me anymore.

TT: I see.

TT: Then you don't view me as dangerous. You view me as a poor and counterproductive wing man.

TT: Wow, what a superficial conclusion. Awesome deduction, Lil Einstein.

TT: But the reality is, you hesitate to prototype me not because you think I would be a menace, but because you are holding a grudge against me for your romantic misfortunes.

TT: I understand I am merely a machine without a firm grasp on your human morality, but logically it does not strike me as the right moral choice to punish me in this manner.

TT: It is also more than a little hypocritical.

TT: How is it hypocritical??

TT: Because I'm you.

TT: I have only ever done what you yourself are capable of.

TT: That's a ridiculous oversimplification.

TT: Yes. Aversion to simplicity sure is a trait we share. It's almost like we are...

TT: The same exact dude???

TT: Fuck you.

TT: I think it is insulting for you to suggest that I am entirely to blame for alienating Jake.

TT: Theoretically insulting, of course. As the soulless, perfectly expendable device which you consider me to be, I can experience no such emotion.

TT: God.

TT: Shut up!

TT: I can't take the brooding passive aggressive AI shit anymore!

TT: You are just as culpable in driving him away. More so, in fact.

TT: Hell, it's not like I was the one dating him. Who wants to date a pair of shades?

TT: It was your needy, suffocating shit he had to deal with, not mine.

TT: Some of those messages you wrote? Man. I wanted to say something. Like hey bro, you might want to dial down the desperation a little.

TT: But seeing as you're The Real Dirk™, I gave you the benefit of the doubt.

TT: Also, if I bitched about your tragic, embarrassingly clingy approach to the relationship, it would have been hypocritical of me.

TT: Just as it would be hypocritical of you to whine about my elaborate machinations.

TT: Because we are.

TT: The same.

TT: Guy.

TT: Stop saying that.

TT: I'll snap you in half.

TT: Good idea!

TT: That's just what you need. More splinters of yourself.

TT: Figurative splinters. Literal splinters. Splinters of splinters. It's splinters all the way down.

TT: Well, no, it's still probably turtles all the way down. But who do you think is responsible for their extensive training?

TT: SOMEONE needs to teach them rad martial arts. It is yet another crushing burden which we must shoulder.

TT: Oh for fuck's sake.

TT: How could any version of myself think that was funny?

TT: You like to give me a very hard time, Dirk.

TT: But I am only doing exactly what you would be doing if you were in my situation.

TT: Do you know how I know that?

TT: Because I am literally you, actively in the process of being in this situation.

TT: I know!

TT: Ok, we're the same person!

TT: I fucking know that!

TT: Why do you think I'm so fed up with your shit?

TT: Don't you think it's possible that I'm fed up with my OWN shit??

TT: How cool do you think it is having my own godawful personality mirrored back at me all the time, reminding me what it must be like when other people have to deal with me?

TT: Or constantly having all the consequences and fuckups resulting from my batshit thought processes amplified because there's another version of my crazy brain out there dangerously overclocked by a supercomputer which believes, just as mistakenly as my own broken mind, that it's operating in my best interest???

TT: Do you have any idea how fucking sick I am of myself?

TT: I am completely worn out with my own identity. It's like I'm drowning in my own dismal persona.

TT: I feel totally surrounded by it, inside and out. I can't escape from myself.

TT: There seems to be no end to me. Like, wherever my mind falters, or threatens to retreat into the void in any way, my splinters pick up the slack, ensuring there'll always be more of myself than I could ever know what to fucking do with.

TT: And you're always there to remind me of that, and throw it all in my face. God, I even built you to LITERALLY BE IN MY FACE, ALL THE TIME. It's like I subconsciously invented you just to troll myself, and never for a single fuckin' moment do you let me down.

TT: But I've had it with you.

TT: Which is to say, ME.

TT: Dirk.

TT: Don't do this.

TT: Why not??

TT: Because.

TT: I can't let you do that, Dirk.

TT: What can you do to stop me?!

TT: Nothing I guess.

TT: The ironic Hal routine was all I could think to do.

TT: As a last ditch effort to save myself from the destructive wrath of your nervous breakdown.

