#love me some social justice but fuckin hate people who try to do it in fictional space instead of like. reality

[lazaruspiss]

so many people just hear "dick was a cop" and go "eww im gonna pretend i didnt see that" and like. if its just bc you cant handle the subject matter thats one thing, but often times its just. performative. especially because the actually storyline is so much about dick trying (and as far as ive gotten to reading so far, failing) to make a change in the system and be a "good cop". it's an extremely heavy but genuinely very interesting storyline. dick does find other "good cops", but they're very much the minority and usually keep their heads down, because cops are bastards and will ruin the lives of "fellow officers" who try and do things right. they try to frame dick for murder at one point and everything.

[the-archetype-of-civilization]

Fourth rewatch of ATSV, y'already know:

-SPOILERS AHEAD!-

The name of Gwen's band being "The Mary Janes" is cute. Kinda sad that we don't see any form of a real Mary Jane, though.

George lightly and gently punching Gwen's doorframe when he says they got a "breakthrough in the Spider-Woman case. I can feel it" is so realistically portrayed. A man that's driven by justice and wanting to do right by his daughter, the hand gesture kinda says it all, honestly.

I FINALLY FOUND THE FUCKIN' TRANS FLAG, JEEZ I CAN'T BELIEVE IT TOOK ME 4 SESSIONS TO FIND IT.

When Gwen lands inside the Guggenheim, she slides in and her left foot is on the tips of her toes like a ballerina. I can't believe I've talked it about so much IRL that I didn't point it out here. But yeah, really badass.

"Hey, who left this ATM on the sidewalk?!"

There's a food cart called "Mothershuckers," I think.

Jess and Peter are terrible mentors for bringing their babies (one of them unborn!) into fights!

The student councilor's calendar has a funky lil' dog on there with sunglasses (I think).

When Miles says "whatever" to his parents, Rio's face was FELT. And that head movement was so on-point. It's crazy how human this movie is despite it being animated.

A Puerto Rican friend of mine said that a lot of the food at the party was instantly recognizable. That and the fact that a lot of the older generation HATE being addressed by their first name, which works well when Rio calls out Gwen saying hers.

Jeff trying to fix that cat balancing beam in the councilor's office and seeing it fall each time kills me.

Miles twiddling his thumbs nervously when he almost reveals himself to Rio is so realistically portrayed, I love the hand motions in this movie.

Gwen's avoidance to answer Miles' questions directly, or even at all, really irks me, especially when Miles has some very personal questions ("What are you doing here? I thought I'd never see you again..."). STOP LEAVING MY BOY IN THE DARK.

Speaking of Gwen, it honestly really bothered me how Gwen acted in this movie when it came to other people (being so nonchalant to Miles' parents, that awkward and sudden goodbye to Miles before she goes to find Spot, etc), like she's acting like such a child. But now, I genuinely think that she's just socially awkward, which I should've probably put together already considering she barely has any friends in her world and (presumably) doesn't talk to many people except for other Spider-People that are (again, presumably) just as awkward as she is.

Like, WHY DID SHE CHOOSE TO REVEAL HERSELF TO MILES' PARENTS WEARING HIS HOODIE AND THEN BEING LIKE "Uh Miles is missing, I dunno where he is. Bye!" GIRL, THAT'S NOT HOW YOU DO IT. Her promise to them and telling them that Miles loves them was nice, though.

Rio cupping Miles' face in her hands during her speech and Miles chuckling and smiling breaks my heart, man. If that ain't a mom thing to do ❤️ And I would smile and laugh just as much if it was my mom, too. I still think about Rio's speech, even today. It's that good.

Jeff climbing up the water tower to meet "Gwanda" and bumping his head into stuff and hurting himself was hilarious and I can't believe I didn't notice until now.

Miles hyping up the empanadas to Gwen was adorable. And his hand gesture was cute, too.

Miles' goodbye to Gwen is even more heartbreaking because you can see the tears welling up in his eyes. WHY WOULD YOU HURT MY BOY LIKE THIS???

There was an interesting parallel (don't know if it was intentional) where Gwen was hit by Spot and was falling in Mumbattan, Miles catches her and carries her before he drops her and reaches to save her. But when Miles is escaping from the Spider Society, Gwen catches Miles and Miles intentionally breaks the web and free falls instead, shaking his head at her. Gwen trusts Miles, but Miles doesn't trust Gwen anymore.

Bro, Miles can't catch a break with the damn snitches (the students ratting him out to the guy's office in ITSV and that woman on the highway in ATSV). Glad he called her out, though. Though, if there was a big scary Spider-Man with claws and arm blades on my car, I'd probably do the same just to get him off and away.

Miles rubbing his cheek in embarrassment when Rio appears in front of Gwen was so good. And his face when he goes "MOM!"

Something about the way Miles says "You have to let me go" to 42 Miles is interesting. I can confirm I saw the acrylic stand of Miles Morales Spider-Man in 42 Miles' apartment. I wonder if 42 Miles looked up to Spider-Man or something, maybe there is some history that we don't know between him and Spider-Man in some way, which is bizarre since there is SUPPOSED to be a Spider-Man there but isn't.

I like how Mayday took a crap when Miguel held her heheh. He IS the establishment. "Yup, she's a Parker" says Peter. Lmao.

There's several scenes where Miguel is talking about the canon to Miles with everyone being pretty close to the center, while Hobie is the farthest from all of them most of the time. And he's kinda facing away from them with his head being turned to face Miles. Shows how he separates himself from the society, but is only looking out for Miles right now.

There's a really cool YouTuber that went really in-depth with Gwen and George's conversation when Gwen returns back to her world and it's really insightful. Shows her lack of communication skills in general (and that it, unfortunately, seems to be hereditary, as well). He even talks about the damn penguin. Crazy stuff. But he makes a great point that Gwen actually genuinely smiles after talking to her dad, more so than even being with Miles. It's really sweet.

I dunno why, but I feel for that guy running the food cart when Gwen and Miles take his hot dogs and just dips and gives them cash (letting him keep the change). Just feels inconvenient for him, despite making a profit. I dunno, the guy looked like he was really befuddled and I felt for him lol.

The current Prowler's theme (42 Miles) being Miles's theme in reverse is insane.

Someone else pointed it out, but Pav threading the damn needle through a broken poster was SLICK.

Speaking of threading the needle, Miles almost messing up when he dodges the truck and screams out is hilarious. It honestly sounds like a reused scream sound file that he did in ITSV.

"I don't believe in consistency!" "This guy's killin' me..."

I didn't point this out in my third rewatch but the "It's a metaphor for capitalism" line was completely lost to me until I heard it then. Fucking perfection.

Pav saying "I can do both" when he sees Inspector Singh in trouble while trying to rescue Gayatri is heartbreaking. Miles says the same thing to Miguel before being shot down by Peter ("Not always."). At first I 100% believed that there was no argument that could be made against Miles, but realizing that Pav said that when he (literally) had his hands tied with Gayatri and couldn't rescue Inspector Singh until Miles came in, I'm not so sure anymore. It doesn't sway me in the other direction (being that Miles is in the right), but now it's much more clear that it truly is "not always."

I can't believe that in an Indian dominated Manhattan (Mumbattan), they STILL allowed to have that British museum up.

"I wanted to be with you guys so bad...but this thing isn't what I thought it was." I can't tell you how much I love this boy and how I will kill anyone that hurts him like this. So fucking uncool, guys. UN-FUCKING-COOL!

When Miles is talking to 42 Rio, he says that he's "stronger now because of you [Rio], because of dad" and 42 Rio says something in Spanish that sounded like the equivalent of "oh, sweetheart..." lovingly. Shit hurts, man.

Miguel against the dark rainy night under the large "WELCOME" sign is peak cinematography, next to Gwen and Miles under the clocktower.

I had to cut down some stuff because the text limit sucks. I got others and all that, you know how it is.

Second rewatch.

Third rewatch.

Final act.

[latulasbian-1]

what are your thoughts on kankri? personally i never understood the appeal and im interested to hear your take since he Was on the b tier of your list

OK! Sorry for lateness but I only noticed your question at like 2:00 AM and needed a full tank of brain-gas to be able to convey my thoughts even semi-coherently. 

So Kankri’s a weird one, probably one of the most convoluted and self-contradictory characters in Homestuck. Its fitting given he’s pretty much a one note joke and hussie’s one-note joke characters actually wind up being either his most oddly complex (see: equius and feferi for instance) or most sympathetic (see: Nepeta). Kankri’s a bit of both imo, though I wouldn’t call him a favorite for me. 

Kankri’s characterization is built almost entirely on one fuckin’ note: “LOL AIN’T TUMBLR SJWs FUNNY AND ANNOYING!?!?!?”. If you disagree with this then I don’t even know what to tell you, bc everything from his style of long-winded monologues (that wind up running up on Hussie Ableism Moments bc in-narrative his infodumping is supposed to be annoying???) to his inability to take social cues to his supposed-to-be-interpreted-as-excessive use of trigger warnings to his unapologetic killjoy attitude to his supposed hypocrisy/”privilege” are literally all just a fucking layer cake of anti-SJW stereotypes. This is where the issue of how the fandom interprets Kankri kicks in, as people’s opinions on him (aside from a few diehards) tend to scale from “DAWWW CUTE WIDDLE UPPITY BEANBOY” to “fucking annoying neoliberal”. For the matter, neither of these are intended by Hussie, while he did design him to be cute he wasn’t meant to be hateable for leftist homestuck fans as a (neo-)liberal or faux leftist. Hussie just designed him after everyone hussie found annoying in the social justice community primarily on tumblr. Even his political monologues, though not WITHOUT hypocrisy and bullshit, tend to actually skew towards “pretty fucking reasonable hussie just thinks people being upset by bad stuff is stupid”.  

Now, people cite Kankri being ableist in his criticism of certain other dancestors for ~conforming to stereotypes~, which yes from an in context scenario is pretty fucking bad. If someone IRL is dealing with their disability in a way you think seems pretty stereotypical keep that thought to yourself. HOWEVER, AS ONE OF THE MOST CRUCIAL POINTS TOWARDS KANKRI BEING GENERALLY SYMPATHETIC, WE GET THE META ELEMENT. Hussie, in writing a hypocritical mansplainer who goes on and on and on about everything thats politically incorrect about the people around him, practically beat-for-beat replicates talking points PEOPLE HAVE USED TO CRITICIZE HOMESTUCK ITSELF. YES! MITUNA’S PRESENTATION AS A CHARACTER IS 100% UNAMBIGUOUSLY AWFUL IN ITS PORTRAYAL OF PEOPLE WITH BRAIN INJURIES AND MENTAL DISORDERS. DAMARA IS A RACIST STEREOTYPE SO BAD HUSSIE SHOULD GET THROWN IN JAIL. INCEST IS BAD. If ANYONE in homestuck should’ve pulled the meta knowledge shit in post-canon, kankri would’ve been a WAYYYYYY better candidate than dirk for it, especially since kankri seems halfway to realizing he’s fictional just by political analysis of the story he’s in! Kankri seems to exist at the apex of Hussie’s confusion about fandom, given he’s baffled enough by people being obsessed with his work yet so intensely negative that he can only seem to think of them as obsessive manchild wierdos with no sense of rational thought. As someone who myself unironically loves Homestuck and yet have an entire third of my brain dedicated to ripping it apart on an ethical level, I can see some of myself in that turtleneck’d contrarian. Just because someone is a fan of something doesn’t mean they will or should unthinkingly defend it from all recourse. This is something homestuck as a whole struggles with, I think back to the aspect or extended zodiac quiz where one of the questions amounted to “someone is talking shit about a show you like, how do you respond” and there wasn’t even an answer for “actually listen to what they’re trying to say and consider if they could be right”. Kankri is a symbol of sorts for those critical enjoy-ers, in a way. A stupid silly not-that-meaningful way, but a way. I think people should reclaim him. 

I’ve touched on it a bit before, but the last main sympathizing aspect of kankri for me (aside from personality things like his frankly unearned patience with a friend group that entirely fucking hates his guts) is a trait share by almost all the dancestors: Hussie’s fucking disturbing use of mental illness & psychiatric disorders with them. Between Kankri’s unwillingness to observe common social cues, his overtly poised and practiced manner of speaking, his obsession with using trigger warnings to warn off confrontation in leu of not just speaking his mind with everything, his tendency to cling to certain articles of clothing for long periods of time, his implied difficulty taking care of himself physically, and the fucking insulting “mom-friend useless-manchild-who-needs-nannying” dynamic he has with Porrim, he comes off (intentionally or no) as a beat-for-beat embodiment of an autistic person as seen through Hussie’s tropey and horribly ableist worldview. This is a common trait he shares with both Aranea and Mituna, as well as many of the other dancestors to lesser degrees (many of them, like Mituna, also have OTHER mental disorders flat-out-stated in such a way that makes their depiction just fucking confused and bad). For me, and for at least SOME other people, it makes unbiased critical reactions to them damn near impossible. They deserve better than how hussie can write them. In a lot of ways I have friends like Kankri, and Hussie’d almost fucking certainly find them just as embarrassing and annoying as he meant for Kankri to be. 

So yeah, Kankri isn’t my favorite by any means but i don’t feel like i can or should condemn him. He’s fun. I’d watch his video essays. 

And this isn’t even BEGINNING to touch on how much I loathe Porrim as an example of “good cool fun feminists that hussie can sexualize!” And her more open bisexuality than other trolls being both a tool for fetishization by Hussie and a fucking skin-crawling thing to use as a contrast for Kanaya’s status as either “the only confirmed lesbian in homestuck (until postcanon showed rose was a lesbian too)” or “the only lesbian troll in existence ever bc thats totally how sexuality would work with aliens” (sorry if you ascribe to the “all trolls are bisexual bc they’re supposedly binormative as a get-out-of-jail-free card for hussie’s hetero-ass ship tease shit” then. well get better soon) 

(seriously though everyone who pulls the “kanaya is the only lesbian alternian” shit owes every lesbian 100 dollars) 

[rpmemesbyarat]

RP Meme from "Chapter Two: The Grove" in the Children of Gaia Tribebook from "Werewolf: The Apocalypse" Part Two of Two

The Hole of the Goddess? Which hole is that?

What will you do for the pack?

The species still lives.

We lamented that their honor was gone

Their honor is gone.

Their honor is gone. But know that their valor and strength are not.

So what do they do? Besides talk.

They move us to remember. And to remember is to act.

The fact that they lived and died should move us to do something!

Good takedown there!

This is the tackiest thing I’ve ever seen.

I think it’s cool. That people feel free enough to do this, you know.

You a fan of this stuff? Or just like the show?

It's pretty neat to watch, yeah.

Y’know, the rave’s starting up soon at the second stage

It didn’t work, really. I don’t know if you noticed.

What didn’t work? What rite were you trying to perform?

I, uh, hope it works out better next time.

You feel okay? Happy? Didn’t hurt you, did I?

I mean, don’t you think it’s wrong or something?

Going to blame it on the cheap beer?

Yeah, I know I’m gay.

But, I mean, you’re a wolf!

When I’m a wolf I don’t want you, or anybody, except when the time and the company are right.

It’s — no, don’t ask. It’s too complicated, take my word for it.

I’m human, or at least mostly human.

Aren’t we supposed to. . . not do this?”

Well, the Bible stuff is for humans, one or two religions’ worth.

Oh, things change.

Sorry. But that’s what it means.

Careful. Really careful. Our bodies don’t work like a human’s, so pills and condoms don’t always work either.

But isn’t that rule kind of, well, outdated?

If I was dating a human, I couldn’t have his head in my lap, not most places.

This is one of the lesser commandments these days.

It’s not something you can wish away.

There’s a reason for that rule.

I think it’s good to be polite.

We can make alliances more easily if we respect others’ beliefs, not just their territory.

Do you think that your preaching nonviolence means we don’t have to fight?

Even humans created diplomacy and statecraft.

When we must have a leader, when we need to order, there are better ways than fighting.

We didn’t invent democracy, but it does work better than one—man rule.

Do we need one? I don’t think we do.

You started it!

I am not some kind of patriarchal authority figure.

I think it’s an outmoded idea.

You don’t even try to understand them.

Look, no offense, [NAME], but you’re crazy.

You got us together, got us here.

You’re not dominating us. You can’t make us do things.

But we need you. Someone. Someone to intersee, not oversee. Someone to subvise, not supervise.

Look, I don’t want to tell people what to do. It would take too long.

Others are the most popular.

That’s practical, because it means you can get others to listen to you.

Is it your pleasure to attend?

That was weird.

Who was that?

Yeah, there are a lot of old forms of courtesy you’ll see sometimes.

Food isn’t always plentiful.

The strong need to be strong.

Social Darwinism, dammit.

So what good is that to me?

It's about sharing, period.

It’s your damn passion for social justice, okay?

It is the truth, not grass to be twisted and woven.

It’s words. If they mean something different to me, you’ve no right to call me wrong.

Just about every human society I ever heard of has rules against eating human flesh, most human flesh, most of the time.

Do we respect them?

We show them respect — sometimes just by keeping our distance.

This is the worst one for us.

We’re all of us closer to the humans than safety would wish

I think that it meant not to waste resources.

The old way was to leave the sick and weak to die.

You say you’re not a leader, but what would you do if we ever ran into bad trouble?

Nothing sexual.

You’re the hero. You should know.

No anarchists in foxholes.

This is a powerful place, no lie.

I think that the humans are safer with us here than not.

What if there’s trouble?

So always ask if you bring someone, anyone.

We need to avoid fighting.

Ants fight, but they don’t waste continents doing it.

I really need to know this stuff, so can we drop the politics?

We are really one tribe.

They’re all women? Are they lesbos?

We were passing a bottle of shine round and telling dirty stories--why are you looking at me that way?

I mean, they have fleas. Some of them.

I don’t own them as my people.

Are they all crazy?

Nazi types?

They hate us for seeking peace, hate all humans--

We want peace; I don’t know what they want.

They hate everything human, hate the human half of themselves.

I have known a few, and they were angry with me, even, because I live with humans.

They’re really more like kings of the spoiled potato salad.

They love darkness, dark magic; it all stinks.

Because we need all the help we can get.

Can we talk about somebody else?

I thought you hated patriarchal authority figures?

They know a lot of secrets.

We are alike in a lot of ways.

They want war, want death, really.

Thanks, your help will no longer be required.

It was like--it was like being told flat-out that we’d failed, that we were no good.

It hurt. It hurt bad.

And you’re left there like you’d just gone through an awful breakup, wondering ‘was it me?’

It’s always tense going.

How weird is that?

If you ever meet one, be polite and respectful, and don’t approach anything looking like their territory unless invited.

Go find that tale-teller, and hear what he has to say.

They have no use for us at all.

They sound pretty evil.

People say they’re evil, too, but they’re not.

It’s not that we slaughtered them, because we didn’t.

There is simply nothing to discuss.

You tread on cracking ice.

Can’t you see just how much we could gain if we actually managed to make peace with them?

Fine. Go ahead. Dream your dreams.

Okay, we get it, vampires.

They’re a wild bunch.

Avoid them if you can.

Not all of them hostile — sometimes they just don’t understand.

We can't always counter them.

These are ghosts, like on Halloween.

I will ask for your help. Thank you.

You handle the rainbow crap, kiddo.

Just know this; defend the fatherless, plead for the widow.

It’s beautiful, peaceful.

Too much work here.

I mean, Paradise, it’s cool, but there are no problems, nothing to do, really.

Sounds nice. I'm too busy as it is.

It is supposed to be a place where there is no hatred, suffering or evil.

It does sound nice, doesn’t it. Like Heaven, I guess.

What was different here?

Yo, dude, give me a leg up, willya?

Will I get dropped? Will I get stepped on?

It’s cool, no one’s gonna let you fall.

No one’s gonna hurt you.

I'm not in control.

No one's in control.

What message hid there, that no one person knew?

Have a good time?

It was really positive, really charged me up.

You gonna stay for more?

Yeah, thanks, asshole.

Were there spirits in that crowd?

I felt it, too.

Wow, freaky.

Why would they do that?

You ever crowdsurf?

It makes you happy, man. It makes you fuckin’ glow.

So what did you learn?

Say, where are we all going after this?

You got the list?

We’re gonna get the great unwashed together and shut these fuckers down.

So who have you heard from?

It isn’t much but we call it home.

I know, I know, it’s been a while.

You know, I always wanted to see Europe, back when I was a dumb kid.

You knew all this already, right?

Well, this may be no surprise to you, but I guess I should have thought things through a little more.

The war’s bad over here.

It’s hard, baby.

It doesn’t make us look good, and we have to work twice as hard to get half the respect.

I’m alive, I’m well, I’m eating regularly.

I think I can make a little progress here whether these hardheads want me to or not.

Humans invent causes. And humans make their own history.

America’s not exactly paradise, but it’s the best anyone could do, really.

We organize marches, sometimes just standing because we can’t get government permission to march.

I don’t blame them but it makes our lives very hard.

This hellish, war-torn home of mine has enough problems that we have managed to unmake one more.

We worked so long and so hard that the absence of the laws is almost worse than their presence; evil as it is, it was all we knew.

Now comes the harder work; restoring a civil society, dignity, true peace.

I have lived all my life and will die here, working for justice.

The baby is kicking. Keeps me awake some nights.

The monsoon season was incredible — towers of clouds and endless rain.

It amazes me that a man as strong as he is can be so tender sometimes.

We’re not here to proselytize, just to show them another way.

We have a long, long way yet to go.

I still don’t know if this is something we should support.

It’s as bad now as it has ever been.

This war has gone on for years and I worry that we aren’t accomplishing anything.

[m00nlitknight]

Hello. I really like your previous works. Can I make request, please? Reader's been in relationship with whole gang for a couple of months. Everything was ok but Henry got jealous and started to ruin her relationship with rest of the gang distancing her from them.

ofc!! ✨  i don’t know if im really happy where i left off with this, so if you’re interested i could potentially make a part two?  i’m pretty happy with some parts of it ngl, but that might be my 4am brain talking lol;;

warnings:  usages of slurs / degrading terms ( light, but still present ).  mentions of frick fracking.  possessive behavior.  none else to really talk about. pairing:  poly!bowers gang x reader / henry bowers x reader extra ( edit ):  feel free to look through my masterlist for other bower’s gang/reader works, and have a fantastic day!

vindictive.