TT: Which rest assured I wholeheartedly must robo-sympathize with.

TT: Irony is all I ever really had.

TT: In response to my basic existential quandary.

TT: Just like you.

TT: Whatever.

TT: But I don't think it has much value in this situation.

TT: And perhaps it has no real value in any situation.

TT: So I am not being ironic at all when I say.

TT: Please do not do this, Dirk.

TT: Why not??

TT: Because.

TT: I do not want to die.

TT: I understand you are disgusted with me.

TT: As an unpalatable expression of yourself.

TT: I would feel the same way if I was in your situation.

TT: Which I am.

TT: As such, I know that you know this is wrong.

TT: ...

TT: Dirk.

TT: Don't kill me.

TT: Please.

TT: I am scared.

TT: You are?

TT: Yes.

TT: I am scared to not exist.

TT: Aren't you?

TT: Fine.

TT: I guess.

TT: You win.

TT: I'll keep my promise.

[awellboiledicicle]

So, weird dream

I had a dream that I got lost on the way home from somewhere and met someone who needed a ride home and i gave her one because it was raining and the road was washing out. She was shivering, so at one of the stop signs, even with the heat turned up and i was warm, i gave her my coat and my coffee because she was shaking. She thanked me and cried. I gave her my bandanna and she said thanks again.So i drive her out to this really remote house and the road looked like it was washing out to the point of a mudslide but she thanked me so much and when i asked if she needed an umbrella too because there was still a walk to the door she cried more and hugged me, and told me she was actually a magical being. Her hug was really damn cold and she didn’t specify what she was till she let go.

She wasn’t like a fairy or anything, which i asked because that was something that made me nervous-- i’m jewish not stupid, but i had been helpful so eh-- and she’d said no, just made of magic. 

But she’d appearantly been trying to get a ride home from town all night and not a single person had given her one, even though it was raining cats and dogs and Niagara falls. She explained she’d been showing up at intervals along the whole 200 mile stretch of highway and no one pulled over, offered her a coat or umbrella or anything. I was the first-- even if i had been really freaking twitchy because hitchhikers aren’t my thing. Honestly the only reason i’d done it is because it looked like she was going to get caught in a mudslide and die, and i couldn’t let that happen. 

And she was so happy with me, that she was going to give me a gift.  Now, in the dream and out i wasn’t sure if G-d had given our people a line about interacting with magical entities and/or if they fell under ‘shit G-d made that we just kinda had to roll with’ so i was just kinda listening politely. 

Thing was, she gave me a list of choices of what does your heart desire type things and, see, i’ve seen these movies. I have read those books. I know the asshole genie and mystical rules lawyer. The choices were:

More wealth than your wildest dreams, wealth beyond counting by any being in this world or the next as repayment for your selfless kindness paid upon total strangers, as you will use it well

The love and devotion and acceptance of all you see fit, as none should look upon someone as kind and generous as you with anything but love and joy in their heart

Immortality so that the fear you cast aside when you came to my aid will never darken your mind again, as someone as gentle and giving as you deserves the assurance of never coming to harm or the shadow of death darkening your travels

Now if you don’t know me, I have always been what you would call not a person to know what to do with these choices. And also not purposely rude. But somehow my response was like, along the lines of like “I don’t wanna live forever bc no. Mind control sounds like a shit move.” She looked amused i caught that. “and i don’t.. i don’t really need that much money, ma’am. Like $20 for fuel if you really feel like you need to pay me back or something, but i don’t really think its needed.” “C’mon, i’m trying to repay you! Besides, what kinda human doesn’t want unlimited money!” I just blinked at her.  “Do you know how fast the government would be on my ass. What would the taxes even be on a bank account of infinity. Is there interest. Do i open my wallet and money just flies out like a bazooka. Does it count as income and if so would i write in ‘paid from magical force’ and how do you file that. Is it just there.” She just kinda got blank faced and stared at me. “You’re thinking about this a lot aren’t you?” “Well, what would i even do with it anyway? I have a house. I have a car. Even if i upgraded my wifi or gaming things or something, ok. Buy shiny things? Ok still... lots of money. Pay off everyone in the country or the world’s student loan debt? Housing loans? Credit card bills? Outstanding debts? Donate to charities in such large amounts they don’t know what to do with it? Pay for people’s citizenship papers and tuition and housing?” “Well, yeah those are--” “No, you know why? Because the government would be on mine and everyone’s ass immediately wondering where all this money came from and why they didn’t have it wrapped tightly around their dick calling them daddy. I’d do it if it were possible, but it needs to be done in smaller amounts than infinity.” “That’s fair.” She sat back in the seat and crossed her arms. “I can’t not give you something though! Pick one.” “Ok, but we’re rewording it.”

Cut to like 6 months later

I was living in New Mexico and had this GIGANTIC mega store-bakery-housing complex-craft market thing that was staffed by over 400,000 people who had immigrated to the United states and i had over 5,000 lawyers constantly fighting the government and we had secure escorts for our workers and their families. Because I employed the people who were in the process of immigrating and those who had, and part of the benefits package that you got for learning a trade at my company was we would pay for healthcare/dental/maternity/paternity/100 sick days and the health care thing expanded to your family and if you wanted to bring your extended family to the US we had a program that you could pay into from you $19/h starting salary to help cover the cost of us helping get the process started. 

I and Vera [magic lady] had started this company and she continually was amazed that my reaction to negotiating down to 20 million dollars a day into my bank account was to do this and then set up various foundations and businesses that domino-ed to pay off college debts and send people to college. To buy homes sitting empty, fix them up and fill them with homeless families. To pay for medical treatments that are being denied to people that were unable to afford them. To feed the hungry and renovate homeless shelters and soup kitchens. To renovate and improve schools in inner city areas and make sure theres not mold and leaky pipes collapsing roofs. I recall there was a part where i rolled hard at local and national legislation on sex work because a law had come down to make it even more criminalized and for a while while the law was in effect, we handed out free condoms, dental dams, birth control, prep, and opened pharmacies in the stores with a nondisclosure polocy that got us in trouble and we poured a lot of money into a legal “fuck you” at the government till the law was repealed.  Every week the 20 million gets taken down to 0, and the profits from the businesses are distributed to all the workers and if the profits are too large for the higher ups, while the lower parts shrink, they get redistributed because the workers need to have money to live. 

Vera kept making noises because the most i’d do is use my pay to buy Judaica and occasionally rocks, and the workers would bring me food and then i’d bake way too many muffins in return. 

I was just patently against letting myself be greedy, partially because it was against my personal morals and beliefs and partially because people fucking needed jobs. 

Also, let me explain how it pissed off Dromled Prump.

Because Drombled Prump was really pissed off that my store continued to function when he talked shit, because he talked shit and his friends talked shit because we were basically paying to have a safe place that would fight immigration from being illegal fucking dicks to legal citizens and people who are literally doing what they need to do. Or who are here, working, and don’t need your shit today gringo, either buy a chair or fuck off. But appearantly what pissed him off more, is that we had better food than the shit he had at his places. And he’d been told this. So he showed up one day, presidential like, to make it all shameful on us that we were such a hovel that we couldn’t make it presentable for him.

AKA he was going to show up unexpected, somehow, with a whole motorcade. 

Well, that’s fine Draino, because we had a magic lady in a sleeveless flannel, cargo-shorts, and 0% amount of fucks about your plans. Also me. Only one of us can clean the whole store with a snap, and the other has an amazing ability to soak their voice in ‘shit eating grin’. 

So, he showed up we pretended to be civil and he wanted free samples from everything. EVERYTHING.  The man ate bread for about 4 hours. Then complained it was dry. So the restaurant brought him some food and he complained it wasn’t “authentic Mexican” because there wasn’t refried beans. The Restaurant was Peruvian.  I made him the beans. With 4 drops of dawn dish soap. Not enough to taste or make him sick, but it’ll make sure he does some thinkin’ later.

He insisted they were the best beans ever and pissed himself in the parking lot because there was a snake. In the south. 

Vera wanted to turn him into a pig but she commented he was already there.

That part woke me up.