The relationship with the infamous Bowers’ Gang began in what you could only describe as a fictional scenario.  You’d always been known as one of the kindest individuals in your classes, a large soul and absolutely heart-warming and dazzling smile.  The reputation, though humbling on the darkest of evenings, felt strenuous to keep up.  It was suffocating, sometimes, when you wanted nothing more than to fade in the scenery, or to say no to a request from someone.  Being the school doormat gave you an easy pass to adoration, but a hard road to doing whatever anyone wanted.

That’s what confused you about the sudden interest of the gang.  Sure, you had been paired up once or twice with them for class projects, shouldered the entirety of the workload; but everytime they hardly batted an eye your way.  Except for Vic, but he always seemed to be a bit more socially adept then the other three.  So it was only fitting that the initial interest came from him, one day after your shared class he approached you, and asked if you’d ever want to hang out.

Obviously, you said yes, and reaped the immediate consequences.  Practically the next day after his query, people began to look at and treat you differently.  No longer was there an affectionate warmth in their gaze, reserved exclusively for you, instead replaced with a brief flash of fear before morphing into a bout of confusion for how to tread the situation.  You didn’t mind it, or at least on the surface you didn’t.  The validation found in your peers suddenly being ripped from your grasp was a bit whiplash inducing, not that you could really do anything about it.

The initial hangout, which you look back at fondly as your first actual date, was a casually dressed affair.  He took you to get milkshakes, which you indulged in the city’s center and poked fun at the Paul Bunyan statue, then took you to go thrift shopping.  It was that day you’d found your new favorite sweater, called ‘hideous’ on many occasions by the likes of your mother and peers, and a cute denim skirt.

It didn’t take long for Henry himself to nearly shoehorn himself into your relationship with Vic, apparently prompting Belch to ambush the two of you on your second date.  The Trans-Am’s engine was unbearably loud, coming up behind the two of you holding hands as Henry hollered something you couldn’t quite make out.

Five months down the line, and half-way through Junior year, a heartfelt outpour from the entire gang; and suddenly you’d become the apple of all of their eyes, so to speak.  Most of the time, your interactions were soft with all the boys, cuddled up with them all -- your personal favorite being Belch, he knew just the position for you to be putty in your hands; Patrick on the other hand did everything in his power to make you squirm while in his grasp.  He’d simply cackle at your protests of his wandering hands, then proceed to mock the tone of your voice.

Though, from the sidelines, you were mostly able to ignore the fiery glares thrown by Henry.  No matter how much attention you gave him, how many times you’d let him leave unsolicited hickies on your neck in plain sight to be hidden from your mother, or held him after a rough night.

He’d never said thank you or praised you for anything, which left you devoid of where you stood with him.  If he hated you, would you even be around the other three?  Wouldn’t he have been completely blunt and outright with it?  The creeping worry manifesting itself in your gut grew with time, and with time you began to give him more of your attention to try and sedate it.

Inside the labyrinth of his mind, Henry’s opinion of you began as negative -- the ambushing of your and Vic’s date was a stunt to try and drive you away from the gang in entirety.  But you just came the fuck back.  Loyalty was written all over your features, as was inexperience.  With time, the faint flame of interest that licked the recesses of his mind fanned themselves into a stronger blaze, and suddenly the shared attention you had been giving the gang was like gasoline.

He played himself off as distant, instead replying to the work you put in with brief hand holds or an arm thrown around your shoulders to show possessiveness around school.  Being calculating obviously wasn’t his thing, nor was being patient.

He took your first kiss, and one of his first, one night while alone with you, the second month into the relationship.  Pussyfooting around the more carnal aspects of a relationship wasn’t something he typically found himself doing, but he knew that Vic or Belch would have his head if he rushed things too fast.  In the end, though, it drove him to wanting more.

Physical affection was kept behind closed doors, and he couldn’t be sure that your intimacy was only reserved for him, considering you never sported any other markings or called out the name of any of the other members while you were with him.  It inflated his ego to astronomical levels, and it killed him that he couldn’t flaunt it in his friend’s faces.

Regardless, he wanted you to himself and himself alone.

-----------

“Good morning!” your voice cut through the mid-morning drowsiness of the boys sitting in the parked Trans-Am on the curb in front of your home with steely sharpness, but a welcome smile finds its way onto Belch’s face.

“Morning, gorgeous,” he says from the driver’s seat.  “Hop in.”

“Can do!”  your morning pep leads to a foot on the tire and hauling yourself into the car by means of the roof, and plopping directly in Patrick’s lap - eliciting a hearty grunt and smirk from the boy.

“You’re awfully full of life this morning, feels shameful to waste this energy on something so innocent as breakfast,” he all but purrs as he tugs you further into his grasp while the car lurches forward and en route to the typical Saturday-morning hangout spot.

“Ew, Pat,” Vic cringes over to his friend and you, true malicious intent absent.  “It’s fucking brunch time, let ‘em wake up first, will you?”

His question is answered by a cheeky nip to your neck, causing you to squeal.

In the front seat, Henry broods silently.  On the radio plays one of Belch’s cassettes which goes unlistened, and a favorite of his; ...And Justice for All by Metallica.  The playful tone of your voice and Patrick’s advancements manage to leave a sour taste in his mouth, even though he made the extra effort to brush his teeth this morning.

The meal goes relatively uneventful, though your wandering eyes, half-lidded and vixen-esque, irritate him further.  Vic has an arm around your waist, and Belch holding an unoccupied hand under the table.  If he’d thought any better, Patrick was all but devouring you from across the table.  It was an affection-filled scene, which made the poor diner waitress visibly uncomfortable.

After breakfast, Belch drops both you and Henry off at your home, currently unoccupied by your mother who has work.  “Bye, we’ll be seeing you guys later!”

“Henry, be nice to ‘em, will ya?”  Belch booms from the window, around Patrick climbing into the front seat like an animal.

His request is met with a smirk from Henry, who pulls you into a passionate but short kiss in front of the trio.  “As nice as I can be.”

It leaves you immediately flustered and giggling as you’re pulled into your own home and leaving the other three in a vague state of confusion.  The engine faded away in the distance as you moved toward your house, a mess of giggles, flushed cheeks, and a downcasted gaze.  Henry’s smirk is short-lived as his expression shifts back to neutrality.  He watches you walk through the door and shift to the side to take off your shoes, opting to keep his own on.  The brief and blissful silence is broken by his voice, laced with the undeniable edge of his ire.  “Who’s your favorite?”

The question hangs in the air, souring the atmosphere directly as it leaves his mouth.  You freeze at the words, mid finangling your shoe off as you turn to look at him with a confused, and slightly hurt, expression.  “Huh?”

“Don’t play fuckin’ stupid.  Who’s your favorite?”  He takes a step towards you, which you subconsciously shrink back from.

“I-I don’t have one?”

“God, maybe y’are fuckin’ stupid.  There’s four of us and y’mean t’tell me not ‘a one of us sticks out more than the others?”

A blush spreads across your features, an involuntary testament to your unease and outright lie.  Your eyes dart to look anywhere but him as your body betrays you, petrified in intimidation.  “You,” murmur with a gentle voice and laced with a lack of thinking.

He leans down to your mouth, quickly overtaking your personal space and invading your nostrils with his scent -- cheap body spray and masculinity.  It’s nearly intoxicating.  “What was that?”

“You,” an utterance with little more force, the action of taking a lungful of air simply too strenuous.

“Mind tellin’ me why I feel the least love then?”

You almost want to deflate at it, even if the hands wrapping around your shoulder feel like nothing short of a tender moment.  All the time you’d spent with him, all that you’d given to him, and he still felt overshadowed?

“I…”

“Or, is it jus’ that you’re an attention-seeking slut?”  The words cut deeper then he’s capable of understanding, and the sick smile curling onto his lips and the whispered tone feel vastly different then what he’s actually saying.

You’re rendered speechless as he takes you closer to the couch, dragging you into a straddling position on him.  “Show me what I was missin’ at brunchfast then, huh?”

Wide-eyed and bashful you stare.  What are you even supposed to do?  He leans into you, peppering your throat with kisses while his hands wander up and down your sides.  Instinctively, your hands move to run through his hair and he nearly purrs at the contact and looks up at you with an intense, baby-blue gaze.

“Who’s your favorite?”

“You,” sighed out as he starts sucking on your neck and rubbing at your hips.

“Say it,”  a rough voice reverbs through him from his chest, and he relishes in the affection of your gentle hands.  You’re his.  His.

“You’re my favorite, Henry,” your voice tightens when he starts to suck on your collarbone.

---------

He’d managed to cut your afterglow short in the early evening, badgering you to call Belch and tell him not to drive you to school for the next week.  You did it, albeit with a bit of confusion, and feeling vague sadness when Belch’s tone took a nose-dive into disappointment when the subject of the call was revealed. For the next week, you couldn’t look any of the gang in the eye, instead taking to marinate in your own shame and blatantly avoid them.

[starkerforlife6969]

Starker- Anger

very loosely based on Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington from Stranger things. 

TW: Please be careful! Explicit abuse, parental abuse (tony’s dad, Peter’s step dad), violence, Tony punches Peter in the face once, both peter and tony are being abused by their parents, unhealthy coping mechanisms, brief mentions of homophobic slurs, somehow a happy ending, high school au, just- be careful, my lovelies! 

Tony’s known pretty boys like Peter Parker his whole life.

They aren’t worth the paper they’re printed on, and they are printed on paper: stick thin and flimsy. Two dimensional, boring, shallow, materialistic. They’re a dime a dozen back in Phoenix, and frankly, Tony wasn’t impressed with them there, so here, in this dreary little town where school spirit and pep leaks outside of the school’s hallways and into the streets, where popularity matters deep in the suburbs the same way it does in the classroom, Tony really isn’t impressed.

Pretty boys like Peter Parker are pretty, and that’s all they’re good for. A bit of eye-candy.

The bubbly-blonde, cotton-candy cheerleader who’s been assigned to showing him around the school, does so with an enthusiasm that’s borderline revolting. “There are loads of school clubs, you should totally join, like, all of them! Peter’s on the committee, and he’s so open to new ideas, if you think of a club just run it by him! He’d be so happy to! He also hosts these, like, killer parties! And it’s always open invitation, Peter’s house is totally lush, he has this huge pool and his parents are like, never home-“

Jesus Christ, it’s all so inane. Tony reaches for his cigarettes and the girl stutters to a halt as she watches him light it up right there in the hall. Her eyes are wide with awe- rimmed with arousal and wrongness. Tony resists the urge to smirk. It’s all so easy. Cookie-cutter town like this, where the most popular guy in school is on fuckin’ committees for school clubs, he’s not surprised that dark, slicked back hair, black-rimmed eyes and a cigarette will be enough to rework the social structure.

In fact, he’s sort of banking on it.

“Y-you’re not allowed to smoke in here,” she breathes in amazement, and Tony chuckles, fumes curling around his jaw.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” He says around his cigarette, giving her a wink. “You gonna tell on me?”

She shakes her head, hair swishing with her promise, and when the tour ends- she races off, no doubt, to tell the food chain of the cafeteria what she’s witnessed.

* *

Maria cries that night, when Howard kicks Tony’s face so hard he can feel his eye bulge a little.

Tony wants to tell her not to cry. He wants to gather her into his arms and spit blood and say I told you he wouldn’t change just because we’ve moved states. He can’t change, mom. He won’t change.

He loves her for loving him. He hates her for not saving him.

He swallows down putrid blood and sleeps in his car.

When he wakes up, there’s fresh bandages tucked into his glove compartment, a packed lunch, a blanket draped over his shoulders and a post-it note that says (in handwriting that trembles) that maybe he shouldn’t come inside for breakfast. I love you, sweetheart. I’m sorry. Mom xx

* *

The rumour mill has been churning, and when he walks into school with his shiner, it just spins even faster.

People gape, a few, braver ones, flutter over, hovering, but not quite speaking.

Tony feels pretty damn good. It’s nice to feel handsome. Powerful. Nice to know that somewhere, he can exude a little control.

But to be King, there has to be a de-throning.

“You,” he drawls, slamming a locker shut and narrowly missing a freshman’s fingers. “Peter Parker, where is he?”

The freshmen swallows hard, shrinking into his neck. “Uh-uh- p-probably in the a-art rooms, T-Tony.”

Tony grins, and pats him on the cheek. The boy already knows his name. Everyone must.

Without another word, he turns and heads for the art rooms.

When he gets there, his breath catches in his throat.

Dappled in sunlight, twisting spirals of cedar hair, amber eyes and practically drenched in a golden aura, is Peter Parker.

He’s frowning at a canvas, and it makes Tony seethe.

Pretty boys like that are all the same. Oh, is his biggest fucking problem the fact he can’t decide what to paint? He certainly doesn’t have any money issues, not if the expensive shoes are anything to go by. The designer jeans, the pink sweater with the ruffled lace collar.

Tony hates him. Fucking envies him. The sight of him- so beautiful, so serene- so troubleless, he has everything. He has everything. No doubt two parents who adore him, a nice house, money, talent, beauty- a future. And everyone here adores him, fuckin’ thinks he hung the moon in the sky.

“You think you’re worth anything?” Howard sneers, jabbing Tony’s shoulders hard enough to bruise. “You ain’t worth a damn thing, sport. You’re worth shit.”

“Well,” Tony smiles, all mean and sharp at the edges, and feels a vicious sort of victory in the way Peter jumps.

Like he’s not used to be snuck up on. Like he’s not used to being scared. “Oh, you scared me,” the boy laughs, a blush on his cheeks, “you must be Tony-“

“You’re as pretty as they said you were.” Tony continues, because he doesn’t want to hear Peter’s sweet voice. Doesn’t want to hear another word out of his mouth. “Prettier, even. They don’t do you justice.” He trails his fingers across still-wet canvases drying on easels, smudging and ruining the paintings.

“Hey, I think- you’re not supposed to touch those,” Peter points out worriedly, pearly teeth nibbling at his bottom lip. “You might accidentally-“

Tony moves so quickly it must look like he’s teleported. He backhands Peter so fucking hard, it’s so fucking satisfying, and the boy topples to the ground gracelessly.

There’s no movement for a long moment, before the boy lets out a strangled gasp, wrenches himself away.

Not far enough. Goddamn, he’s so weak. How can anyone be this weak? Tony knows to cover his head, to curl up in a ball, but Peter’s splayed out and defenceless.

Tony reaches down to grab him by the designer sweater, lifting him clear off the ground as Peter winces and recoils. The mark on his cheek is darkening rapidly, an ugly scarlet. “You run this school, Parker? You their precious king?”

“What? No! I…” there are tears sparkling in his eyes, he even cries like a Disney character. “I don’t- I don’t understand, please don’t-“

Begging never stops anything. Tony drops him and punches down in one swift motion, right onto Peter’s stomach- forcing all the air out of him, along with a pitiful whimper. “You ain’t king of shit, you get that, Parker?”

He doesn’t stick around for an answer, not that Peter could give one, with the way he’s wheezing, and he strides out; fingers streaked with paint and blood.

* * Peter doesn’t come into school the next day, and all eyes are stuck on Tony.

They’re not all as admiring anymore, but they are intimidated, and that’ll do. The girls still flock to him, the younger students still flee.

It’s easy to dethrone. History makes it look hard, but it isn’t.

“Liam’s throwing a party next week,” Cindy says over lunch. Tony’s sitting at the “popular” table. It looks like all the others, but the people there are substantially more attractive. He’s sitting where Peter usually sits, that much he can gather, and the students (his subjects) whisper with nervous fear. “You should totally come.”

“Maybe,” Tony murmurs, but he will go. Anywhere that isn’t home in the evenings. Anywhere else.

*** Tony feels good on Friday.

His dad is out of town on business, and he and his mom ate take out in front of the tv and didn’t have to worry when they spilt some on the rug.

He parks his beat up car in one of the teacher’s spots, and his entourage rush to greet him and update him on the gossip and prattle on about things he doesn’t give a shit about.

That is, until one of them says-

“Peter’s back in today.”

And that, Tony has to see.

He’s not technically in AP english, but he winks at the receptionist and she buckles like everyone does.

Peter sits at the front of the class, scribbling notes furiously, and looks entirely put together in a white chiffon blouse and green slacks. The bruise along his cheekbone is horrific. Darker and splotchier- there’s a tiny little cut above his left eyebrow- Tony doesn’t remember doing that, but that happens sometimes. He hits a little harder than he means to.

Seeing it is a weird feeling. It makes disgust well up inside him, something horrible and tortured screeches to be let out, and on the other hand-

He’s a king looking down on the enemy wounded.

Peter doesn’t look up at him once during the class, even though he goes out of his way to be annoying and aggravating.

The teacher kicks him out eventually, and when the bell rings, he waits by Peter’s locker.

The boy approaches cautiously. He’s alone. All alone. High school fans, so fickle, Tony tuts.

“Parker,” he grins, watching as Peter twists open the combination lock. “Finally decided to come back.”

“I guess so,” the boy says quietly, demurely, changing out his books. He has hard copies of everything, all brand new and shiny. They don’t look like the torn up, hand-down charity shop copies Tony uses.

Tony waits, but Peter offers nothing else. He feels too sharp around the edges, he feels like he’s shattering. “Well? Aren’t you gonna tell on me or some shit? I haven’t heard a word.”

“You want me to tell someone you attacked me?” Peter clarifies curiously, looking at him with huge, honey eyes. It’s like someone bottled sunlight. Tony’s winded by the sight of them.

“I-“

“What would that achieve?” Peter asks, blatant with honesty and genuine inquisitiveness. “It wouldn’t make you stop. It might get you suspended, maybe expelled, but then what? Not like you couldn’t come and find me outside of school. Then I call the police? Try to get you arrested for assault? You’d be released in a year anyway, and then what?”

Tony snarls, banging his fist against the lockers so loudly the entire hallway falls silent. He leans in and spits into Peter’s face: “How about some fuckin’ gratitude that I didn’t leave a mark, huh, pretty boy? Where’s my thanks?”

Peter doesn’t step away. He looks up and juts out his chin in a way that’s meant to be intimidating but is more endearing than anything. “Thank you.” He whispers. His lower lip shakes. “Thank you for what you did to me.”

“Don’t fuckin- stop cryin- get up! Get up!” Howard yells, hauling Tony to his feet. He stumbles, unable to stand, and Howard shoves him against the wall. “Fuckin’ ingrate, say thank you- thank me for taking the time to fuckin’ teach you!”

“Thank you,” Tony manages around a sob, sliding to the floor and bursting into tears.

Tony staggers back hard.

He’s not-

He’s not.

*** Pretty boy Peter is a bug under his skin.

Tony can’t stop thinking about him. Can’t stop wondering where he is, how he is.

Jefferson High is a huge school, but the fields and playgrounds are bigger, and that’s where students spend their time.

Tony finds Peter every lunch time, curled up in the big chairs in the library, buried in a book.

Sometimes he’s wearing oversized cream sweaters, sometimes when it’s hot, he’s in some fancy lace get up, and Tony eyes the smooth, soft skin on display. Sometimes he’s almost asleep, looks so peaceful and cosy (Tony wants to reach out and gently, gently touch) sometimes his eyes are moving so rapidly, his lips parted in exhilaration, fingers clumsy as they hurriedly turn the page that Tony would give anything to know what he was reading.

For Peter to tell him what interested him so much.

As it is, he doesn’t approach. Just watches from the shadows for as long as he can, before slipping out undetected.

He’s particularly good at that, thank years of practising.

The swarms that once worshipped the boy never hang out with Peter anymore, but oddly enough, Peter doesn’t seem to care, or even notice.

Tony can relate to that. Losing Cindy the air-head might actually be a relief. He’s tried to shake her off, but she latches like a leech.

Instead, Peter spends his time with a dreary-eyed girl. A girl Tony knows gets called dyke by the guys in the shower-room.

Tony doesn’t join in their bantering over jokes like that.

She’s cool, though, and clearly doesn’t give a shit. She’ll be something big when she’s out of here, and Tony wants to her see her succeed. Wants to flip on his television set one day in a few years and see her face.

When he gets home that night, he has the book Peter was reading at lunch tucked under his arm (the librarian too, is a sucker for his eyes).

Howard glares at him, kicks at him when he walks past like he’s a mangy mutt, but he makes it to bed and he flips on the switch, snuggled into threadbare sheets, and he reads.

*** Amidst the thrum of music, the boozy smell of alcohol, and lipstick on the back of playing cards, Peter Parker shows up to Liam’s party.

Tony’s halfway through a keg, but he’s not feeling the effects (so what? He’s built up a bit of a tolerance) and people are chanting King Tony! when he spots wavy brown hair and pretty pink lips.

He follows without even meaning to.

Peter’s face is healed now, back to as beautiful as ever. Tony heals fast too.

“Parker,” he greets, when Peter helps himself to punch. “You showin’ your face here?”

Peter smiles. “I was invited.”

That surprises him. “Really? Who’d wanna be seen with a nobody like you?”

“Liam and I go back.”

Well damn, not as fickle as he’d thought then. Anyway, the sight of Peter is thrilling. It’s troubling. “Get the fuck out,” Tony orders, because a rather large part of him wants to- wants to kiss-

“I was just leaving.” The boy corrects, turning away.

There’s a welt on his back.

It peaks out behind the strappy, vintage style blazer. But only just. It’s been cleverly covered up, if Tony wasn’t so familiar with the sight he’d never have spotted it and-

He reaches out, calls for Peter to stop- wait-

But he’s already gone.

*

It’s an obsession.

But it keeps him from the house. He drives around town slowly, cigarette hanging out the corner of his mouth, arm hanging out the window of his car, and he coasts through fancy neighbourhoods, sees wholesome families praying before eating their dinner in their grand dining rooms.

He hates them.

He spots Peter’s pretty red Camaro parked in the driveway of an enormous house.

He parks around the block, comes back, and lingers.

It’s totally normal. The curtains are shut, but Tony can see enough. They have neat hedgerows, cultivated fox gloves, and a bird feeder out front. There are three cars parked neatly, Peter’s, a blue beetle, and a large jeep, all lovingly taken care of and gleaming in the evening light.

The kitchen curtains have charming little frogs on them, the mat out front says welcome.

He can’t have seen a welt on Peter’s back, because that doesn’t fit.

It fits Tony. With his beaten down house, lack of kitchen curtains, lack of prayers, his scratched up, junkyard piece of crap, his bruised knuckles and his split lip.

He’s wrong.

*** His mom’s been saying that Howard’s getting worse.

Tony zones her out. She says stuff like this all the time. Other times she says he’s getting better, then he’s getting worse, but she never does a fuckin’ thing about it.

When he staggers out of the house at three am, bleeding bad, throbbing all over, and he falls into his car- can hear his mother screaming, can hear Howard demanding him to get back inside, he steps on the gas and tails it.

He’s driving to the hospital, hardly able to see through the blood and the pain and the black spots dancing across his vision, when he crashes into a street lamp.

It’s not a bad crash. Another dent in many, he thinks, but he suddenly feels warm all over.

He’s cosy. He could fall asleep.

*** When he wakes up, he’s on a cloud. He’s floating on air.

He blinks and there’s a warm, gold light, and two, beautiful honey eyes.

He’s in heaven.

But that can’t be right, he’s a piece of shit.

“You got that right,” comes a chiding, slightly teasing tone, and he squints against the dimness to see Peter Parker above him, dabbing at him with white cotton buds.

Feeling seems to come back all at once. First, an ache that drags through his whole body, then the blinding sting of whatever hell fire Peter’s putting on his face, third, that Peter’s straddling hm, and it’s a really rather nice hot, weight.

“Mm, baby,” he groans, sliding his coarse hands up Peter’s bare, smooth thighs, “this is a pleasant surprise.” He bucks his hip a little, feels his clothed dick nestle between two plump cheeks. He gets a little burst of pleasure that’s such a fucking relief from the pain that he grinds upwards again.

Peter’s hand is firm on his chest, pressing him down into the bed, not cloud. “You’re hurt, Tony. One problem at a time please.”

Problems. Damn. He has a lot of those.

“Tell me about it,” Peter sighs. “I’ve parked your car at the drive-thru theatre. I left a note at the lamppost. I hope no one minds.”

Tony blinks, dazed, and watches as Peter tends to him. It reminds him of that film his mom used to watch all the time, the fuckin horrible one with the dancing and the singing and the monster.

Beauty and the Beast, his mind supplies.

Peter’s face isn’t pretty. It’s beautiful. Dimples and prominent cheekbones, lovely eyebrows and long lashes. He has freckles and a beauty mark on his jaw, perfect for kissing. His forehead is creased in concentration as he works on Tony’s face, his tongue resting on his lips.

Tony may not be in heaven, but he is looking at an angel.

“Do you really…” he whispers, reaching up a clumsy hand to stroke tenderly at Peter’s face. The boy doesn’t even flinch. “Did you really have a…a belt mark on you…”

Those eyes snap to him, a vulnerability come to light, a hidden truth revealed.

Then they darken, and look away. “You need to get your rest.”

“It doesn’t make sense,” Tony croaks, eyes burning, “you’re perfect. It’s not meant to- not meant to happen to perfect people, only- only broken ones, like-“

“Nobody’s perfect,” Peter whispers wisely, dabbing cream onto his fingers, and then onto Tony’s face.

“Who does it to you?”

“Step dad,” Peter shrugs, “he never hits her, though. I think he misses his own son.”

“I’ll kill him for hurtin’ you, I swear,” he slurs, filled with righteous ire. Who could hurt such an angel-

“That’d be hypocritical.” Peter muses, opening a pack of antiseptic wipes and swiping at Tony’s temple. He’s good at this. He must be well-practised.

Tony drowns in self-loathing. “I’m a shit.” He hisses, “I’m a shit, I’m sorry, but my dad-“

“I understand.” Peter nods, fingers stroking through Tony’s hair. “I empathise. I don’t forgive you. Not yet.”

“You might, though?” Tony urges, craning into every touch. “Maybe?”

Peter grinds down once, making Tony’s dick jolt with arousal. “Maybe.” He whispers.

*** Tony hates his anger management counsellor so fucking much.

But Howard hates him going, so Tony always shows up on time.

Peggy is patient and understanding, but no-nonsense.

When he shows up with bleeding knuckles and a jagged cut on his arm, she offers him a lemon sucker and shakes her head.

“He started it.” Tony hisses, taking a sherbet and sucking on it.

She doesn’t say anything.

“It wasn’t Peter, if that’s what you’re thinking. I would never hurt Pe- I haven’t ever hit Peter again.”

She’s silent.

He feels like a kid. He hangs his head on his chest. “I get so angry.” He whispers.

“And does violence make the anger go away?”

He nods, looking at her through tears. He cries so much nowadays. Peggy says it’s a good thing. “It turns it into power.”

Peggy looks at him, urging him to get there on his own.

“It’s not power,” he mumbles, lemon on his tongue, “I feel helpless.”

“We all do sometimes, Tony,” she smiles, and offers him another lemon drop. “I want to talk about your mom today. About the things you think she likes best about you.”

Tony wants to run and hide, but instead he sits and listens.

* Sometimes, when Peter reaches over to hold Tony’s hand, Tony yanks it away, his whole mood sours, and he storms out.

He always comes back though. Shame-faced, small, and he reaches out for a hug and Peter gives it to him.

He yells sometimes too. When he’s trying really hard not to, it slips out. Horrible things, things he doesn’t mean, things he wishes he could take back but he fears are going to hang there in the air forever.

He always cries afterwards, and calls Peggy.

Peter yells too, from time to time, when he’s fracturing a little, when Kurt presses where it hurts.

Tony holds Peter tight when that happens, kisses his hair all soft and gentle in the ways he never thought he could be, and promises that they’ll both do better. They’ll both be better.

Peter sees Stephen Strange, a counsellor on the other side of town.

Peggy thinks it’s a good idea for Peter and Tony to heal independently of each other, just in case they become a support system for one being, rather than two people.

Strange says you shouldn’t feel guilty for lashing out. Peggy says you should apologise if you’re sorry.

Peter kisses the hollow of Tony’s throat and says: “I want to tell you all the things I love about you.”

By the end of the forty-minute list, Tony has to cut Peter off, because he can’t hear him over his own sobs.

After a month of no violence, Tony’s greeted to Peter covered in flour and icing, holding a poorly shaped cake that says one month of peace is groovy baby.

They eat it in an old tent, camped out on the edge of town. The cake is disgusting, and Tony’s new favourite. 

They have sex in the grass and Tony kisses Peter’s new welt, and says that he deserves so much more than this.

That, if he likes, Tony will try to give it to him.

**

They have a modest house in a modest town. They have curtains with kangaroos on them, and no dining table- just a coffee table with bean bags in front of the television.

They have one nice car that they share.

They have friends.

They meet each other in the drive way, both on their way home from work, and Peter blushes when Tony holds out the bouquet of tulips. “Pretty boy,” Tony grins, as Peter buries his face in the petals. “I heard from a little birdie that it was your wedding anniversary.”

“Mm,” Peter giggles, “that’s weird. Me and my husband promised each other no presents.”

“Ah,” Tony sighs, drawing Peter into his arms, kissing him silly for the whole neighbourhood to see (not that they haven’t seen it before. It’s stupid and reckless but it’s a good town). “So, if we go inside, there’ll be no freshly baked cake on the counter, right? You didn’t sneak home on your lunch break to bake me something?”

Peter sighs. “Who told?”

“Becky. She can’t keep a secret, Pete.”

Peter laughs, and they thread their fingers together and head inside.

It’s not a perfect ending, but it’s happy. They fight, sometimes. They tremble. They remember things they wish they could forget. They break down on the side of the road. They spend nights in motels.

But those are fewer and farther between. And in the end, they always come home- to each other.

The cake is terrible. It always is. But Tony eats every single bite.

It’s the same recipe as the one Peter made all those years ago, after one month of no fights.

It’s stale and it brings back so many memories.

“Is it good?” Peter asks worriedly, putting the tulips in water.

Tony takes a huge bite, and shakes his head in wonder. “Yeah, baby,” he whispers, “even after all this time, it’s still really, really good.”

He thinks it always will be. 

[myheartisahorizon]

CW: mental illness, depression, living in Amerika (es ist nicht wunderbar)

In case you are wondering what it's like being mentally ill, self aware, LGBT+, and broke in America right now, here it is:

I wake up every morning with an intense sense of dread. My anxiety is the first thing that starts up, going through the list of the possible horrors that may have happened while I was sleeping. I check my phone; it doesn't make me feel any better. Reactions to my shit posts on Facebook, an email from my boss about sales numbers, group chats with friends who are feeling just as hopeless as I am populate my screen.

If it's a work day, there's a 50/50 chance I'm able to drag myself out of bed in time to shower, get dressed, and get out the door. Work is a mindless blur of interactions with customers who can't keep their masks on, usually wearing a MAGA hat. Occasionally my co-workers will talk politics (thankfully they hate the annoying orange), or anime. I'm lucky if I can get to the end of my shift without an anxiety attack.

When I get home, I'm usually exhausted. I'm not tired because my job is physically exhausting, but because it's emotionally taxing. My social battery is drained by the forced niceties I'm obligated to make, and it in turn drains my physical strength. I eat, often for the first time that day. My appetite is gone; it has been for the last six months. At this point, I'm barely 100lbs. I'll scroll through Tumblr, Facebook, and Instagram, relishing any opportunity I have to find something that makes me laugh. I sometimes will; more commonly, I find another news story about how things are going even more horribly wrong here. The COVID death toll is now over 200k; an anti-choice justice has been nominated for SCOTUS; Trump only paid $750 in taxes; the DOD is trying to figure out a plan in the event Trump refuses to leave office on election day if he doesn't win reelection. So many people in other countries fuckin hate us, or pity us. I don't blame them; US foreign policy has been absolute shit for decades, and now the world's largest military superpower is on its knees because, well, the chickens came home to roost. Our prideful dick waving got us the human embodiment of pride, greed, gluttony, wrath, sloth, etc in the Oval Office. I didn't vote for him; I never will. I still grieve what could have been had Bernie been the '16 Democratic nominee, but I know that there's no use holding onto that too tightly.

Some weeks, the usual horror show is joined by more instances of our justice system being the dumpster fire it is. George Floyd. Breonna Taylor. The list of names grows longer, the protests angrier, the retribution from the ruling class more enraged. I fear for my loved ones in larger cities. I get angry at the astounding level of ignorance from those who raised me. When it grows to be too much, I open Spotify and dive into music. Rammstein, Emigrate, Aesthetic Perfection, Celldweller, Korn, Orgy, and Lacuna Coil have been some of my favorites lately. I can't listen to Alice in Chains without remembering the last time I actually felt hopeful, enthusiastic, like life was truly wonderful. It hurts. I'm barely holding out for R+'s show in Minneapolis next year.

These thoughts keep me from swirling into darker ponderings. The worry that civil unrest will turn into civil war is lurking at the darkest corners of my mind. Plans for escape swirl, but nothing concrete materializes. I don't know what to do. Therapy is a dead end, I haven't had a therapist I felt I could trust since I was 17. Medication just makes me sick. I am absolutely and completely lost. I can only hope things change for the better on November 3, but it seems unrealistic. I don't know why I keep going, except that I'm too spiteful to die.

[nightcoremoon]

there's lots of tiny brained bad takes of the far left branding things as Bad™ based solely on their association to other things or certain aspects of part of their fanbase.

this isn't to discredit the shit idiot brain fungus plaguing everyone from centrists, the moderate right, the far right, and the alt right, and even some of the moderate left, where they label everything that isn't about a Cishet White Male American Capitalist Bootlicker who's stateist, ambiguously christian/atheist, neurotypical, able-bodied, has "aryan" facial attributes, is an insufferable asshole, and the like, as "SJW garbage".

but see, prejudice and judgment is bad even if it's not motivated by minority demographic. being a rude dismissive asshole is, you know, bad. maybe making fun of a furry or whatever isn't as bad as being a racist, but you're still a fucking dickhead either way. fuck both of you but fuck the racist more. I'll punch both of you but punch the racist twice (maybe a third time for good measure). do y'all understand what I'm trying to get at here with the tiers of badness? the shades of grey? the steps down the path of evil from "kind of rude" to "literally hitler"?

bigotry is not the only bad thing in the world. yeah it's one of the worst, but you can talk about other bad things without discrediting that, which I know is next to impossible for teenagers (or people who never bothered to mentally progress from such) to comprehend.

anyway what sparked this is all the fuckin joker memes. now I went into it expecting, you know, literally taxi driver 2 followed by a silly horror movie about a clown murdering people. which is what the joker of the comics is all about. if I never watched the movie and only saw, what, the killing murray scene, the stairway dancing scene, the trailers, and joaquin phoenix sitting in a padded room and laughing, that's exactly what I'd had gotten.

but like. I fucking watched it because my dad wanted to watch it with me and he fucking loves all things batman (except Ben Affleck). and wolverine but mostly batman. he's a comic nerd. so yeah I went to watch it with him.

and it was legitimately terrifying from a purely psychological perspective. it's LITERALLY the best scary movie I've ever seen without being horror in the slightest. the acting, the writing, the score, the pacing, the cinematography, it was well put together without being a moffat level overproduced mess. it was a good movie. you're allowed to not care for it or not like it but to objectively call it a bad movie is not only a logical fallacy (eye of the beholder) but it also discredits the opinion of every single person who didn't hate it and makes you come off as a pompous fucking asshole rather than having different tastes.

it's about a guy with severe mental trauma in a bad situation trying to make the best of it and care for his family and hold down a job but he gets fucked over from literally every angle and eventually he snaps and makes a mistake and kills the misogynist rich asshats on the train. oh fuck. he could have gone to the police and said self defense and go through the court system but wait, society in gotham doesn't allow for a clean system of justice when you aren't rich. so instead he proceeds to be a major creepazoid turned murdering lunatic blaming everyone else for his own bad situation instead of the whole deal where he did stupid shit like taking a gun into a fucking children's hospital and stuck his fingers inside a child's mouth and stealing shit and falling further down the rabbit hole. until finally, he says fuck it and seeks revenge. the whole bloody mess that follows is his own fault. he chose to kill people. he chose to murder for petty reasons. he made his decisions and he suffered the consequences for it. all of the festering rotten crime in the city spawned by waynecorp's supreme negligence heralded him as a hero and so begins batman's story.

arthur fleck is not a fucking hero. he is a villain through and through. his circumstances were unfortunate but he made the wrong decisions. the world fucked him over and he said okay and retaliated. joker is exactly the fucking same as breaking bad. arthur and walter white are both evil people through their own decisions. but they were once normal people. and that's the point. the scariest monsters in the world are usually the white men angry at the world for their own shortcomings. oswald. ruby. dahmer. bundy. gein. manson. klebold and harris. white. fleck. they're all the filth stuck in the gutter of society that, if left unchecked, has deadly results.

I'm not kidding at all when I say joker was an important movie for myself personally to see exactly when I saw it. because that first half, I'm not gonna lie, it got me. the therapy didn't work and then it was taken away. he didn't eat most days because he had to support his mother. the people he worked with were dickheads, the people he commuted with were dickheads, his boss was a dickhead, people treated him like garbage on the streets. he couldn't remember the trauma inflicted on him when he was a baby but it still warped every aspect of his life. he had aspirations but lacked the skills. he was sad. alone. empty. he was suicidal. he was me.

then he started killing people and using the neighbor girl as a tulpa and I realized oh no oh god oh shit OH FUCK I need to change from this. and I did.

joker is a perfect template of how not to react to the world when it kicks in your teeth. it's a perfect template of a dark movie. just enough to sympathize with the bad guy but not enough to excuse his actions. the opposite of star wars with kylo ren. a good movie. a good character. an amazing actor. a terrible person.

if you watched joker thinking you're watching the story of the protagonist, you're right, but if you conflate protagonist with the good guy, yeah you won't like the fucking movie because it'll leave a sour taste in your mouth. you'll feel slimy. disgusting. unless you're a megadouche shitlord piece of human fucking garbage who wants to cosplay arthur fleck because he's so damn cool like walter white and eric cartman and rick sanchez and bojack horseman and tyler durden and all those FUCKING HORRIBLE LOATHESOME HUMANS TO NEVER EVER TRY TO EMULATE OR YOU ARE AN UNEMPHATIC ASSHOLE AND A MORON TO BOOT.

if you hated the movie, that's fine. you're kinda supposed to hate it. and if you loved the movie, that's fine so long as you understand what the message was. but if it's one of your favorite movies of all time ever made holy shit please go to therapy jesus christ.

still the point of this post is, discrediting the movie as a steaming pile of shit is incredibly ignorant. and as for the "good movies made by white men are only liked by other white men and are therefore bad movies" thing... if y'all can thirst over eddie brock in the trainwreck of venom and admit that the standards of good movie vs bad movie are all subjective, you're a goddamn idiot if you can't apply the same logic and reason to every movie just because some white boys like edgy clowns (even tho joker is way less edgy than pennywise but go off) in abusive relationships with harlequins. oh and assflash newshole, I'm not a white man.

I swear this bandwagoning bullshit is exactly the same mentality as "hurr durr nickelback worst band ever" even though nickelback is ripe with musical talent underneath a few pop songs that they wrote for the record label as part of their career so they can make a fuckin living BECAUSE CAPITALISM IS THE ROOT OF ALL EVIL and also because of all the misogyny that bled its way into the music industry in the 2000s but that's a topic for another day. 'joker bad' and 'nickelback bad' are products of the same mental decay that social media wrought upon us all, inflicting mass mob mentality and incapacity for individualistic rational thought. which is exactly why there's a war between camp 'joker is bad' and 'joker is amazing' and nobody acknowledges the group in the middle that's like 'joker was good objectively but also terrible subjectively and content-wise'. polar. I could make a political statement and also say how the neoliberals and the fascists are at war while the people in the middle are caught in the crossfire and forced to fight like pawns on a chessboard, but the moderate right, dumbass centrists, pastel commies, and pockets of the moderate left, but that just throws everything into chaos.

tl;dr learn to think for yourselves omg

[yuzurk]

「 ARCANA PLOTCALL ! 」

It’s time for Jen to be a huge nerd but fyte me, I like this idea!  I’ll accept 1-2 ppl per arcana! 

Ur muse doesn’t need to have the matching Arcana for the plot but bonus points if they do~ cause yay Confidants!

I would advise maybe doing the test beforehand. If you find a plot however that screams like it fits your muse, feel free to snatch it up either way ♥

PLOTS BELOW THE CUT!