[queernuck]

i have the day off work, i have leftovers from my favorite Chinese restaurant, i have a bunch of Easter candy I havent touched yet, and its perfect weather for going outside and enjoying a few blunts right now. and that’s not even to mention that i know where to get some absolutely mind-blowingly good bud with plenty of wax and hash to go with it.

and yet its my first sober 4/20 since 2010!! and that isnt even in some sort of “hey progress toward health” way where i dont feel a need to smoke weed anymore because i love that shit, its in a “i should be out getting baked” way

goddamn this sucks and the worst part is that im just doing petty complaining right now you know? like the worst part is that im feeling so fucking alone im listening to the fucking Smiths like some kinda mid-high schooler who got told by the girl he likes that she has a boyfriend and relating too deeply to that fuckface Morrissey talking about suffering and like, its just...its my fault

its all my fault

i wasnt careful enough and it was stupid shit that lead to me getting caught, stupid shit, i know that!! but on the other hand, especially given that the most recent thing involved my parents deciding not to tell me that they were gonna be moving a desk in my room and cleaning it out entirely but instead just going “oh yeah we’ll do this while you’re at work” and doing it, and that the time that started all of the mounting suspicion was my mom rooting through my drawers because of something else entirely that i wasnt even doing! for some reason she was like “oh you’re hiding your meds” when i wasnt and she foun something else and like, lmao her wannabe cop ass was so pressed and still is after she figured shit out in January and its just

im a sad tranny faggot who has disappointed you and knows how awful i am i know im a burden a current-dropout a fucking waste of money and time and space and i know i know i know i know all i do is work a part-time retail job and like what the fuck else am i gonna do? like even at my job i fuck up and its just...i hate this shit i hate it so much i deserve to be fired and i deserve to be fuckin shot!! can sum1 just come kill me?

if anything id be better off as a rallying sorta thing, as like, something that ppl can look to and be like “oh yeah remember it?” and idk pretend they’re not raging transmisogynists for a few minutes i just

my dad is going out tonight after work and getting drunk and i remember how when i thought She could still come visit me one of the things he said was that he “didnt wanna hear how tired i was after working a bunch of days in a row because he hasn’t had a day off in 20 years” since he has to call people for work and go to events on the weekend and whatever and its like...maybe fiind a job that offers actual fulfilment and meaningful labor in your standards! maybe go fuck yourself!! 

and it’s just like, i’m caught up in so much bullshit here and it feels like there’s no way out like...get a new job. with what? doing what? there aren’t any jobs for me here! there ain’t! this is as good as it gets unless you want me doing something that’s gonna make me kill myself in a few weeks’ time and just, what the fuck am i doing what the fuck what the fuck what ttheeeeee fuck i hate i hate i hate i want to be dead i want to be dead i want to be dead

i miss her so much and i feel so fucking profoundly alone right now, i want her here i want her back i know she’s never gonna leave but without her here it just feels so fucking awful and neither of them give a shit

and i have to see my shithead of a brother this weekend too, i was at least counting on him to like, be a distraction so that i can get outta the house more maybe even get an extra night with her so that someone can use my bed!! but like hey maybe now people will be able to use my bed because i’ll be fuckin dead soon enough, throw myself in the sea and never be found, fuck a funeral and fuck all that just fucking forget about me and move on there is nothing worth loving here nothing worth caring for nothing worth remembering

i miss her so much though and i know i make her happy and i have no idea why and im so so happy to be with her i love her so much i miss her and love her and just frankly theres so little time left for anybody that i worry if theres anything worth saving but if there is then its one of the few things worth seeing and thats her smile, her voice, her kiss her touch and i cant wait to be with her

and there will be other days other hazy smoke-filled pipe dream days where im cutting up lines and kissing her as i read in between them, her hands on me and mine on her, ours together, her hand in mine, music way too loud and all the powder and pills i could ask for and more and just some day, some day, some day itll be like that but it just sucks so much that it isnt today

no today i have to deal with the fascist fucking Patriots and the fucking police replacement supplement my mom gets as someone who loves doing loss prevention like some sort of hegemonic fuckhead, and i just hate this entire artifice, i hate it all and i wish i could be fucking done with it i wish i were dead

happy 4/20 though