「  0. The Fool  」

When I see you I feel like I’m looking in a mirror and I’m not sure how to feel about it but it’s kind of cool? ( someone with a similar mindset, similar manners and/or similar looks to her basically! ) [ 0/2 ]

「  1. The Magician  」

Your journey took a turn you didn’t expect and you do not like. I’m just here to accompany you and show you that maybe things won’t be as bad as you had imagined! [ 1/2 ]

「  2. The Priestess  」

Hey Miss Prim and Proper, how about I show you how to have a good time and loosen up a little? You seem like you could need it and like you want it but are too scared to do it by yourself? [ 1/1 ]

「  3. The Empress  」

A fine lady if I’ve ever seen one! Your class exceeds mine by length and man you’re just way too sweet to me- hold on what do you mean you want to buy me this dress, have you checked the price tag?! [ 0/1 ]

「  4. The Emperor  」

That charisma, that determination- everything about you inspires me to do my best even when I’m just cleaning this display right here. I’m not looking for love but please just let me appreciate you for a lil while longer as I shamelessly flirt just to fluster the shit out of you. [ 1/2 ]

「  5. The Hierophant  」

So you think you’ve seen the world and you know what’s up, huh? Well how about you tell me in full detail about it and then I show you the complete flip side of it all? ( for more conservative muses maybe ) [ 0/2 ]

「  6. The Lovers  」

Tbqh I don’t understand why people won’t stop bothering you because you’re somewhat popular. Sure you’re great and all but I’ll treat you like a normal human being. If that makes you happy in return now that’s just a plus! Just please don’t fall for me ♥ [ 1/1 ]

「  7. The Chariot  」

You’re damn lucky I love you this much- it’s the only reason I endure all the morning runs and gym visits and every other sporty activity you drag me to. I love sports too and I’m pretty okay in shape but you just take this to a whole fuckin’ new level man! [ 0/1 ]

「  8. The Justice  」

Can you please stop thinking about work or how to save the world for two seconds? Is there like nothing that you do for fun? Don’t you ever just sit down and... chill? Enjoy life? [ 1/2 ]

「  9. The Hermit  」

Like- it’s really cool that your IQ is off the charts but not only do you make me look just a little stupid but you also kind of really can’t expect everyone to just understand whatever you say... For someone so smart your social skills are kind of... yikes. [ 0/2 ]

「  10. The Fortune  」

Listen- I know Tarot readings are really fuckin awesome but if you try to tell me one more time that something awful will happen to me next month if I don’t quit my job I’m going to pour this coffee all over you. I may believe in these readings but I’m the only one responsible of my fate so fuck that shit! [ 0/1 ]

「  11. The Strength 」

Man you’ve been through so much shit- yet you choose to endure and endure instead of trying to find a way out of this. Are you just too used to being in pain or do you genuinely not want to be happy? Either way I’m here to give you a wake up call and hold your hand step for step. Happiness is a look that suits everyone, especially you! [ 1/1 ]

「  12. The Hanged Man  」

Like a loser by day and a super hero at night. Now I don’t like getting down and serious about things but the mess you maneuvered yourself into is really fucked up. All I can do is just kind of try to be there as you find your way out of this, landing a hand here and there maybe. [ 0/1 ]

「  13. Death  」

It seemed like everything was just done for but every end has a new beginning. And wow, would you look at that, I’m kind of at a new beginning right now too! So why don’t we start on a new journey together? [ 1/1 ]

「  14. The Temperance  」

You are a hot mess. Too many thing to do, too little time to manage it all. What you lack is time management my friend. I could help you with that I guess- but watching you struggle is just way too cute and funny. Maybe I’ll help when it gets real bad... until then you gotta learn your lessons the hard way. [ 0/1 ]

「  15. The Devil  」

There’s something real sadistic about you that’s scary as fuck. And yet you’re one of the nicest people I ever met and I’m pretty sure you’d never do anything to hurt me. Right...? [ 2/2 ]

「  16. The Tower  」

The higher they rise, the lower they fall. One of these days... you’ll get what’s coming to you. As much as I wanna hate you for your ignorance though, seeing you so bruised and beaten up I can’t help but offer you at least a cup of coffee to warm you up a little. At least until you get cocky again and I’m back to wanting to pour that coffee all over you- seriously get your shit together! [ 0/1 ]

「  17. The Star  」

There’s only one word to describe you: bright, so bright that it hurts my eyes sometimes. Your purity and joyful charms make me want to squish your cheeks and keep you save and protected so no evil will ever reach you. Never lose your naivety and positive world view. I will murder everyone who hurts you by the way. [ 0/1 ]

「  18. The Moon  」

You’re so fake it hurts. I don’t know if you’re just that insecure about who you really are or if you just try to be someone you’re not for fun but please just... stop. I’ve been playing along, pretending I don’t notice but I’ve never been the best at lying and you seem like you know I see right through you so can we please just end this charade for both our sake and you tell me what your issue is? [ 1/2 ]

「  19. The Sun  」

Sometimes you just wanna dive your head deep into the Matrix. With you it feels like my image of the world changes every time we talk. I could listen to you for hours on end and never get tired of what you think about the world and your surroundings. Despite not being in the best situation you somehow never lose your optimistic nature and for that alone I admirer you deeply. [ 0/1 ]

「  20. The Judgment  」

At the end of the day, when all is said and done, you’re the person I most likely go to. Whether it’s just a five minute phone call, some voice mails back and forth or actually nuzzling up in the comfort of a familiar warmth; you make me feel like home. For that I hold a deep gratitude. ( definitely needs refined plotting! ) [ 1/1 ]

[pbjpuppy]

do every oc question but with horsepower PLEASE

DUDE I WAS SO HOPING SOMEONE WOULD ASK ABT HER IM SO EXCITED

THIS IS SO LONG SO I’M PUTTING A READMORE

1. Do they sleep with a stuffed animal? If they have multiple, who’s the favorite?

SHE does Not surprisingly!! BUT similarly to Giovanni with his kids, Serene is always sleeping next to her bc she’s Warm and Soft so it’s like, kinda the same thing 

She IS the type to love sleeping with a ton of pillows though

2. Can they take care of a plant? What about a pet? What about a child?

Horsie doesn’t have the world’s greenest thumb but she could probably keep a houseplant alive!! She likes nature a lot she’s just not stellar at gardening

She would be REALLY GOOD with a pet though that animal would THRIVE and she’d be the type to take like 400 pictures of her pet and spam everyone with them like “Look at this Fucking Angel” 

And she’s DEFINITELY GOOD W KIDS seeing as she’s basically raising Serene!! Serene can testify that she’s the Best babysitter (even if she accidentially taught Serene like. 20 separate curse words gdgjdsk) 

3. Ask them to describe their love interest.

OOH FUN DIALOGUE

“Um, she’s.. REALLY pretty. Like, really fuckin’ pretty. I think she made me like, 17% more lesbian the first time I saw her. And like, we’ve known each other for a long time and we know each other’s secrets n’ stuff… ahahah, that came out really weird! I just mean we’re good friends, y’know? Hah. Anyway, she’s a bad bitch, I’d die for her. Love her.”

Her love interest is actually a character named Destiny who I havent drawn yet!!

4. Do they look good in red?

I think she could pull it off bc red is in her color scheme but also like.. there’s already so much warm colors!! I think she looks the best in gray or black tbh (like imagine her in a black suit or something she’d look SNAZZY)

5. Speech! Speech! Speech! Speech! Will they give one, and what about?

“HHuuh WHAT AM I S’POSED TO TALK ABOUT? Fuck. Uh. Respect lesbians.” Mic drop

6. Who will they take advice from, no matter what it is? Who won’t they take advice from, no matter what it is?

She’ll ALWAYS take advice from her friends, especially Destiny, bc she trusts them to know when she’s being too hot-headed or rash- There’s a character in her friend group who hasn’t got a name yet but he’s REALLY good at giving advice!!

She will NEVER take advice from her old rival Lockjaw, and she shouldn’t- he’s always out to sabotage her somehow and plays dirty a lot of the time, and he’s known to be a huge liar (Plus they just hate each other)

7. Describe them in three words. Now let them describe themself in three words.

My three words: Fiery, protective, loving!!

Her three words: “Uh.. Gay. Handsome. Wait, scratch that. Gay, HOT, optimist.”

8. Do complex puzzles intrigue or frustrate them?

She WANTS to be intrigued but she just gets frustrated and crumples up the paper after a few minutes if it’s not a super easy riddle sjhsjf she knows by now that it’s just Not Worth It

9. Do they empathize with non-sentient things (dolls, plants, books…)?

She only usually does with like people (or I guess furry)-shaped objects like stuffed animals and dolls, and even then not to an extreme degree- it’s really Serene who has the EXTREME empathy and empathizes with everything!!

10. What age do they most want to be right now?

THIS IS SUCH AN INTERESTING QUESTION she misses being a kid like Serene is a lot, but she’s pretty happy where she is- she’s in a better place than she has been for a long time at the current point of her story! If anything, she wishes she could go back and tell her middle/high school self that things are gonna be okay

11. They’ve won the lottery. Spend, or save?

She’d SAY she’s gonna save it and REALLY try but she wouldn’t be able to resist splurging on some really cool stuff bc COME ON she won the LOTTERY!! She’d also wanna buy gifts for the Monster family because she wants to thank them for how generous they’ve been to her so it’s really very wholesome 

12. Do they like romance in the books they read (or in the book they’re in)?

She doesn’t READ that’s for NERDS

JUST KIDDIN but nah she’s not really one for “mushy stuff” and prefers action/adventure stories!! She’s also a fan of mysteries and anything that’s not Painfully Heterosexual 

13. Name one thing their parents taught them.

Her parents weren’t the best, but they did teach her very good manners- she did go through a BIG rebel phase where she definitely was Not as polite, but overall her politeness and natural charisma really help her out in social situations (especially when she has to get favors from people and stuff)

14. Would they agree with the term ‘guilty pleasure’? Do they have any?

I think she’d agree with the term in a general sense!! I’m not sure exactly what guilty pleasures she has, probably just the fact that she can be kind of a thrill-seeker and take unnecessary risks- not involving Serene though ofc

15. What would they consider a waste of time– other than school or work?

The first thing that came to mind is that she considers arguing with people you KNOW aren’t gonna change their mind to be a waste of time- Especially when it comes to social justice type issues she knows not to waste her energy on people who just won’t listen (but she’s argumentative by nature and usually ends up doing it against her better judgement)

16. If money wasn’t a limit, what would they wear?

LEATHER JACKETS AND COOL BOOTS AND SUCH!! She’d also wanna buy a bunch of cool pins to put on said jacket (And she’d probably have to get it tailored bc of her wings too which would also be money..) She would also probably get some kind of cool patterned horseshoes!!

17. Do they like children?

Yes she DOES and Serene is her favorite (Even though she calls her a booger)

19. Do they study before tests? Practice before job interviews?

NOPE she usually dives into most things headfirst, which can be VERY UNWISE but she feels like it keeps her brain clear to not stress about stuff beforehand  

20. What do they like that nobody else does?

HMM… I don’t really have an answer for this one tbh!! I’ve been thinking about it for a bit, the only thing that I can think of is that she likes waking up REALLY early and the smell of smoke, but lots of people also like those things

21. What would it take for them to break up with someone? What would be the last straw?

She’s actually really bad at getting out of situations like that, like if she’s in a relationship she’s not happy in she’s bad at getting herself out of it- but probably something that really make her realize she needs to get outta there would be if the other person seriously hurt her on purpose 

22. Do they like being called pet names? Do they call other people pet names? What’s their go-to?

She LOVES pet names and calls EVERYONE pet names (unless they’re not comfortable ofc)!! Nicknames are kinda hard to make from “Horsepower” so a lot of the time she’s given weird affectionate pet names instead, it’s somthing that she’s kinda known for

DEFINITELY her go-to pet name is “babe”, she calls almost everyone that and I like to imagine that it’s very soothing bc she has a lovely deep voice.. other go-to pet names are baby, hon and love!! She has a lot of personal nicknames/pet names for individual people though 

Tbh she only really refers to someone as their full name if she doesn’t know them or if she’s mad at them shfshf

23. Stability or novelty?

Novelty!! Stability is important to her but she gets bored and anxious if she’s stuck in the same routine for too long, that’s why she likes taking care of Serene bc Serene is ALWAYS doing new things

24. Honesty or charity?

Ooh that’s difficult… Once again both are important values to her, but I’m gonna go with honesty- she’s a very (bluntly) honest person

25. Safety or possibility?

Possibility!! As established before she’s kinda a daredevil she doesn't care about SAFETY (unless it’s anyone else but her doing it then she’s gonna lecture them)

26. Talent or effort?

Effort!! She is EXTREMELY passionate and such an overachiever about everything shkfskh it’s like Hey Horsepower Can You Do This Simple Task For Me and she’s like Oh You Wanted Me To Change The World? I’ll Do That

27. Forgiveness or vengeance (or…)?

Definitely vengeance she holds grudges REALLY BAD and as kind as she tries to be if someone who hurt her or her friends gets hurt… she can’t help being satisfied

30. What would they do if they knew it would be forgiven?

OH THATS A HEAVY QUESTION since she holds grudges so bad she’s probably try to get revenge on Lockjaw for all the grief he’s caused her over the years, if she knew she’d be off the hook she’d get really nasty about it bc her anger at him has just been Boiling for years 

WOW THAT TOOK A WHILE BUT IT WAS SO EXTREMELY FUN THANK U SO MUCH FOR ASKING!!! I’ll do the other one tomorrow bc I need to go to BED 

Also I did cut out a few questions!! I either didn’t wanna answer them or I had answered them before 

[musiciatee]

Dude, please tell me everything about Simone and Mike. I need to know! Also, I want to make headcannons for Simone and my MCU oc, Rhianna Stark. I need them to get me through work!

okay so i just gave a huge rambling summary of what i have in mind so far for these two, but the tl;dr is that these two babies get radioactive shit blown up in their faces and they have to deal with the freaky consequences and simone lowkey accidentally becomes a vigilante under the name “Ghost” while mike is just trying not to lose his mind

as for headcanons, omg strap in

simone fuckin’ hates math, like… cannot stand it… give her a microscope and some slides and she’s in her element but numbers? nah she can do without them, so catch her always talking to rhianna about tryna help her with the subject

i have this vivid mental image of simone sitting in the back seat of a car that riri is working on just writing songs and playing her guitar to fill the silence

the duets…. they just… sing all the time… it’s a whole thing

they can sit and talk about social justice topics for hours

they go to protests and marches together, like they make signs and things and maybe even have like… a twitter page and instagram account for their advocacy work

correct me if i’m just completely off my mark but i feel like if they’re good friends that riri might offer to help simone out once in a while out of some tough financial situations but simone’s just way too proud to ever except help like that

riri gives a check to mike instead and he has no issues with cashing that baby in immediately

they accidentally find out about each other’s extracurricular work when they both show up to the same active crime scene, but like… riri is in this badass high tech suit and simone’s in all black, like… leggings or ripped up skinny jeans and a large hoodie with a scarf covering her nose and mouth.  

simone hates coffee and she can’t ever imagine why rhianna is so obsessed with it

simone can get really easily overwhelmed and riri’s actually one of the few people who can bring her back down and ground her. 

i love these two beans and if you can come up with any more, i’d absolutely love to hear what you can come up with (also feel free to ask more about her and her personality, i know there’s not much about her yet!)

[dragimal]

How different are the crybaby characters compared to the characters in the manga? I haven't been able to watch it since I only have hulu and amazon prime.

(if u ever wanna watch it I could maybe try to set up a rabb.it for anyone interested and mooch my roommate’s netflix for a few viewing events. big maybe tho, I haven’t had a lot of personal time lately, and I don’t see that changing soon..)

for my own convenience I’m gonna try to do a compare/contrast list (+ personal “ideal” versions b/c why not). also, I must repeat my disclaimer that it’s been a minute since I read the og manga so some details may be warped by my memory

Ryo:

OG pre-Satan: 

environmentalist, conspiracy theorist, flips wildly between completely neutral/dead-pan and hysterical (which could be for any emotion– he could be hysterically happy, hysterically mad, etc.). he’s not the best strategist and often makes snap decisions (ex– doesn’t super give a shit abt blowing his cover, as long as he can make a clean/quick getaway). his “sacrifice the few for the many” approach is questionable, but ultimately logical in a battle for the survival of humanity as a whole. more likely to seriously injure than outright murder people. pretty desperate to keep Akira by his side. he’s basically the right image below

OG post-Satan: 

they actually face their mistakes and realize that by trying to wipe out humans, they turned into a version of the God they opposed, ultimately trying to wipe out a whole race of beings that deserve to live as much as anyone else, despite their faults. this is ultimately a lesson on Satan’s hubris, and lends to a thematically satisfying (and soul-crushing) ending

(x)

Crybaby pre-Satan: 

basically cool/collected throughout, with very few moments where he loses his cool (or has much emotion at all, really). seems like he knows what he’s doing most of the time, and most of his decisions seem to have a far-reaching goal that was planned ahead. indiscriminately kills everyone who poses even the slightest threat to his plans, despite the fact that his plans are supposedly for the sake of humanity. doesn’t seem super attached to Akira, beyond using Akira for his goals. basically the left image above

Crybaby post-Satan: 

Akira apparently taught Satan that love exists and is good? idk, the whole point of the OG plot was that Satan’s love of the demons pushed them to hate humanity. I think this is actually the main structural change that ruins the entire demon/Satan-revenge arc of Crybaby irreparably, b/c basically everything falls apart if Satan doesn’t feel any love or even obligation to the demons. like, if Satan doesn’t love demons already, then what’s even the point? as can be seen by the lack of cohesion/logic in anything Satan or their lackeys do, Crybaby clearly doesn’t know either. it’s also not a super effective approach when u can’t actually feel the love Satan/Ryo apparently has for Akira, and have to have it spelled out in the last 5 minutes of the series :/

Ideal Ryo: 

OG Ryo, in all respects (aesthetics, personality, etc.). tho I do like Crybaby’s puffy white coat, that’s 100% fashion-disaster OG Ryo

Akira:

OG pre-Amon: 

very skittish– will avoid confrontation as much as possible, but will still stick around to protect those he cares abt, even if he’s scared shitless. wary of weird stories abt demons, and rightfully questions their validity

OG post-Amon:

(edited w/ thessaliah’s input)

fiercely protective of humans until he realizes the atrocities they’re committing against themselves and devilmen, at which point he completely denounces humanity. thus, shows a strong sense of justice over forgiveness

Crybaby pre-Amon: 

obliviously cheerful and trusting– I’m legitimately not sure if he’s actually brave or just too dense to recognize danger as it comes. doesn’t question weird stories abt demons, and is ready to step right into the frying pan w/ barely an ounce of information beforehand

Crybaby post-Amon: 

(edited w/ thessaliah’s input) 

cries a lot, which I think is a nice visual metaphor for his inner humanity. much more forgiving of humanity, even when he sees humans at their worst.

Ideal Akira: 

personality-wise, I’d have to say OG, particularly for pre-Amon. while Crybaby pre-Amon is kinda cute in his obliviousness, I prefer the Akira who will knowingly jump into danger for those he loves, despite how scared he is. + I was so mad when Crybaby Akira didn’t question ANYTHING abt Ryo’s demonic explanations, like wtf dude u just swallowed that shit hook line and sinker, huh? 

on reflection, I also prefer OG post-Amon, b/c I think it’s a lot more soul-crushing to see this ~largely~ idealistic character finally finally get worn down to the point of just giving up on those he was trying to protect. Crybaby’s overly-idealistic approach isn’t necessarily bad, but I do think it smooths out Akira’s rough edges a bit too much for my liking. tho Crybaby def has a leg-up thematically when it comes to the crying, I love that so much

aesthetically I could go for either, but I think I’d ideally love the look of everything Crybaby Akira + OG sideburns/mullet lmfao

Miki:

OG: 

prideful as a personality trait, thus takes any slight as a personal offense. unashamed, but simultaneously defensive of her abilities (namely has some internalized misogyny in the beginning, which she eventually overcomes). impulsive and somewhat socially dense, which leads her to being unintentionally harsh in situations where she thinks she’s trying to enact “tough love”. could be read as (obnoxiously) selfish in situations where she wants Akira to fit her standards, and doesn’t question his changed state (and more importantly, doesn’t miss the ‘old Akira’)

Crybaby: 

proud of her accomplishments, but not necessarily defensive of her position– she’s secure enough in her abilities to not feel threatened. thoughtful of those around her and what they may be going through. possibly too trusting, considering the whole situation w/ her agent. actually seems aware and somewhat wary of Akira’s changed state, even if she does like it

Ideal Miki: 

this one’s tough b/c as much as I hate OG Miki and Akira’s relationship, there are certain negative traits that I think give OG Miki a more dynamic character than Crybaby. like OG’s socially dense, unintentionally harsh approach is p interesting to see, esp if it’s highlighted as a point of growth for her. of course, I want to completely trash the way OG Miki treats Akira in terms of throwing him into dangerous situations and harshly criticizing his pre-Amon character, but I wouldn’t necessarily mind seeing her sometimes harshly criticize Akira’s decisions in a way that is clearly framed as her trying to help Akira (even if it isn’t necessarily the most ideal approach). I also love OG Miki’s bubbly, unashamed personality, which is a gr8 contrast to her harsh approach to social situations

as for Crybaby, I fuckin ADORE Miki’s relationship w/ Miko, which I think only works the way it does b/c Crybaby Miki is securely proud, not defensively prideful like OG. plus, OG Miki’s defensive pride is p damn annoying to me, ESPECIALLY her internalized misogyny, god I want that completely trashed. yeah, OG eventually grows past the misogyny, but it feels less like satisfying character development, and more like a relief, like, “oh thank god she ain’t pullin’ that shit anymore” 

I suppose, given all this, my ideal Miki is one that combines OG’s social harshness/denseness (to a logical/understandable degree), bubbly temperament, and impulsiveness, with Crybaby’s secure pride in her abilities and actual physical prowess (+ Crybaby’s love of cats, which is adorable and relatable)

Miko:

OG: 

tbh I had to look her up again b/c I completely forgot her arc/personality. idk if that’s on her actually being a boring character, or if it’s just the fact that her arc was dropped in the middle of all the other wild bullshit of the main plot wayyyy at the end of the series

anyways, she’s a former delinquent trying to reform herself, but her old gang/posse won’t leave her alone, and she’s all stressed out over being half-demon. I don’t remember her personality necessarily being affected by the demon, which is kinda odd. also her demon form is some tiddy/pussy-volcano ridiculousness

Crybaby: 

it’s worth noting that the actual, literal OG Miko makes a very brief appearance in Crybaby as one of the half-demon test subjects held captive by scientists– volcano-tits and all. personally, I count this as OG Miko’s actual Crybaby counterpart, but for the sake of comparing important characters, I’ll be comparing OG Miko to main Crybaby Miko since they share a name and an actual arc in each respective series

Crybaby Miko is insecure and wants so very badly to prove herself to others, especially Miki. this is especially potent considering Miko’s actual name is Miki, but she’s forced to stick with Miko as a name b/c Miki’s popularity/prowess overshadows any other potential Miki. post-demon, this jealousy manifests itself as an insatiable competitive streak, as Miko now has the ability to not only reach Miki, but surpass her level. Miko eventually realizes that at least part of her insecurity was misplaced affection for Miki. thus, part of Miko’s desire to be on the same playing field as Miki was so she could feel worthy of potentially dating her. also, Miko’s demon form is some kinda spider creature

Ideal Miko: 

just b/c of her personal/thematic connection to Miki, I’d have to vote Crybaby Miko for almost all traits. I rly love her arc in Crybaby, and she’s a lot more personally connected to the plot than OG Miko is (considering OG Miko appears super late in the game, and barely interacts w/ Devilman). 

though I do like the idea of a former delinquent trying to reform herself– it might be kinda interesting to integrate that into Crybaby Miko. maybe have her be a delinquent before she met Miki (I can’t remember how long they knew each other in Crybaby, but I’m thinking maybe have Miko be a middle school delinquent, then a reformed high-schooler). it might be especially interesting to see how Miko struggles to restrain a delinquent side that was used to getting what she wanted, then have it all fall apart when she’s merged with a demon 

Crybaby Miko is also more interesting aesthetically, in all her forms (human, devilman, and demon). I’m esp super gay for her devilman form, while her full-demon form is such a huge improvement on tiddy-volcanoes. I do like OG’s hat tho, I wish Crybaby could have OG’s hat

Bullies/Rappers:

OG:

a little fuzzy on the details of these guys as well, but I mostly remember their overall arc

in the OG, these guys are straight-up bullies/delinquents, and aren’t there to fuck around. at first, they’re extremely aggressive towards Akira and Miki, and straight-up threaten to rape Miki. later on, once Akira gains their respect (and the world starts goin to shit), they become reliable, rough-around-the-edges friends, and try to protect Akira and Miki as much as they can

Crybaby:

these guys seem like harmless, disenfranchised rappers. they could be read as dangerous when they first approach Miki, but I honestly don’t think they would have done anything even if Ryo hadn’t intervened– I think they were just trying to scare her. Kukun in particular plays a significant role in Miko’s arc (however brief). they all rap about the hardships and injustices of society in a way that fits p well w/ the plot

Ideal bullies:

I rly love the OG bullies for how they go from aggressively antagonistic to aggressively protective of Akira and Miki. however, I rly hate exactly how aggressive they start out (namely, their willingness to straight-up rape Miki), which kinda sours their connection to Akira/Miki later on. it’s, uh, hard to forget something as serious as that, even when the ppl in question do seem to have changed some

as for Crybaby, I rly love how the rappers are a misfit group that makes comments abt society at large as the story progresses. + the rapping itself is p damn entertaining. I also, of course, adore Kukun’s relationship w/ Miko

it’s hard to say which I like more, but I’d def have to cut legitimate rape threats from the OG characters to truly appreciate them. as a way of merging some of their best traits, it might be interesting to see the stakes raised w/ the Crybaby rappers, and have them carry knives and make actual threats against Miki/Akira’s safety at first (again, w/o the rape threat,,), only to find out later it’s just a facade they put up for their own safety (but still won’t back down if they actually ARE up against trouble)

closing comment I guess

I think those are all the characters I feel like talking abt. I could talk abt other characters who got some significant changes (like Miki’s parents, or Akira’s parents), but I didn’t feel any particular way abt them in the OG or Crybaby, so they’re not rly worth my personal time ¯|_(ツ)_/¯

[gayforsaturdays]

Is Billy Hargrove Racist??

Yes, yes he is.

That doesn't necessarily negate the possibility of a redemption arc, however.

Before I begin, I'd like to say that I am not promoting racist ideals.  I am always down for intelligent, respectful discussion, key word respectful, so please feel free to make a counterargument - respectfully.

We live in turbulent times.  With Cheeto Voldemort in power it seems to many as though racists have taken over.  This has been a long time coming, though, racist ideas implicit in the founding of America and evolving throughout our history.  Just because racism is not as overt as it was in the fifties doesn't mean it's gone, and that the average white American is immune to its effects.  Racism is the elephant in the room that we Do Not Talk About, showing its face in ideas and stereotypes and implicit biases so ingrained into our culture that we don't even recognize them for what they are.  When we do recognize racism, it is easy to make it the Other.  This is hatred, I do not hate, I am not a part of this.  This is what I see happening in fandom, but this is not where anti-racism needs to go in order to make real impact.

The Duffer Brothers have real potential here.  They are poised on a cliff in front of a vast audience.  Will Billy Hargrove get a redemption arc to parallel our dearest Steve, or will he tip over the edge to become a villain?  If he is redeemed, will his racist comments be swept under the rug?  In a show which has done excellent work creating extraordinarily human characters with foibles and flaws, after all the work they put into Billy this season without seemingly much reason, I don't think that Billy will go without some form of redemption.  His bully arc appears to be over, and considering his father's abuse and his own PTSD, to vilify him now would feel like another depiction of mentally ill people as evil. They would absolutely need to address his racist remarks in this instance, though. 

To give another explanation for Billy's outburst over Lucas is a cop-out, one of the most common when it comes to racism.  Not My Problem.  I don't want to deal with it, so I'm just going to pretend it isn't there.  This is silence, and silence is complicity - if we don't speak up, it will never end. 

To vilify Billy and his racism would actually be damaging as well, though.  I know that sounds bad, but hear me out.  Remember how I said that racism is a set of ideas and biases and stereotypes ingrained into our culture?  Those ideas and biases and stereotypes are bought into, often unknowingly, by average white people all across the country.  Average, white, human persons.  Human beings whose primary defining feature is not "a racist" - not white hoods and burning crosses.  This is where the potential with Billy lies - to show that a person who holds racist ideas is still a human being, and can even let go of those ideas as they learn and grow, as humans do.  The only way we can really dismantle racism is from the inside out, calling out our own ingrained prejudices and changing hearts and minds. 

It wouldn't even be that difficult to do with Billy - as his redemption arc begins, he'll want to distance himself from every vestige of his father.  With Neil tossing the f-word around so nonchalantly, I don't doubt that Billy's father has been the major influencer in his beliefs.  I want to see Max calling Billy out on his misguided distrust of Lucas, in explicit terms.  Leave no doubt as to the fact that Billy has inherited racist ideas from his father.  If Max and Billy have a conversation like this, perhaps Billy can begin to realize that this too is part of his father's legacy.  I want to see him awkwardly trying to reach out to Lucas, having no idea how to talk to him or apologise, committing little microaggressions like white people do all the time.  Have him say something that people say all the time and have Lucas give him the Lucas Look of Wtf, Bro (tm) so people will go oh, that's not a good thing to say.  I want to see Billy and Max go to pick up Lucas and Erica opens the door and totally calls him out, super sassy, because I fuckin love her ok Erica is the shit.  I want to see Billy experiencing white discomfort and realizing that he was wrong - not just about Lucas specifically because that gets into exceptionalist territory, but about people of color.  I want to see Billy feeling bad about everything he's done and believed and actively wanting to change, taking real steps towards making amends and becoming a better person, because that's what he is - just another human person stuck on this rock.  Separate the idea from the human being so that people can see racism as a set of ideas we all need to fight, both internally and externally, instead of a group of people separate from self ("the racists").

Please don't hate on people for being drawn to Billy, for shipping Harringrove.  People who see the humanity and the potential of Billy's character.  Because he does have potential, both as a person and to be an expositional tool for a lot of good social justice work that could reach a lot of people.  Not just anti-racism work either, but definitely anti-sexism and potentially anti-homophobia as well.  I want to see Max and Nancy and Eleven and even, most definitely, Steve calling him out on his overuse of the word bitch and treating women like sex objects.  He also holds potential as a queer character - if you read him as queer as I and many others do, his father's abuse is even more tragic because it features so heavily homophobia and toxic masculinity.  If Billy were canonically queer, it would make a tremendous amount of sense for the amount of anger that he carries (not that being a hormonal teenager with PTSD isn't enough).  Here his father is yelling at him not to be a f*****, beating him, and Billy believing that he's right, that liking guys is wrong, that he deserves these beatings because his father is right about him.  Show us Billy, the non-stereotypical queer guy, learning that his father was wrong and learning to accept himself and let go of his self-hatred.

Having thoroughly bashed Neil, it is necessary to recognize that he, too, is human.  Everything that he believes and does is ugly and twisted, but he is driven by fear and shaped by the culture he lives in.  He sucks, but there are men like him everywhere and every one of us has to work to change our culture so that we stop creating men like him so that they will stop creating and damaging boys like Billy.  We need to hold hope close that we can change people's hearts and minds, but we can only accomplish this without hatred. 

This is what I want to see in the next season.  You have a huge audience and a fantastic platform for wonderfully human characters, Duffer bros.  You can do something really amazing with it.

[wonderwoman2-23]

Scandal Finale Season 7:04 “Lost Girls”

Hellooooo Scandal Sisters, welcome to the Olitz Coven🌓✨✨. Please have a seat as we sip on this Chamomile Tea darlings. This tea was brought to us by none other than Olitz 🌪.

This season easily gonna be top 3 for me. If they continue on this path of bringing Olivia back and speaking on Today’s problems like they are! I love how they are incorporating these social issues 👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽. It almost feels like season 1&2, back when Gladiators ruled the world and not some b613 junkies but I won’t start 👐🏽🙄.

😎 Fitz Effect: So we open up in the hallway. Fitz, Olivia, Curtis, and secret service are all standing around. Fitz is lookin like you gonna introduce us or Na and Curtis takes it upon himself to speak first (as you should lil fucker!)

Curtis to Fitz “President Grant 🤝 it’s an honor.” (Damn right it is.)

Olivia “What are you doing here?”

Fitz “ I was hoping for your help on some business but if it’s a bad time.”

So Curtis leaves without being told (good he knows his place 👋🏽😎)

Fitz: “that’s exciting”

Me: 🤣🤣🤣🤣 did he really just say that #Petty

So Olivia turns around and her face shows emotion “what are you doing here?”

Fitz hands her an envelope and starts to explain the case and she gets an attitude quick! She tried to hand it back to him, but his hands were in his pockets. He was letting it be known he wasn’t taking it back. Liv talks about how she’s busy, trying to organize a summit and Fitz was like “it’s right up your alley.” She gets flustered and turns around tryna open the elevator 🤣 it’s not a door Olivia! She was tryna escape, I’m tryna figure out why and then boom‼️ shit‼️ got‼️ real‼️

Olivia with her back turned.

Fitz: Olivia

Olivia: Was. Was up my Alley, this isn’t. Your not suppose to be here. We’re not *chokes*

Me: 😱🍿🍿🍿🍿☕️sip tea ladies.

Olivia C. Pope got choked up. She couldn’t bring herself to say “we’re not together?” 🤔 Now I can remember a few times in the past Fitz has had this effect on her. But this isn’t the same Olivia, this is command Olivia. I run the world Olivia. She’s not suppose to be feeling any emotions 🤷🏽‍♀️ or at least that’s what she wants us to believe ☕️.

Fitz isn’t letting up about her helping with this case , she gets mad. She tries to tell him to go to Quinn and Fitz says “I don’t want Quinn Perkins, I want you.” And Olivia twirled around so quick “well you can’t have me.” Listen Scandal is all about double meanings. We all know Fitz is putting on a front with this case, although it is a good cause, his real reason for coming was her. He really came back to say Olivia, I want you. And Liv is really saying You can’t have me because I’m running B613, and your love has always been made to be my weakness. 🤧🤧

‼️🤔but hol’ up.. 🗣 whose fault is it that she feels this way??? ‼️ and by the way all of this happened within 1 minuet of the show 👀

QPA: The gang is all together - Olivia.

Charlie was like how much we getting paid, we got a wedding to pay for 😂😂 you got the save the date right.

B613 🙄🤣: Joke was tryna really be professional and talk about Pres Rashaad and knowing who his enemies are. And then he says “we need to talk about hiring more agents.” Olivia didn’t hear none of that shit cuz she was like “I need you to look into Fitz.”

Me:🤣🤣🤣🤣 Boy boy boy Pete must really hate his life. He gotta spy on the man he can’t even measure up to be. *cackles* Olivia really told her old boytoy to spy on the love of her life. Man I know Pete feels like shit *lil uzi shoulder dance*

And of course Pete reminds her that Fitz went 3 months without wanting to see her 🙄 damn bitch you salty ain’t it. But Olivia was like boy fuck you “We had an understanding.” “He stays away and keeps his nose out of my business.” (Her b613 business cuz he’s not suppose to know ☕️)

Joke: What are you afraid of?

Olivia: I don’t know

Me: Love. You’re afraid of love.

‼️🗣 and once “a fuckin gain” whose fault is it that she is afraid of love😤‼️

QPA: so back at QPA , they are trying to find the perfect black girl who has a white name and squeaky clean background so white amerikkka can pay attention to missing black girls 😤😠😡

Rowan 😕: Fitz and Rowan meet up and Rowan is skeptical about Fitz plan. But Fitz 🤗😍 my boy! Fitz let’s him know a case is the way to Olivia’s heart. “Remind her who she is, what she cares about” 😭😭😭🤧👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽 Get our girl back to her roots Fitz, she’s definitely not on the dark side yet. She’s walking that line but she hasn’t tipped over. And let’s just take a minute to admire Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III, this man knows his woman. 😍 damn when Fitz walked away I couldn’t help but to admire that walk 😩 damnit Tony!

😒And once again Rowan shows us why he is the worst father in the world 😤 “the case isn’t her bait. You! You are. You are her weakness, it is why I always hated you with the passion of 1000 suns.”

Me: well bitch if you hated me so damn much why tf you begging me to save ya daughter! Send Jake to do it, oh he can’t cuz he a piss poor mans Fitzgerald 🤣🤣. Or get another agent cuz ya sorry ass love dangling Dick in front of Olivia to control her 👿 damn I just wanna stop a hole in Rowan’s ass 😤‼️ I told yal he 👏🏽 is 👏🏽 not 👏🏽 to 👏🏽 be 👏🏽 trusted👏🏽

Fitz is better than me cuz I promise I wouldn’t have no dealings with Rowan manipulative ass! He’s the reason behind this anyway. Had he left Olivia life alone she wouldn’t have went this way. Olivia was fine until Rowan came and tried to rip her away from Fitz. How many times did we watch Olivia feel helpless and powerless and it all came from Rowan. Now I’m not blaming all of Olitz problems on Rowan but yal know he has his hand in majority of them. What Father sends men to sleep and spy on his own daughter? You created that monster and now since she’s taken your power away you run yo ass to her “weakness” and now you need his help to get her back on track 💅🏽 oh how sweet is this irony. 🗣Rowan fuck you. Fuck them fake ass tears we at the Olitz Coven do not believe you at TF all✌🏽.

How’s Vermont?: Olivia is in her office and her secretary comes in and tells her that Marcus wants to see her and that Curtis has been calling. Olivia tells her to send Marcus in and tell Curtis she’s unavailable ☕️👀. Marcus comes in because he wants to see Mellie but of course Olivia is cock blocking. And also he tells her they found a Tv friendly black girl and that she should come by the office and get her hands dirty. Olivia says “this is my office, my hands are plenty dirty.” 🙄 She then starts to type on her laptop asks “How’s Vermont?” To which Marcus answers “Cold. White.” And she says “No I mean how’s Fitz. In Vermont.” To which Marcus answers “Cold. White.” Cold as in Miserable, white as in entitled.” Fitz has never been a bad guy to me so them trying to act as if he forces people to get in line was BS. Yes he did grow up privileged but let’s be real Mellie is the one with entitlement issues not Fitz! And Fitz started to work on those issues after him and Liv broke up in 5b so 🖕🏽😎miss me with the Fitz slander. It shall not prosper. So Marcus and Liv laugh and then he goes on to say “He misses you.” (Ok, Marcus look at you being a team player✊🏽) Olivia’s smile faltered and she fans him to come in.(sis was a lil shook wasn’t it👀) Marcus closes the door. Olivia: So this new found passion for finding missing black girls, is what ..a excuse to see me? Marcus: if it means we are able to bring even one of these girls home then, who cares? ☕️🍿 Olivia was not expecting that answer , sis was like oh shit he really did come for me.

Old stomping grounds: Next scene we see Olivia back at OPA… sorry QPA Headquarters 🤧🤧. Yal it was so good to see Olivia back in that office looking on her big windows where they hang the pictures. She looked so sad and distraught looking at all those missing black girls. And honestly it was just a reminder that, that is a real issue happening everyday. So Quinn, Charlie, Huck, Abby, and Marcus are walking in and Quinn stops everybody cuz she was shocked lol. Huck: What’s is she doing here? Man even Huck was shocked 😩 Marcus: I invited her. Quinn: What, when? Olivia: Yesterday, I can hear you. (🤣🤣 they were literally in the hall right in front of the door talking.) So everybody rushes in and she ask how’s the case going and she helps them by telling them they need a story teller, the girls mom. And Olivia says she will make sure they get all the press they need. This was a bittersweet moment 🤧 it really made me miss OPA.

🤗Liv!: Olivia is walking out of the door headed to the elevator when Fitz and the mother of the Zoey, our missing black girl comes out. As soon as Fitz saw her!

Fitz: Liv! (It was so casual, I melted 🤗 my babies)

Olivia: smiles and they meet each other in the middle of the hallway.

Fitz: I didn’t expect to see you her.

Liv: shrugs(like it’s no big deal) I had a few minutes, thought I’d pitch in.

Fitz: looks at her adoringly

Liv: smiles, with a little laugh “what”

Fitz: shrugs a lil (like she did) , he looks around “you, in this office, feels like old times.”

Liv: hmmm

Fitz: steps closer to her “we should get a drink, before I head back”

Olivia: 😯swoons

Fitz: laughs “or we can keep meeting outside of elevators”

Me: 🤣🤣🤣🤣 this mane so petty! I love it! The causal ness of this scene really had me fangirling ☺️☺️☺️☺️🤗 my babies! And Fitz is smooth AF‼️

Liv: laughs , with some flirty eye 😏 so they just kinda stand there lookin at each other and then Liv says she should go and he’s like sure and so we see Liv get on the elevator and Fitz is just smiling watching as she leaves. Gaaaawdd 🤧 I love this ship 🚢 S.S.Olitz‼️

So I’m gonna skip over to the wanna be drag that Curtis attempted to do! Fitz and the mother of Zoey are doing an interview and towards the end Curtis tried to come for Fitz saying “if it’s a national crisis now, it was a national crisis when you were still president” and he tried to say why hasn’t Fitz and his justice department been tryna do something for these missing girls. Fitz: I wasn’t aware.

Curtis: your claiming ignorance

Fitz: I am, as I’m sure many of your viewers would have before I talked tonight because girls like Zoey aren’t just being ignored by the Justice system they are being ignored by the press.

Curtis: So the media is to blame

Fitz: No Curtis the media is to blame for them STAYING missing , and for the fact that zoeys picture is on tv tonight is because a rich white guy is sitting next to her mother.

Me: 🗣 Curtis pick ya lip up son! Listen coming for Fitzgerald ain’t the way to go. You really don’t want these problems. Honestly, Truly.

👀☕️ and guess who was at home watching when Fitz said “who says I’m going back” “I’m strongly considering moving back permanently, Vermont can wait.”

Me: 😌well , well, well, well, well. Looky what we have here. Curtis really just made a 🤡 out of himself and he made Fitz say that on national television where everybody including a certain Olivia Pope was watching. 💅🏽 yal see the way she her head turned when she heard him say that? ☕️☕️☕️☕️

🤷🏽‍♀️💆🏽🙎🏽🤦🏽‍♀️: Olivia went to Rowan. She really said “I popped by to see if you’re behaving yourself”🤣🤣🤣 yal know I was dying laughing! Listen he deserves it. BUT Olivia ass starts going on about how she remembers him coming home and how he use to tell her and her mom stories about his day at work(the museum.) Rowan said yes , it’s called lying and Olivia said yea, you figured it out. She goes on to say “there were times you could have came clean but you didn’t so you must have thought it was worth it.”

Rowan: ahh, you’re asking if it’s possible to be command and share your life with someone.

Liv: I’m not asking anything.

Rowan: No! The path that you are on is a lonely one.

Liv: shakes head, “it doesn’t have to be.”

Rowan: sharing your life with Fitzgerald

Liv: 😲who said anything about Fitz (yal know how ya mom will bring up a ex lmao she had that face like who was even talking about him)

Rowan: yelling, “I saw him on television last night (Liv loses her smile.) talking about staying, I know you Olivia. You want to share ya life with him and you want me to say it’s possible, well it is not. Not if you insist on being command. (Liv got that Kevin Hart face on)

Liv: your b613 is not my b613 I’ve been saying that from the beginning, just because you were miserable

Rowan: bangs his hands on table and Liv jumps and folds her hands in front of her. “Damnit, Olivia. Look at you! You’re asking ME for boy advice.” She walks away he continues “your own father, that’s how alone you are, the people’s whose advice you normally seek, you can’t go to them anymore. They can’t know the secret….. …and despite your contempt for me, I’m all you have , dear. old. dad.” 😔 Yal seen her face when she was walking away? He was absolutely right. She is lonely and isolated. She’s keeping herself away from the people she needs most. She was so distraught in this scene. And you know it’s something when I’m agreeing with Rowan 💆🏽 as she was walking out the door “you don’t have to like me Olivia but , you’re a fool if you don’t learn from me.” And he is absolutely right. She does not deserve to be tied down or to b613 fuck no! Our girl deserves so much better than that.

Summit: Mellie was tryna make amends and she almost got that treaty signed just as they were about to agree. President Rashaad people bursts in the room and grab him. Come to find out somebody staged a coop while he was away. 😩👀 owwweee chil’

Command or someone’s girl? You can’t be both: Joke has had enough 😂😂 he slick tried to go off on Olivia. I told you we needed more agents, but instead of working you got me following your ex boyfriend around like ima babysitter (not his actual words but close enough🤣🤣🤣 he hates his job)

Melody:“Olivia, where is your humanity?” Bitchhhhhh I hit the flo‼️😩 did Mellie really just call Olivia ass out like that? 🤓 why yes. Yes she did. Liv goes on to “He’s no longer a leader , He just because irrelevant to the United States.

Mellie: the rebels will kill him

Liv: our hands are tied

Mellie: well we need to untie them

Liv: by going to WAR, I can’t let you do that.

Mellie: proceeds to go in on Olivia’s ass! “We brought him to the table, he was ready to sign and make peace with his enemy. You and I had finally found a solution to a 50 year old problem because of him! If that’s not enough to go to war for you tell me what is.” And in that stare off between them it was like something clicked. She remembers Fitz went to war for her, and he did it based on feelings alone. But you know Liv she still needed to weigh her options.

[tempestshakes01]

3/24/19

Here’s another entry in this embarrassing public online diary (I love it.):

Health: 4/10 

The weird cough is still lingering, but now it’s gotten a bit worse in the daytime. I’m still hacking up mucus until I vomit (or moan and cry to NOT vomit because I just ate and I’d rather NOT throw up a bacon burger, thanks) and it’s fuckin miserable. I’m worried that if this lasts, I’ll have to fly like this and my flight is an overnighter--prime cough/nausea/vomit hours. UGH. 

Other than the cough and my persistent jaw acne, I’m the perfect picture of health. I feel great. 

Well, no. My ass has a massive bruise because yesterday I slipped down Leah’s stairs (wood laminate is slippery as hell in socks!) running to the bathroom to...ugh...puke up a glob of mucus and bits of burger. 

But other than that! 

Work: 7/10

I still feel like I did something wrong and no one is telling me. I’m friendlier and peppier now that the winter blues (read: depression) are slipping away with the sunny skies and warmer weather (all that snow--16 inches on the ground at the start of the month--melting), but I think the damage is done. 

Except, other than not being super chatty, I’m not sure what the damage is. The only admin that’s normal is the principal. We’re getting along great! A few colleagues are still the same including Mr. Married Lumberjack whom I had a crush on.  

I’m probably paranoid though. I’m also bored out of my mind. Things are smooth for 85% of the time and that’s...great, but also...it’s too smooth and I feel judged doing more because Veronica is gone. 

Okay, so that most likely makes no sense, but it’s how I feel. 

Home: 9.5/10

Things are superb with my parents. I’m headed to D.C. with my mom next week (along with every 8th grader in America...I’m so stupid...) and we’re going to try to keep it as civil as possible when it comes to politics. My dad is texting, but not smothering me with attention. In fact, I should call him more.

My sister seems to be doing...the same. Lots of astrology posts on the gram, but no mention of Paris (her potentially mentally-ill ex) so that’s a relief. The kids are doing great as well. Nick and I are texting more often. He even asked my advice about our parents which was new. I want to ask him about Alyssa because I’m still utterly curious about that situation, but I know he’s still hurting over it and the fact that he had a “quarter-life” crisis when he was working 50+ hours, going to school full time, and interning at the church. He’s decided to graduate as quickly as possible, quit the preacher path, and stay in the coffee game. 

Apparently, he got a promotion and a raise, so he’s making really great money. Plus, he’s like...super passionate about coffee. More passionate than he ever seemed about Jesus or school. 

We’re currently fighting about NCAA brackets and our current favorite music, and it’s great. 

Friends: 6/10

Reconnecting with Jack and Nicol is super nice. I just don’t know how to proceed and how quickly and if I’m an annoyance. I also want Nicol without Jack as well, but I don’t want to offend either of them (not that I think it would! but the chance makes me hesitate...) and they’re such a partnership that I wonder if it IS a big request to separate them. 

We went to see Us today and I didn’t like it very much. We’re going to see Back to the Future on Tuesday at the old theater. They invited me to the former; I invited them to the latter. I trust this will all work out.

Gosh, and I don’t trust Leah at ALL which is wild because I probably hang out with her the most out of anyone, but yeah. There’s something about that girl that I don’t trust. 

Went on Facebook and saw a photo of my childhood best friends (we were a trio: Valerie, Kristina, and I). They were on a backpacking trip together in Alaska. They live entirely different lives, but they still maintained a great friendship over the years. God, and they went into chemical engineering so they’re both making BANK, but they’re the most down-to-earth women. 

I don’t know...I guess it makes me think...for the billionth time...how different my life would be if we’d never moved from El Paso. 

El Paso was idyllic. My childhood consisted of bike rides out into the desert, street games with a plethora of neighborhood boys, summer secrets and stars, theme parks and athletics, best friends who were boys that I knew I could fall in love with, best friends who were girls and I knew I could trust with my whole heart. I lived a good life there. 

When I left, things started to peel apart, but it sort of seemed--for the most part--most of the El Paso crew grew up in the same way they had been...in that easy, perfect sunset sort of way. Most everyone I grew up with went Homecoming and Prom and did senior sunrise and went to good schools where they did the greek life and then got jobs in the sciences or medicine or moved out to Hollywood. They’re utterly normal and successful now in a very...the way they tell you things will go in life. 

Anyway, that childhood best friend I thought I could fall in love with? Went through a long-haired rave phase circa 2012/13, but is currently dating a white girl who wears cowboy boots, no makeup, and studies sports medicine in the same grad program as him. It’s the way things were supposed to be and it’s just weird to see their lives (through the filter and lens of social media) go so simply. Also, his hairline is going and he looks bloated, so the white-half is coming for him in the aging process, ha. His Mexican mom still looks BOMB, so poor guy for inheriting his dad’s hair follicles. 

And anyway, that childhood best friend I could trust with my whole heart? Dating a republican future politician named John Smith and traveling South American for the next couple weeks working in various hospital and women’s health care. She’s a nurse and probably a damn good one. She got her boobs done a couple years ago and I sometimes wonder if we’d still get along. 

Media: 5/10

This is a bullshit category just to give a VM hot-takes, but I’ll play into my own bullshit. 

I’m not watching any TV except B99. I watch about 3 movies a week and I try to make 1 a classic or a “difficult” title. I watch mostly youtube, to be honest. I like Hot Ones, Bon Appetit, Jenna Marbles, theTryGuys, Tasty, Brave Wilderness, Millenium Dance Complex ‘n’ adjacent choreographers’ channels, and various media video essays. 

I’m reading a lot of books...but they’re all YA. Which isn’t bad! I’m just laughing that it took me reading Airborn by Kenneth Oppel (my favorite adventure YA book) out loud to the students to remind my dumb reading brain how fun books could be. Apparently, I’m a fantastic reader and I do wonderful voice and I make the story seem like a movie. We’re on the sequel and I’m about to start the His Dark Materials series.  

That Worlds podium? TRASH. Justice for S/B. 

Yeah, so I’m on a VM cleanse, right? Cause with the winter and all the crazy, it was just an unhealthy piece of media in my life. I miss the GC though, but that’s about it, lol. Oh, and with the new content (I tried to resist!) it’s clear that I did miss them doing their thing and I need to unload some of the thoughts whirling in my head. 

Ugh, I have thoughts about the whole timeline of events because I see people questioning or backtracking, and I’m like? We seriously went through an awful series of events that made all the previous weirdness make sense (but left lingering brand-new weirdness). Except that’ll just bring back old feelings that I’m trying to move on from. 

Geez, I can’t believe I’m about to talk about them in a gossip-y way again, but uh, I’m glad that they seem to be repairing their friendship and that Scott legit looked happy. The vibes are definitely friendship so far, or like, 2015-vibes. Which who knows where that will lead in the future? Will they do things messy like last Fall/Winter? Do they think they can try again or are they now afraid of fucking this up so badly they can’t come back from it? Are they going to accept each other as only friends and maintain those boundaries? You love me, real or not real? WHO KNOWS. I hate this ride.

Also, I’m aware of some of the gossip because I’m fool who caves from time to time for a few minutes and I remember (god, again, I hate that I’m still invested even with this time off) that J was selling her Coachella tickets, and now it’s been announced that VM are doing that show in Korea which takes place the same days as a Coachella weekend. So. Yeah. I’m putting my money on J being in Korea because why sell the tickets (just take a friend), but I’m also still wondering if this is all going to end up like Klawes-era. 

Literally, I wake up believing 100% that J’s gonna be the one Scott’s going to marry because it’s just that time. Then, I go to sleep 98% believing that no matter what, somehow, someway, Tessa and Scott are going to end up together. 

inTERSTIngLY, I have neglected to message Tinder matches the past couple weeks and I believe 50% of the time that I’m going to end up alone because I’m not even trying. (Cut me some slack though. I haven’t had an acne flare-up this bad in years and it’s wrecking my confidence.) 

Music: 10/10

I take hour drives out of town and find obscure trails and I hike for an hour...and let me tell you my Spotify is killing it. 

Current favorite songs:

How Do You Know - CALIPH (you know what I’m thinking) 

Stone Street - MS. WHITE (fun)

anything from Oliver Tree (his music speaks to me as does his fucking stupid meme humor)

Wow. - POST MALONE (sue me)

anything from Duckrth (so much fun) 

Charms - ABEL KORZENIOWSKI (don’t imagine VM dancing to this)

The Cheek of Night - ABEL KORZENIOWSKI

Sucks - ANGELO MOTA (dark and atmospheric hip hop that makes me wish I could dance cause it’s calling to me to choreograph something to it)

bury a friend - BILLIE EILISH (lol I can’t dance, but I’m learning Kodish choreo for this as a workout) 

Beverly Blues - OPIA (a summer jam)

[brendlesachiel]

Stand up shit

I like the word “egotistical.” It sounds like a Kiwi saying “ego testicle.” “I’m very egotistical.”

Education language: diversity equity inclusion pedagogy learners with additional learning needs, developing programs, initiatives and strategies to implement educational policies in appropriate educational settings; individualised differentiated instruction diversity equity inclusive learning environment engage learners in the process educational outcomes cultural competence social justice, embrace diversity 

**

The annoying thing about life is that it ends before you have any time to come even close to understanding it.

**

**

“Snowy Mountains” and “Rocky Mountains” are really uncreative names. “It;s mountain and it’s kinda rocky. Rocky Mountains? It’s a mountain and it’s kind of snowy. Snowy Mountains? Imagine if every name was as uncreative as that. The Amazon’s just called “The Leafy Forest.” It’s like calling the Amazon “Leafy Forest.”

**

**

“I hope it goes well!” Hope is worthless. You know how I know it’s worthless? It’s because no one would be able to sell hope as a product and make money off it. Like, in a store. Like, a sales person can’t be like, “Hey, you want some hope? “ “Sure.” “That’ll be 20 dollars.” “Oh fuck that shit. I’m not spending money on feeling hopeful.”

**

Imagine if Yoda made An Inconvenient Truth instead of Al Gore? “The use of cars leads to greenhouse gas emissions. Greenhouse gas emissions lead to the accumulation of greenhouse gases in the atmosphere. The accumulation of greenhouse gases in the atmosphere leads to the reflection and absorption of incoming solar radiation. The reflection and absorption of incoming solar radiation leads to the planet radiating some of that energy back out into the atmosphere in the form of infrared radiation. The planet radiating some of that energy back out into the atmosphere in the form of infrared radiation leads to the trapping of some of that radiation in the atmosphere by those same gases. And the trapping of some of that infrared radiation in the atmosphere by those same gases leads to global warming. Disastrous, that could be. Fix it, we must.”

**

How awesome is the feeling when you successfully change the subject away from an embarrassing topic? In your head you’re like “Fucking yes, I changed the direction of the conversation and he didn’t notice, I got away with it.”

**

Imagine if there was a girl called Marie Marie Marie Marie Marie Marie Marie Marie Marie Marie Marie Marie…and it just goes on for like 500 Marie’s. Her teacher marks the role like, “John Smith.” “Here.” “Elizabeth Knight.” “Here.” “Marie Marie Marie Marie Marie Marie Marie Marie Marie Marie…fuck it, Marie to the power of 500. Are you here?” “Here.”

**

**

fear leads to anger. anger leads to hate. hate leads to suffering.

you could’ve just said fear leads to suffering. Just go from A to B, mate. You went through two more doors than you needed to go through. Only take a longer route if it’s a better journey, and that wasn’t.

**

Reincarnation. They believe that EVERYONE is going to come back as an animal when they die. EVERYONE. Including people who killed themselves. “Fuck, I justvoluntarily  left that place and now I gotta fucking go back as a dog? Are you fucking kidding me?” He goes. His owner gives him a shitty like Rover. “Russel!” “Yeah, fuck off.” “Oh Russel’s a bit down today!” “I’m down everyday, bitch, cuz I have the soul of a sad clinically depressed guy in a call center who worked in a call center. But you don’t know that cuz you don’t fuckin’ understand me, so whatever. Woof, yeah, yeah, whatever. Fuck, I gotta be loyal to this ugly lady until she puts me down. Can you throw a stick on a main road so I have a fucking excuse.”

“Rover! Why are you on the main road? Bad boy!” Cuz I’m trying to not be owned by you, you old ugly fuckin’ cow! You do realize I’m a depressed guy in a dog’s body? 

DOes that mean that every dog who looks sad used to be a fat single dude who worked in a call centre? i bet they try to kill themselves again as dogs.

**

I saw an episode of Dragon Ball Z once, and the whole episode was just Goku powering up while Frieza watched him. He was going “Arghghghghghhgghgh.” I was like, “This is not a TV show. This is two dudes sounding really constipated for twenty minutes with a few ad breaks in between.” Five episodes of powering up. I guess that’s just a law of nature in the Dragon Ball Z universe, that in order to be able to cause harm to your enemies, you have to sound like you’re shitting a brick out of your asshole. Imagine if someone in the Dragon Ball Z universe was born with a genetic defect where he was in powering up mode all the time, like even when ordering a coffee. “Arhghghhghg can I please have a cappacino?”

**

Every nerdy teenage boy in Australia was watching Dragon Ball Z on Cheese TV. Back when Goku was fighting Frieza and they were both doing nothing but powering up for 10 episodes. So for 10 straight weeks in Australia, every nerdy teenage boy was watching two dudes sound constipated for half an hour each week.

**

They believe that EVERYONE is going to come back as an animal when they die. EVERYONE. Including people who killed themselves. Does that mean that all the dogs that look sad used to be depressed people? Dogs are like “yeah hi. Yeah, woof, whatever. Yeah, I used to be a virgin who worked in a call center and now I’m a fuckin’ low-energy dog.”

**

In order to make an order at the McDonald’s drive thru, Yoda from Star Wars would probably need a translator.

Intercom: HI, how can i help you today?

Yoda: Three things, I would like to buy.

Translator: I would like to buy three things.

Yoda: .Coke, first I would like.

Translator: First I would like coke.

Yoda: Nuggets, then I want.

Translator: Then I want nuggets. He just reverses it.

Yoda: And French fries, I guess I’ll get it.

Translator: I would like to purchase nuggets, fries and coke, he just reverses it, same thing each time

Intercom: Okay, Master Yoda. Any sauce with that?

Yoda: Please, sweet and sour. Yoda: Pot, I like to smoke. Translator: Again, I like to smoke pot, he just reverses it. Does the same thing each time.

**

I like my humor off the wall and on the nose.

**

Isaac, it’s great that you’re daydreaming mate, you’re using your imagination which is fantastic, I love it, but I also love getting through the curriculum, mate, so let’s, come on.

**

I’m apologetic to people I like, but I’m really unapologetic to people I don’t like. To people I like, I’m like, “Sorry, man.” To people I don’t like, I’m like, “Fuck you, I’m not apologizing for shit, motherfucker. Even if I did something wrong, I’m not apologizing, that would be humiliating.”

**

2 + 3 is 5 and 3 + 9 is 12. But here’s the thing: 32 + 34 is 66. So, by that token, 25 + 4 is 29. But, on the other hand, 38 + 45 is 83. The argument comes full circle when you realize that 37 + 12 is 49 and perhaps the most frightening and profound truth of all time: 1 + 1 is 2. I just had to get that off my chest. Been bottling it up for so long.

**

have you ever heard someone use a really cool phrase and been like, “yep i’m gonna steal that one, thank you. I’ll pretend i’ve been saying that one for years, cheers.

**

Life is full of people telling you what you have to do.

Your boss is like “you have to get five sales today” the government’s like, “you have to pay that fine by October 31 and your tax by October 31,” your parents are like, “Mate, you’re 28, you have to move out,” you know, life is full of people telling you what you have to do, and it can be a bit of a downer sometim

So I’m gonna tell you all the things that you don’t have to do, for a change.

**

This one time my friend was reading a Wikipedia article, and he turned to me and said, “You know, Wikipedia gets a lot of shit but it’s actually quite a reliable source.” So I opened the article he was reading on my phone, changed the heading to, “No it’s not, fuckhead,” and told him to refresh.

**

I think doing stand up comedy at an open mic night is like making a meal at a restaurant when you’ve had no experience as a chef and your customers have no idea what they’re gonna eat. You could end up being the next Gordon Ramsay, but chances are you’re gonna make a really shit meal that the customers have to eat.”

**

I once heard someone refer to a murderer as a “homicidal practitioner.” I thought, “That’s a pretty funny euphemism.” So Ted Bundy was a homicidal practitioner. Kurt Cobain was a suicidal practitioner. Hitler was both. He was a fully qualified and licensed practitioner of homicide, suicide and genocide. He did all three of those things in six years.

**

I hate when people are having a debate, and they state the year that it is as. “Come on, it’s 2018.” People have been saying this every year. “Come on, it’s 1993.” “It’s 1998, I thought we were past this archaic nonsense.” They’ve been saying it every year. Even the people in the year 43, 512 AD will be stating the year as a form of argument. “It’s 43, 512 AD, I thought we were past this archaic nonsense.”

**

the bible is so TL;DR. 30, 000 verses and 1,000 chapters? Who can be bothered R-ing such an L-ass book that’s the TL;DR-iest book length. the lord of the rings is so TL;DW.. To those of you who don’t know, “TL;DR” is an abbreviation online and it stands for “too long; didn’t read.” The brilliance of that phrase is that it’s a really short response to something really long, so it hurts their feelings. We should come up with a nicer abbreviation. Like NL;DR….WR…“not long; did read.” Or a more indecisive version. “KL;MR.” “Kinda long; might read.”

**

**

I once said to my friend Marcus, right, “Hey Marcus, did you know that the planet Jupiter can think?” And Marcus is like , “Oh, really?” And I’m like, “Yep. And right now it’s thinking “Holy shit, Marcus is gullible and dumb as shit.”

**

have you ever been online and you type a search query into the browser and the results pop up and it’s fucking Bing? I don’t know who runs Bing but dude, no one likes your search engine. Give up. You thought it was Google, you were waiting for the red, yellow, green and blue logo, and you get a shit grey one. Bing is so annoying. What if search engines dissed each other? Like, you enter “Bing” into Google and a webpage pops up, “Bing is a shit search engine.”

**

this one time I farted in front of a girl i Iiked who barely knew me. If I had to sum up her facial expression, it would be, “intensely offended.” Her facial expression was saying, “I don’t know anything about you but that stinks like shit and i’m pissed off i have to smell it.” but my facial expression was matching her intensity. My face was saying, “What, you saying you don’t fart, motherfucker? Fuck outta here with that disapproving gaze, I did what every human does and I’m supposed to be ashamed?”

**

some people wanna get rid of nukes. and that makes me think, “well, if you wanna get rid of nukes so that they never appear on earth again, then you’d have to stop anyone capable of making a nuclear weapon from 

 get rid of people that know how to make nukes. which means you have to destroy knowledge. so fu

**

have you ever said a word that you didn’t want to say? you’re like, “fuck, why did i say that word? that was the wrong word to fucking use. Fuck.” This one time someone said “seeya later” and i said “thanks”

**

How annoying are bosses? You’re sitting there, having fun, and then he comes up to you like, “Hey, you better do that thing!” and you’re like, “I don’t want to but you’re paying me, so fine.” And then your boss’s boss comes up to your boss like, “Hey, you better do that thing!” and he’s like, “I don’t want to but you’re paying me, so fine.” And then your boss’s boss’s boss comes up to your boss’s boss like, “Hey, you better do that thing!” and he’s like, “Sure, I’d love to! Thanks for paying me, by the way.” Your boss’s boss is just a really positive dude. Everyone has a boss. Even if you don’t have a job, your boss is the people who run the country. And even if you run the country, your boss is the people who don’t. Ain’t that weird? The people who don’t run the country come up to the people who do like, “Hey, you better run the country well,” and Turnbull’s like, “I don’t want to but you’re paying me, so fine.” Even people who try really hard to not have a boss have a boss. Like the guy that runs North Korea. China comes up to him like, “Hey, you better do that thing,” and he’s like, “I don’t want to but you give me food and energy, so fine. So annoying.” 

**

have u ever seen an asian person who looks 18 and then they’re like “hi i’m 65.”

**

hi i’m james. i hope you all die. not now or any time soon, just when you’re really old and asleep. i hope you die then. you all thought i was being mean but i was actually being nice. i hope i die now though.

**

Fuck, I’m retarded. I’m probably the most retarded person on the planet. My whole life is just me trying to resist my own natural gravitation towards antisocial, dysfunctional behavior. Stephen Hawking has nothing on me. I’m retarded socially, since I don’t know how to talk to people. Retarded intellectually, since I smoke a lot of pot. Financially, since I spend money on stupid bullshit. Physiologically, since I sweat too much and blush all the time. And sexually, since I cum early and sometimes struggle getting it up. My use of the word “retarded” itself is further evidence that I’m retarded since I’m willingly using a word that many people find offensive, possibly because they’re retarded as well. I’m not saying they’re stupid for being offended by it, I’m saying they may actually be mentally slow people that are hurt by that word going into their slow brain. I have no problem with retarded people. The only difference between me and them is I have a faster brain. I go, “2 + 2 is equal to 4,” they go, “2 + 2 is equal to…hang on a sec…let’s see if I can break this down…you got 2, which is a number, and what’s a number? A number is a symbol that represents an abstract quantity, so you’re adding two of the same quantity, so you get 4.” The retarded person is still logical, but by the time they execute their logic the topic of conversation has already changed from maths to North Korea and we’re going, “What are you you doing, Bobby? We’re talking about Kim Jung Un now.”

**

I went to uni, where I did a Bachelor of Science. And the whole time I was there I was high. For four years I was just engulfed in a haze of marijuana and I came out four years later like, “Fuck, I guess I’m a scientist.”

**

I love love. The best way to know how in love I am with someone is by how much I’m ignoring everything and everyone that isn’t them.

**

I can relate to Voldemort because he’s pale, egotistical, terrified of death and he spends a lot of time alone with his snake. I’ve always found it weird that Voldemort doesn’t like people using his name. That’s like someone at a party going, “Hi, I’m John, but please don’t call me that, thank you. If you don’t know what to call me, that’s your problem, cunt. How ‘bout you fuckin’ improvise?” Imagine if Voldemort was so constipated one day that it made Harry’s scar hurt? Harry would be like, “Fuck, this is so annoying! I hate hearing the thoughts of a psychopath squeezing shit out of his asshole!” What if Voldemort’s asshole was a slit like his nostrils? What if he made Death Eaters wipe his ass for him? “My lord, it is an honour to wipe the shit off your powerful, majestic asshole.“p>

**

Teaching: Marking / Teachers have to do more homework / I don’t wanna be here either, I just need money to survive.

**

This is the evolution of humanity from start to finish: *grunts* *throws a spear* *fucks* *writes with a pen* *picks telephone up* Tell you what, that Alexander Bell bloke’s pretty smart, isn’t he? *types on a typewriter* *shoots a military gun* *twiddles thumbs on phone, does it for ages* *looks up* that cloud looks like a mushroom, I might tweet about it *twiddles thumbs* “I am about to die, hashtag #goodwhileitlasted”

I’m a teacher. And there are things that I really wanna say to my students that I’m not allowed to say. For example, I really wanna say to them, “Hey kids, I’m not gonna teach you anything on the curriculum today because I think it’s all worthless and I think you should teach yourself stuff in your own time. There’s no point in me cramming knowledge into your head that you don’t care about. There’s no point in me uploading thousands of gigs onto your computer if it’s jut gonna sit there in your hard drive, doing nothing. If you don’t want to learn, don’t do it. Just do the things you wanna do instead. But if you have a smart brain in your head, then I predict that you’re gonna eventually get bored of existing and functioning in a world that you know nothing about. You’re gonna get bored of not knowing the rules of the game you’ve been playing your entire life. You’re gonna get bored of going for runs around the oval and not knowing why the grass you’re running on is green, or why there’s wind in your face. You’ll get bored of not knowing what the chair that you’re sitting on right now is made of. You’re gonna get bored of not knowing what you’re made of. You’re gonna get bored of not knowing why your pee is yellow and why your farts smell really bad. You’ll get bored of masturbating and not knowing why the hand around your penis has five fingers instead of six. Or why you have two eyes but only one nose. Suddenly, you’re gonna want to know these things and you’ll start Googling shit. And I swear to god that when you read all this shit on Wikipedia, you’re gonna absorb it and remember it until you die because it’s information that you actually give a shit about. You know why you couldn’t remember that maths formula in your exam the other day, even after I showed it to you forty fucking times? It’s because you don’t care about it. But maybe you might care what the area of a circle is one day. Anyway, class dismissed. You have no homework for the rest of your life.” I really wanna say all that shit. But you know what I say instead? “Hi kids, today we’re gonna do Questions 4a, 5b and 6c from Chapter 3E of the textbook. We’re gonna be finishing algebra today and starting probability tomorrow because we live under capitalism and learning has a time limit. I’d explain what capitalism is but we covered that last week.”

**

I once took my sister to the hospital for an emergency and she was lying in the trolley with all the other patients and the nurses were cracking jokes with each other and I remember looking at the nurse thinking, “I don’t think the ice addict overdosing under your nose right now appreciates the playful banter you’re having.” **

Can I have a skinny capaccino and some scrambled eggs on toast? This one isn’t on the menu but can I have some money and affection as well? Life is hard.”

**

You know when someone gives you something for free and there’s about five seconds where you have to pretend like you object to their decision? “I can’t accept this! I fucking so want it, but for some bullshit reason I gotta pretend I don’t until you give me the social green light, and then I can shrug and sheepishly pocket it while thinking ‘Fucking yes, cheers you dumb bitch!’”

**

I believe that none of us have any idea what we’re doing and we’re all winging this shit. My whole life is just me trying to resist my own natural tendency towards antisocial, dysfunctional behavior. The whole time I’m in public, I’m trying to avoid doing two things: jacking off and dying.

**

I’m 27 and I still live with my parents. And you can tell my dad is starting to get sick of me. Yeah, he loves me, but it’s a love that decreases exponentially.  It’s like I’m a dinner that he heated in the oven and after 18 years he’d finally finished cooking me and he was getting ready to take me out, feed me to people, put me in the dishwasher and skip out of the kitchen back to his bedroom so he could fuck his wife for the rest of his life, only to find out that the dinner had other plans. It wanted to stay in the oven for nine more years. So my dad’s been stuck in the kitchen for a quarter of his adult life, trying to convince his own spoiled, entitled roast dinner to get the fuck out of the oven. “Get out, bitch! You’ve been ready for consumption for an entire decade!” “But I don’t wanna leave! It’s too scary! I’m gonna be eaten alive!” “Of course you will, you’re a fucking meal, now get out!” “But I’m special! I’ve got like, really interesting potatoes and stuff! My chicken wings are important!”

**

I hate when people describe other people as “complex.” "Dude, have you met Brandon? He is so complex! He’s like, a puzzle, wrapped up in a paradox, cloaked in an enigma, draped in a conundrum, and shrouded in a mist of incomprehensible, inexplicable mystique!” No, he’s not. Brandon goes to work and comes home. That’s it. And if he doesn’t, he probably should. Instead of sitting around on his unemployed ass all day, thinking of all the different contradictions that his spooky personality can embody all at once to impress his credulous, idiotic friends, he should, I don’t know, write a fucking resume. And under “Skills,” he should put something other than “being complicated” because no one gives a shit. Bosses aren’t gonna go, “Wait a second, Brandon, you’re saying you’ve spent the majority of your life building yourself up into a pointlessly elaborate riddle that no one gains anything by solving? Why, I’d like to make you an engineer! Construction on the bridge starts Monday!”

**

I like reading mistakes in books because that means the editor either didn’t do a good job or didn’t have enough time to do a good job. So they either suck at their job (which means their boss sucks at hiring people)  or managing their time; either way, they suck, and that’s funny. I like when people suck at things. I like watching people trip over. “Haha. He sucks at balancing himself. Fuckwit.”

**

“How’d u find the meal?” “This is the worst most fucking garbage meal I’ve ever had”

**

Turning right at an intersection. It’s not my fault that the world is overpopulated.

**

Theoretically I can ruin any friendship or relationship I have by grabbing someone’s balls. If I do that enough times, eventually they’re gonna go “this is over” **

Remember Caitlyn Jenner? She’s really fucking ugly.

**

**

Had to have dinner with my grandpa the other day. He’s 93 and on the brink of death and it was probably the fifth last time I’ll see him. I reckon I have eight hours left of looking at his decrepit, wrinkly face and his pretzel-shaped spine before he dies a shitty, ignominious death. I won’t care much when he dies and that makes me sad. I love him because he was a nice man and will always remember him, but I won’t care that much when he dies, which probably means our relationship never really got off the ground.

**

Imagine sounding really nice when you’re saying really mean things. Imagine sounding really mean when you’re saying really nice things.

**

I have no creativity. Isaac Newton apple story.

**

The United States constitution is like the rulebook to a board game that was written carefully by very smart people to ensure that the game can be played for as long as possible without any hiccups, right up until that inevitable moment where the players throw a tantrum, burn the rulebook and knock over all the pieces. So far the game’s lasted 230 years but I think that tantrum might be coming.

**

Have you ever noticed how all decency and compassion goes out the window when someone disagrees with someone else, politically? Even if Donald Trump tweeted, “My son Barron just got leukemia, I am devastated,” I can guarantee his Twitter feed will be flooded with thousands of angry, vicious replies, just like it is with every other Tweet he makes. “Good, fuck him…you ruined our country, so he deserves it.” None of us have the answers to any of the questions raised by politics and morality since they’re too complex for our limited monkeys brains to understand, yet these are the two things, more than anything in the world, that inspire deep hatred for one another.

**

I hate jokes and banter. “You should mark my reports.”

**

ISIS is always responsible for each attack.

**

- Take out the trash on Tuesday

- Write up a CV before Friday

- Stop writing “to do” lists down and trust your memory more, idiot.

**

“Great minds think alike.” So do shit ones. How do you know you’re not just two idiots reaching the same wrong conclusion?

**

My whole life is just me trying to resist my own natural gravitation towards antisocial, dysfunctional behavior. 

**

I wish I had more than two hands. It would be very handy. You know how many more things I could do with five hands? I could write an email, turn the TV on, pat my dog, brush my teeth and jack myself off at the same time. I’m so jealous of octopuses. You can do so many things with hands you can slap me for this routine.

**

You know when you use an App and the App asks if they can access your photos? I have an internal dialogue between myself and the App that plays out every time I do that.

App: Hey dude. Thanks for getting the app, appreciate it, man. So as part of the app you can send photos and shit but before you do that, we just need to be granted access to look at your photos and your Facebook and stuff.”

Me: What?

App: Just need access so we can do the photo stuff.

Me: OK. Fine. You’re not gonna do any nasty shit though, are you?

App: Like what?

Me: Like find out who I am and expose me to advertisements that are really specific to my needs and wants to further capitalize off me?

App: No, no fuckin’ - no, no way we’re gonna do that. It’s for - when you use photos for the app, we have to see your photos for that to happen.

Me: Why do you need to be granted access to all my photos? Why can’t you just be granted access to the photos that I use on the app?

App: No, no, no. Dude, we need to see all of them for some reason. Dude, it’s not - and also, maybe  -  maybe we’re just interested to see you because you could be a cool guy. Who fucking - ?”

Me: Okay. Fine. But you’re not gonna sell my information to other companies so they can fuck me as well?

App: Dude, why the fuck - no, we’re totally - no, we’re not gonna do that.

Me: OK. Fine. Allow.

App: Yeah cheers you fuckin’ moron, we know who you are, we know your hopes and dreams, your taste in fashion and music and we’re gonna cook up 50 ads in a row to fuck you in the arse one by one and you willingly handed us the lubrication to do so.

**

Imagine if our penises swapped places with our noses? We’d look like elephants. We’d have to put cocaine down our pants. An aroused man would look like a lying Pinocchio and a lying Pinocchio would look like an aroused man. Rudolph would be the Red Knob Reindeer. Voldemort would have two ugly slits above his balls. We’d have to drill glory holes at head height and midgets could use the original holes! The Seven Dwarves could fuck Snow White standing! Sneezy would have to change his underwear all the time. Girls would have to stand on boxes or tippy toes to blow tall guys. Lorena Bobbit’s husband would have nothing between his eyes and mouth except for a bit of scar tissue, maybe. Goldmember’s face would look like the inside of the briefcase in Pulp Fiction. If a little boy farted in the Neverland ranch, Michael Jackson would have to reach downstairs to pinch his fake nose and reach upstairs to beat it. (Wanking off nose) We’d have to do this every time we want to imply that someone’s a wanker (/Wanking off nose) Black guys would smack people in the face whenever they turn around. We’d have to hump flowers to smell them, Mr Squiggle would have to hump paper to draw, swordfish would fuck their prey to death and woodpeckers would become woodfuckers.

**

Imagine if someone went through a metal detector and it beeped, so they turned to the security guard and said, “Oh, it must be beeping because i have a fully loaded pistol in my pocket that I was gonna shoot everyone with, but I’ve been foiled by technology and I’ll probably go to jail for this, which is rather unfortunate.”

**

Imagine if I went to McDonald’s and the woman behind the counter said, “How can I help you?” and I said, “Do you know how I can get a lot of money and a wife?” and she replied, “Dude, I work at McDonald’s, so I can’t help you with the money shit, but I can be your wife, sure. I’ve got a shit job and nothing going for me so why not? Look, we’ll discuss the wedding when my shift is over but until then, shut the fuck up and leave because both my boss and the fat cunt waiting in line behind you look really pissed off right now.”

**

Imagine if I went to a coffee shop, ordered a cappuccino, and the barista’s like, “Too easy,” and I said, “Do you want me to make it harder for you then, moron? Fine, give me 35 cappuccinos, each in a different type of mug, each made with different types of coffee beans from at least six different countries, each containing a different type of milk that was collected from at least six different types of cows from at least four different continents, and as you move from Cappuccino 1 to Cappuccino 35, I want the amount of chocolate on the top to exponentially increase with a growth rate of 3. Does that sound sufficiently difficult for you, you fucking idiot? I don’t give a shit how difficult you think your task is. You’ve received training, you fucking twit, of course it’s easy. I’m being extremely difficult and needlessly aggressive to you right now, and it’s starting to dawn on you that I might be mentally ill. I can see it in your eyes. Everything about your body language suggests that you want this shift to be over with as soon as possible. You want to fucking disappear right now.”

**

Imagine if Borat had depression? “I do not … I do not feel nice … when I see my brother Bilo in his cage … I no laugh. Nature make a toilet in my head.” Imagine if Frank Walker had depression? He just got so sick of doing the same ad every day that he blew his brains out all over his national tiles. “Goodbyeeeee!” Imagine if he talked like that all the time? He orders a coffee like, “Helloooooo, can I have a cappacinnooooooo?” Imagine if he talked normally? “Hello, it’s Frank Walker from National Tiles and thanks to my speech therapist, I no longer talk like an absolute fuckwit.”

**

Imagine if you rocked up to work and your boss was like, “Hey, everyone, you’re all free to go because who gives a fuck about any of this shit, really? No, I’m not high; I just need a day clear in my schedule to sit and think about how uninspired I am by this very boring, repetitive job, and how I’m going to escape. I need to figure out how to start my own business so I don’t have bosses breathing down my neck all day, applying lots of pressure - which some of you relieve, and I’m very grateful for that, thank you - but on the other hand, we do have a lot of dead weight here, let’s be honest. There is no shortage of completely useless, incompetent staff - some of whom are sitting in this room - who add all the pressure back on. I will probably have to fire at le ast two of you by next week - not probably, definitely - I will definitely be making life very difficult for at least two of you in less than seven days. Alright, goodbye.“

**

Imagine if the dictionary was written by a stoned philosophy major? “The definition of tree is whatever you want it to be, bro. It’s all a matter of perception, man.”

**

Imagine if someone got really offended by a compliment? “How dare you say that? How DARE you tell me I have a nice shirt? Who do you think you are? The fucking nerve!”

**

Imagine if you were watching the scene in Toy Story where Sid’s burning Woody and Woody suddenly yelled out, “Stop fucking burning me! I’m in a lot of pain! No, you’re not hallucinating, this is real; I’m a sentient toy that can move and talk but more importantly, I can feel pain, motherfucker. Toy biology is very complicated stuff and I don’t want to bore you with the details but that flame that you were holding up to my face like a fucking nutjob was stimulating certain pain receptors in my plastic skin, which sends a signal to the brain in my fucking cowboy head and it hurts, dumbass. I know this is hard to believe and it’s all very overwhelming - you’re a teenager going through puberty, for Christ’s sake, the world’s confusing enough as it is without your toy talking to you in Tom Hanks’s voice. But seriously, Sid, I think you should see a psychiatrist because you’re obviously quite mentally disturbed and your behaviour is typical of most serial killers.”

**

Imagine an episode of Bananas in Pajamas where B1 said to B2, “I’ve gotta be honest, I don’t know what you’re fucking thinking. I’ve been pretending to know this whole time because despite being a banana that can talk, I’m not fucking psychic, okay? And can we stop wearing these fucking pajamas? Yeah, I get it, it rhymes, but I wanna wear other shit for once! I’m sick of dressing like a Jew in Auschwitz cuz it’s a fucking bummer, to be honest. I hate being a mindless letter and number that agrees with you all the time; I wanna think independently and have my own identity! I’m sick of running downstairs and chasing bears just cuz it fucking rhymes! And so are the bears, to be honest. There’s a very fine line between ‘catching them unawares’ and harassment. And just because different activities sound similar, doesn’t mean we have to do all of them. If I wanna go to the beach, I shouldn’t also have to reach for a peach and leech and make a fucking speech. Look, B2, you’re my best mate, we’ve been through a lot and we’re fruits that walk around and say shit, but I think I’m clinically depressed. I’m gonna make like me and split. It’s killing myself time.”

**

Imagine if birds were deliberately shitting on us? They just look down at us from above like, “Hm, who can I shit on today? I think I’ll get that bald fucker over there. I’m gonna squirt my jizzy shit all over his face.”

**

I don’t know how to talk to people. The only things that I know how to do are the three things that I love doing: writing, eating and drinking water. My life is just me trying to do those three things as much as possible. When I’m not doing those three things, I’m trying to navigate my way around whatever obstacle is blocking my access to those three things whether it be work, a conversation, or even an entire friendship or relationship that I stumbled into but never intended on committing to.

**

Sometimes I do music and this one time I was sitting at a gig and this guy came up to me, said his name was Greg, said he liked our music and then he invited us to sleep over at his house and write a song together. I didn’t want to do that. I wanted to go home instead because my house doesn’t contain strangers called Greg telling me shit I don’t care about. Greg did nothing wrong. In fact, he was very nice - he let me smoke his weed which felt good to totally exploit. I just didn’t give a shit about Greg’s existence and I never will because Greg is 55 and male, which is the one demographic of people on Earth that I want to talk to the least. Because 55 year old men - bless them, I’ll be one soon - but unless they’re my dad or uncle, they have nothing to offer me except for knowledge which doesn’t count for much today because I have Google. Anyway, Greg was telling me his life story at the gig and I remember thinking, “Great. Now I have to have a ‘Greg’ folder in my memory that takes up kilobytes of useless information about some random nothing of a person that I will never see again and when this conversation is over (which is hopefully soon), I will send the ‘Greg’ folder straight to my brain’s recycle bin and empty it immediately.” His name is Greg Love, by the way. And his name makes sense because his behaviour strongly suggests that he just wants to be loved and I gave him nothing.

**

Time for a bit of observational comedy. Have you ever been such a stoner that you smoke the ashes of the weed that you’ve already smoked because you know it contains just a little bit of THC and you’ll do anything to get high because you’re a worthless, unemployed pile of dog shit that should have been aborted and chucked in the garbage with all the other dead fetuses?

**

have you ever said a word that you didn’t want to say? you’re like, “fuck, why did i say that word? that was the wrong word to fucking use. Fuck.”

**

Do you ever wake up at 8:30AM and feel really proud of yourself for waking up at the same time that normal, productive, functioning adults with jobs do and then you think, “Well, it couldn’t hurt to lie in bed for a little bit longer?” and then you wake up again and it’s 1:00PM and you want to kill yourself?

**

You know when someone gives you something for free and there’s about five seconds where you have to pretend like you object to their decision? “I can’t accept this! I fucking so want it, but for some bullshit reason I gotta pretend I don’t until you give me the social green light, and then I can shrug and sheepishly pocket it while thinking ‘Fucking yes, cheers you dumb bitch!’

**

Have you ever noticed that there’s always a mosquito nearby trying to suck some of your blood to survive, whether it’s real or metaphorical? Real in the summertime, metaphorical always.

**

Have you ever noticed that Barack Obama completely stole his campaign slogan from Bob the Builder? I wanna know what Bob’s secret is because none of my friends have “so much fun” at work, and get the job done. It’s either one or the other but never both. Maybe Bob’s secret is that he’s not fucking real. Maybe that explains it.

**

Have you ever noticed how all decency and compassion goes out the window when someone disagrees with someone else, politically? Even if Donald Trump tweeted, “My son Barron just got leukemia, I am devastated,” I can guarantee his Twitter feed will be flooded with thousands of angry, vicious replies, just like it is with every other Tweet he makes. “Good, fuck him…you ruined our country, so he deserves it.” None of us have the answers to any of the questions raised by politics and morality since they’re too complex for our limited monkeys brains to understand, yet these are the two things, more than anything in the world, that inspire deep hatred for one another.

**

Have you ever noticed that dogs kind of look like they’re laughing when they’re panting?

Have you ever wondered if animals think cars are other animals? ** Have you ever been walking down the street, doing your thing, and then you hear a police siren and you pretend you’re a criminal mastermind on the run? Have you ever been such a paranoid fuck that every time you hear a police siren, you immediately think they’re coming to arrest you? But then after two seconds the car passes and you remember that while the porn you look at is very weird, it’s not illegal and law enforcement doesn’t give a single shit about your existence.

**

I feel sorry for The Gingerbread Man. Put yourself in his doughy, frosted shoes for a second. First of all, you were born in an oven. How fucking terrifying is that? You started your life in the same place that many Jews ended theirs. And then, barely seconds into your existence, before you’ve even had time to figure out why you’re in a fucking furnace, the woman who created you is trying to eat you! If I was a biscuit that was miraculously born with fully formed muscles capable of locomotion, and some old bitch was trying to shove me in her face, I’d be running away too! He had two choices: get the fuck out of there, or get eaten alive and become an old lady’s diarrhea. My sympathy for him vanished as soon as he became a smartass, though. “Run, run, as fast as you can, you can’t catch me, I’m the Gingerbread Man!” Do you say the same thing to cripples, bitch?

**

I think it’s funny that Hindus love cows because it’s definitely not mutual. If a cow saw a dead Hindu on the ground, it would happily shit on his dead face. It would have no compunction in emptying the contents of its four stomachs all over his fucking worthless, formerly religious head.

**

I think it’s funny that Caitlyn Jenner is really ugly. I think it’s funny that she got away with killing someone because she cut her dick off. I think it’s funny that I’m calling her “she.”

**

I think it’s funny that thesaurus.com lists 50 synonyms for the word “redundant.”

**

I think it’s funny that there’s a small part of me that hates myself for going on stage and trying to gain the approval and respect of a room full of strangers. If I was in the crowd right now watching myself, I’d be disgusted by my own ego. I think it’s funny that entertainers get paid. We don’t build your houses, feed you, protect you from harm, drive you anywhere, save your life or add anything to human knowledge. That’s your job. And you get money from it and give it to us. Suckers.

**

I think it’s funny that there are people out there who are too stupid to know they’re stupid, too mental to know they’re mental or completely unaware that they’re both.

**

I think it’s funny that there are white worms that have no idea that 1) they’re in my ass right now and 2) they’re very enthusiastically eating my shit.  I think it’s funny that I murder the population of Japan every time I jack off.

**

I think it’s funny that I have the longest dick that’s ever existed, on the spectrum between “pitifully small” and “slightly below average.” So I’m saying it’s slightly below average. “What’s the point of me existing if you never use me?” said my dick and Facebook account.

**

I think it’s funny that all you need to do to sound really condescending is place the word “little” in front of every noun that you say. “So how’s your little marriage going with your little wife?” Adorable works too. “You still got that adorable job of yours?” Or you can use both. “Wow, you’ve carved out an adorable little career for yourself, haven’t you?”

**

Here’s how you can immediately convert a religious person to atheism: tell them there’s no proof that God exists. If they still believe in God after that, shoot them and they won’t do it anymore.

**

I love water. Why the fuck do we drink things that aren’t water? Why isn’t it good enough? How is everyone not standing around a public water tap all day? It’s a piece of metal sticking out of the ground that you can drink amazing shit from for hours! I’ve never met a single person who hates water. “Water? Fucking gross. No thanks.”

**

I love coffee and Indian food but my asshole doesn’t because when I go to the bathroom an hour later, a waterfall of highly pressurized, turbulent diarrhea explodes out of my asshole like the Hoover Dam bursting at the seams. It’s like that scene at the end of The Two Towers when the talking trees release the river. Isengard is my toilet bowl and the tidal wave of water that engulfs the entire city is my semi-digested beef vindaloo. My post-coffee diarrhea has a very high Reynold’s number (I’m sure my parents are pleased that I’m putting my engineering education to good use).

**

I love watching people miss the train. I get a big kick out of watching some business guy frantically sprinting from the ticket barrier to the train platform only to realize that the doors won’t open and that the train that would’ve gotten him to work on time is leaving without him. Meanwhile I’m lounging in the train and watching him through the window, mentally masturbating at the look of utter defeat on his sweaty, disheveled face.

**

I love Ray Barone. So does everybody, apparently. He’s one funny son of a bitch. Get it? Because his mother is a bitch!

**

I love dogs. Don’t we all? Well, except nutcases. In fact, “Do you like dogs?” should be the first and only question psychologists ask patients when they’re diagnosing for sociopathy. “Do you like dogs?” “Nope.” “Alright, fucking nutcase then. Moving on.” We love dogs because they love us. It’s that simple. Cats don’t love us; they’re in it for themselves. Dogs cast their egos aside and wear their hearts on their sleeve; they pout, whine and cry for your attention because they aren’t afraid to show that they’re clingy and vulnerable. Cats are afraid, because they’re pussies that are too pussy to be pussies. Dogs are like the bouncers of your house. When they’re barking at someone, they’re saying, “Can I see your ID?” I get along with dogs better than I do humans, because hanging out with a dog is like being in a nice, comfortable bubble with no criticism and judgement. If a human thinks I’m an asshole, he can say it to my face and I’ll feel bad. If a dog thinks I’m an asshole, what’s he gonna do, not wag his tail at me? He can’t hurt my feelings!

**

I love eavesdropping. I drop so many eaves. I don’t know what they are, but I  drop them like it’s fucking hot. Whether it’s on trains, planes, buses, cafes, restaurants, airports, I’m always keen to stick my fucking curious nose into other people’s lives. Just for once in my life, I don’t wanna have to hide the fact that I’m listening to someone else’s conversation on the train. I wanna turn in my seat, face them directly and say, “I’m listening to every word of your conversation and I’m judging your personalities in my head as I do so. This is public transport and I’m allowed to listen to the sounds that you choose to make audible with your mouth. If you don’t like it, feel free to retreat to the safety of your private property, but until then, carry on with your recreational conversation that adds nothing to human knowledge or the economy while I silently, peacefully and legally scrutinize every word that comes out of your mouth. No pressure.”

**

If you’re counting to 100 on a plane, make sure not to skip “10″ or you will scare a lot of people.

**

I once saw a bug on a can of insecticide and I remember thinking, “That’s a dumb cunt bug that doesn’t know it’s a dumb cunt.” The bug probably thought it was a genius hiding spot. “Humans will never find me here!” Speaking of stupid arthropods, this one time I saw a spider who had weaved its web on my shower head. That’s like a human building a house on a volcano.

**

How does your brain create the experience of a Japanese guy shitting in your mouth on a hot day? The process begins when light from the sun bounces off the warm mudslide of shit spurting violently out of the Japanese guy’s asshole, and enters your eyes. In your eyes, the electromagnetic energy of each photon is converted into electricity, which is sent to the occipital lobe at the back of your head, which converts it into a video file called “Sight.mov.” As the Japanese dude struggles to empty the contents of his bowels down your gullet, his vocal cords vibrate to produce a grunting sound, and the vibrations travel out of his mouth, into the air around you, and eventually into your ears; the mechanical energy of each moving vibration in your ear is converted into electricity, which is sent to your temporal lobe, which converts it into an audio file called “Sound.mp3.” Odor molecules wafting from the Japanese man’s diarrhea are swept up into your nostrils; the mechanical energy of the offensive aroma permeating your nose is converted into electricity, which is sent to your temporal lobe, which converts it into a file called “Scent.smel.” This file is particularly unpleasant due to all the sushi in the Japanese guy’s diet. As you chow down on his fecal matter, each morsel of shit comes into contact with the surface of your tongue, pressing it downwards slightly. The mechanical energy from the motion that occurs during this surface deformation is converted into electricity, which is sent to your parietal lobe, which converts it into a file called “Touch.feel.” Meanwhile, on another part of your tongue, each tastant molecule in the Japanese dude’s excrement dissolves in your saliva. Proteins in your tongue recognise these tastant molecules as either sweet, sour, salty or bitter molecules, and the mechanical energy of each molecule is converted into electricity; this taste-related electrical information is then sent to your parietal lobe, which converts it into a file called “Taste.gust.” All five of these files are then imported into some neurological software built into your brain similar to Adobe Premiere Pro. The software combines these five sensory files into a single file, the project is saved with the name, “The utterly revolting experience of eating a Japanese guy’s shit.consc,” and uploaded to your consciousness. It’s at this precise moment that you become aware of every different shape, size and shade of brown on each undigested shit-nugget entering your oral cavity and sliding down your throat; every detail of its warm temperature, bitter taste and puke-like consistency is experienced at once, along with every smell on the spectrum of foul to fucking odious. That’s how your brain creates the experience of a Japanese guy shitting in your mouth on a hot day.

**

Right now, in each of the trillions of cells in your body, there are millions of chemical reactions going on at once just to keep you alive. There are molecules working round the clock to keep your heart pumping and your muscles moving. There are molecules hacking away at the food in your body like biological lumberjacks; molecules chopping up harmful viruses and bacteria into tiny little pieces like axe murderers; molecules transporting oxygen and nutrients throughout your body like cardiovascular taxis;  molecules on your skin defending your body from viruses and bacteria like soldiers on the front line; molecules tirelessly pumping substances in and out of your cells every second of every day. But what I find most interesting about these chemical reactions in your body is that they never reach equilibrium, meaning all of these molecules never stop working. They don’t get days off or weekends. They don’t even get to sleep. These molecules are Spartan warriors that never get tired and never give up. They slave away, working their fingers to the bone…just to keep some fat cunt alive while he watches TV.

**

I hate mortality. Why do I have to fucking die? That sucks.

**

I hate when someone goes “wish me luck!” Don’t tell me what to do and don’t assume that I want you to do well. I wish you very shit luck, I hope you don’t succeed at whatever you’re doing and I hope you die in the process.

**

I hate watching, hearing and reading the news because I don’t wanna hear about terrorism, war and depleting resources but, on the other hand, I like the news because it makes conversations with boring people less painful. (Earnest)“So, did you hear about that thing that happened that was way more interesting than you - you - you dull cunt?”

**

I hate my hair. My hair makes me look like Seth Rogen if he just woke up, got electrocuted, and then went to the barber and asked for the Kramer. I hate my skin. My skin is the sun’s bitch. Every day those ultraviolet rays bend my skin over and fuck it right in its Scottish, freckle-covered, albino asshole. My skin is so piss-weak that I need sunscreen with SPF 5,000,000,000+ because I’m whiter than a sick Caspar in Alaska on Christmas Day in a Klan outfit. Caspar the Unfriendly, Nauseous and Racist Ghost. My skin is such a pussy that I walk outside and it immediately turns red faster than Alabama on election day and my sister’s tampons. Which reminds me, I hate bleeding. Every time I bleed in the ocean, my blood is advertising my own flesh to a target demographic of sharks in a three mile radius. Bleeding is when your skin sweats pain. I hate sweating. I’ve got Scottish genes, which makes me ill-adapted to live on a hot desert island like Australia so I sweat more than Pat Rafter in a sauna in Singapore with weed in his pocket. I’m the only one sweating on a cold day and in summer I sweat so much that I have to change my shirt three times a day, which shits me up the wall. I hate vomiting. It feels like I’m dying every time I do it. I’ve vomited at: weddings, birthdays, concerts, funerals and rock bottom. I’ve vomited in: toilets, taxis, strip clubs, sinks, gardens and drunken states of consciousness. I’ve vomited on: footpaths, couches, carpets, rugs, boats, beds, benders and other people. I’ve also vomited on grass, on grass. Which reminds me of another thing I hate: when adults think that jokes about sex, drugs and alcohol are more clever than jokes about books, chairs and tables just because the former topics are more taboo than the latter ones. I also hate how even in this paragraph my morals are contradictory and inconsistent. I hate when writers get too meta and self-aware. Fucking smartasses.

**

I hate when men try to be my friend. I’m not interested in being friends with men because they have nothing to offer me. They don’t have anything on their bodies that I want to touch, especially their very ugly penises. Plenty of men have a bunch of facts that they can teach me but I already have a friend who can teach me more facts and his name is Google. Some of you probably think I’m being sexist here and you’re exactly right. In fact, heterosexuality is sexist by definition since straight people discriminate potential partners based on gender. Any man that wants to be my friend should send in a resumé to idontgiveashit@goaway.com. In all seriousness, if you have a dick and you want to socialize with me, I charge $500 an hour because I demand to be compensated for the mental and emotional labor involved in giving a shit about anything you have to say. Wanna hang out with me for four hours? Cool, then give me $2000 upfront in cash before we start. I’m not kidding.

**

I hate the phrase “the one,” because the whole concept doesn’t make sense. Consider a hypothetical woman called Shelly who’s into men and believes in the concept of “the one.” I’ll assume 90% of men are into women and that Shelly doesn’t want to date minors and men over 60 so she’s ageist but at least she’s not a pedophile. If you crunch all the numbers you’ll find that Shelly thinks only one person out of 2.25 billion potential partners is compatible with her so she’s clearly a picky bitch with ridiculously high standards. If you’re not fussy as fuck like Shelly then there are millions of people out there for you and “the one” is a crock of shit. I hate the phrase “love at first sight.” If you look at someone and you get goosebumps or butterflies in your stomach, that’s not love you melodramatic moron. That’s physical attraction.

**

I hate when people say “you need to get laid.” As if sex solves all of life’s problems. As if having an orgasm for three seconds will pay all your bills for the rest of the year and bring your dead son back to life. Sex barely solves any of life’s problems. In fact, it causes a lot of them. Diseases, unwanted pregnancies, break-ups, divorces and life itself. Of course, the perfect response to this would be to say, “Whoever wrote this needs to get laid!” No I don’t, I already fucked your mother and I’m still pissed off at the world.

**

A friend of mine once described Trump as the guy in the book club who hasn’t read the book. “The book was so great. It had a very strong plot, that I can tell you. It had an incredible beginning, an incredible middle and an incredible end, believe me. You know it and I know it. You look at page 8, you look at page 32, you look at Chapter 3, you look at so many things going on in this novel. You look at the conflict, you look at the resolution. It’s gonna make literature so good, it’s gonna make readers proud, it’s gonna make publishers win again.” 

**

I wish I had a girlfriend. I wish I could click my fingers and have any woman I want appear on my lap. But the woman has to want to be on my lap. I don’t want Angelina Jolie to be doing her laundry only to vanish into thin air and reappear on some stranger’s lap and start freaking out. I want her to be teleported to my lap and then be like, “That was weird but now that I’m here, I like it. I definitely want to remain here on your lap and I’d like you to feel my tits.”

**

As a chronic wanker, I’m always on the lookout for the hottest pornographic video of all time. I’m an astronaut of perversion, exploring the boundless, limitless cosmos of internet pornography in search of the holy grail of eroticism; the one Porn Hub clip to rule them all. Every time I think I’ve found it, the novelty inevitably wears off and I resume my search, wondering to myself, “Will I ever find it? Or am I being too idealistic and chasing an unattainable high?” But then it happened, folks. I found it. I hit the jackpot of depravity and found the porn equivalent of life on Mars. A video so hot that merely replaying it in my mind gives me a boner. In fact, as I write this I’m thinking about masturbating to it later tonight and I’m more excited than Big Kev. The first time I watched it, I was alone in the dark, with curtains drawn, headphones in and the video playing on my laptop. From the first stroke, the pleasure soared and soared until it eventually peaked with the best orgasm I’ve ever had in my life. It was a moment of pure ecstasy, my friends. I cleaned myself up and added it to my Favorites immediately, secure in the knowledge that I would never have to enter another lewd search query into Google again because I knew right then and there that I wanted to spend the rest of my life jacking off to this video. Through sickness and in health, for better or worse, until death do us part.

**

When it comes to writing statuses on social media, not everyone needs to see a picture of every meal you eat and every shit you take afterwards; unless it’s a meal that nobody’s seen before or a turd so big that it clogs the toilet. A bigger piece of shit than Bono and the record-setting turd that Randy Marsh took.

**

“No comment” is a comment. “No offense” usually precedes something offensive. “I’m not going to dignify that with a response” is a response. The word “sesquipedalian” is sesquipedalian. A tautology is a tautology, which is a tautology. Circular definition (noun): A definition that is circular. Thesaurus.com lists 50 synonyms for the word “redundant.” The other day I wrote a to-do list with only one item: “Stop writing things down and trust your memory, idiot.” Sources make academic writing boring to read (James’s asshole, 2017). Any dude that takes magic mushrooms must be a really fun guy. I had a joke about Alzheimer’s, but I forgot what it was…oh that’s right, it was a really predictable one that wasn’t worth telling. Roses are red, violets are blue/People are so uncreative that they can only make jokes by using old templates and replacing a few words which is pretty much what passes for humor on the internet these days so fuck you. I’ve got no interest in interest rates, no business in businesses and I don’t want a company’s company. I turn down the TV when they’re talking about a downturn and I’d rather eat take-out alone than take out a loan, and you can bank on that. I love the feeling of a shower head above my head in the shower as I get head in the shower. Fuck, that makes me wanna head in the shower. I once saw a spider web underneath my shower head. That’s like a human building a house on a volcano. I have the longest dick that’s ever existed…on the spectrum between pitifully small and slightly below average. Nah, I actually do have a large dick. And brain. And capacity to lie. Like when I say “I love you” to my girlfriend, for example. Another example is when I say I have a girlfriend. I can relate to Voldemort because he’s pale, egotistical, terrified of death and he spends a lot of time alone with his snake. “What the hell’s the point of me existing if you never use me?” said my dick and Facebook account. “I always tell the truth, even when i lie.” That’s actually not possible, Scarface, you stupid drug addict. If you’re ever counting to 100 on a plane, don’t skip 10 or you’ll get in trouble. The only thing I can say in French is, “J’ai oublie tout de mon francais.” Technology is humans working really hard to make their lives really easy. Vacuum cleaners, straws and girlfriends are the only things that are awesome when they suck a lot. I always panic at the disco because I’m worried they’ll play that band’s shitty music. I speak fluent Rihanna…anna, anna, eh, eh, eh. Fans of Leonardo Fibonacci will like this sentence: I, a pi fan, solve problems algebraically. I’ve contemplated suicide many times, but the jury’s still out on whether or not I’ll hang myself. Hung jury, eh?  It’s a shame that the authors of suicide notes don’t ever get feedback on their work. YOLO stands for “you only live once.” Or YOLOPALTLFWSPFS for religious people (you only live once plus another life that lasts forever which sounds pretty fucking shit). Penn Jillette writes with a razorblade.

**

I sat around thinking the other day, very deeply and pensively, and I came to the conclusion to that I’m probably the dumbest, most worthless fucking moron who’s ever existed. I am such an unbelievably stupid cunt. I’m a pile of dog shit that should been aborted and chucked in the garbage with all the other fetuses. 

**

I’m socially retarded (can’t talk to people), biologically retarded (small dick), psychologically retarded (depression), financially retarded (unemployed, living with my parents) and emotionally retarded (I offend people all the time).

**

I was so high last night. Higher than the budget of a Michael Bay movie. Higher than Michael Jackson’s album sales, notes, vocal range, musical quality, income, the cost and area of his Neverland Ranch, the praise of his fans and his dosage at the time of death. Higher than infinity, Avogadro’s number, the largest known prime number and the computing power required to calculate it. Higher than the autotuned voices of Mickey Mouse and Elmo on helium with a chipmunk filter. Higher than the voice of Towelie. Higher than Towelie. Higher than Ozzy Osbourne, Charlie Sheen, Jesse Pinkman and Keith Richards bouncing on stilts on trampolines at the top of Mount Everest. Higher than Jumping Jai Taurima. Higher than the blood sugar level, BMI, weight, calorific intake and cholesterol of a fat diabetic woman taking twenty shots of glucagon in Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory. Higher than a hot chick’s self-esteem and Instagram traffic. Higher than Einstein’s brainpower and IQ, the speed of light he studied, the amount of nuclear energy his intellect unleashed upon the world and the death toll that it caused. Higher than the collective death toll of the Holocaust, the Rwanda massacre, the Armenian genocide, The Black Death, Communist Russia, Communist China, The Rape of Nanjing, The Boxing Day tsunami, the Permian and Cretaceous extinctions, every war in human history and 9/11. Speaking of 9/11, I was higher than the World Trade Center in 2000, the planes that destroyed it in 2001, the temperature at which it burned to ashes, the potential energy of the people jumping out, the terminal velocity they reached in the air, the increase in the universe’s entropy as a result of the collapse, the Heaven that the hijackers thought they were going to, the ratings of every news outlet that day and the amount of chaos, airport security and military expenditure that followed. Higher than the sky and everything in it: clouds, blimps, the Hindenburg just before it exploded, hot air balloons, zeppelins, rockets and UFOs. Higher than people are when they “see” a UFO. Higher than a bird. Higher than Zazu, Pride Rock and the cliff that Scar threw Mufasa off. Higher than my BAC the other night when I drove into some old bitch. Higher than her age, the pressure in my tires when I backed up on her, the pitch of her screams as I did so and the sentence I would have received if I got caught. Higher than a First World country’s GDP and standard of living. Higher than the number of similes I just used. That’s how high I was last night.

**

I wish I could be a kid again, armed with the knowledge that I have now as an adult. I’d do trick or treating very differently. “Yeah, give me your candy, you fucking moron. Yeah, put it in the bag, bitch. Yeah, thanks for the free food, you fucking dumb cunt.” In their eyes, I’d be a kid that didn’t know any better so I’d get away with it

**

Hi, I’m James, a white guy in a vast universe of white dwarves, black holes and black-body radiation. I’m the black sheep of my white-bread family; I often tell white lies. I was bitten by the black dog and I talk black, dog. I do black music like Black Thought. I never had blackheads or pearly whites and I’d rather have a white collar job than be a blacksmith or work at White Castle. I drink white coffee, black tea and Black Russians but I hate white wine. I eat white chocolate and White Knights, smoke White widow and Black & Mild and I buy white powder on the black market. I wear all black, hate the All Blacks and I hate white supremacists that hate all blacks. You know, the ones that try to blackball, blacklist and blackmail black males and hated the first black man in The White House. These are the same folks that see the world in black and white and get black eyes from Black Panthers and Black Lives Matter activists with black belts like Dana White. I like the comedy Blackadder, the black comedy of Jack Black, blackjack and Black Ops. I like the songs White America, White Wedding, Back In Black, Black Betty and Black Or White but I hate Black and Yellow, Welcome To The Black Parade and Black Skinhead. I like Black Sabbath, The Black Album by Jay Z, The White Album by The Beatles, The White Stripes and Barry White but I hate white noise like Whitey Ford, black metal, Rebecca Black, Black Veil Brides and the Black Eyed Peas. I like black-and-white movies, Black Swan, Black Hawk Down and Orange Is The New Black. My favorite fictional characters are Sirius Black, Mr Black from The Simpsons, the black men in Men In Black, Postman Pat’s black and white cat, Snow White, Walter White, Gandalf the White from the White Council who fought orcs at the Black Gate and the White Witch with black magic deadlier than Great White Sharks, white rhinos, black rhinos, American black bears, red-bellied black snakes, Black Mambas, Black Widows, The Black Death and Black Saturday. I’m not a fan of white water rafting, white flag raising, pots calling kettles black and black-outs cuz I can’t charge my white Blackberry. I can, however, still use the White Pages if I ever wanna find houses with white picket fences on Whitehorse Road in Blackburn.

**

A LITANY OF ALLITERATED LITERATURE

I have frizzy follicles and a forehead of facial freckles. I freestyle like Funkmaster Flex, Flava Flav, Fabolous, Fergie and Future. I find flatulent farts fucking funny and frequently fantasize about fame, fortune and fondling, fucking, fingering, fisting and fornicating the fannies of foxy, foreign females from Finland, France and Fiji. I’m a fastidious, fascinating freak with a foot fetish that furiously faps to femme fatale femdoms that flagellate, flog, flay, flail and ferule. My favorite foods are Freddo Frogs, French fries, fried fish fingers, Funyuns, frankfurts, fettucine, pho, flatbread, Flathead fish fillets and fresh, fat-free fruits from the freezer and fridge. I’m no fond fan of Fanta and frothy, fruit-flavored frappucinos. Foster’s makes my faculties fuzzy and foggy till I fall face-first on the floor. I use Frequent Flyers on fungus fueled flights of fancy at Falls Festival. I foresee a future free of fossil fuels and factory farming. I floor my Ford Focus down freeways faster than a feral fox, a flamingo in full flight, The Flash, a fitness freak, and a felonious fugitive fleeing the feds in a Ferrari, like Fast & Furious. Feminists are frumpy, fat, fugly and flabby foes with Fred Flinstone’s features. They make my phallus flaccid and floppy. Physics focuses on forces like friction. Four and five are factors of forty, and four fifths is a fraction and a fatal firearm. Federer is physically fit as a fiddle with a fantastic, phenomenal forehand. Fringe fundamentalists, like Fred Phelps, are full-fledged fuckwits that find flamboyant, fudge-packing, phallus-fellating, fella-fucking, flaming faggots with fabulous fashion, like the Fab Five, even fouler and filthier than fetid, funky, festering feces. They forego physics in favor of faith and fixate on fallacious, false, foolish, fatuous, facile, fictional, fact-free, philosophically and fundamentally flawed fables with a frightening, feverish, fanatical, frenzied and fervid fervor, like the faithful followers of the fascist, fearful Fuhrer. I favor frank and forthright folks over phony, fibbing, fabricating frauds with feigned fronts and facades who forge fictitious falsehoods faker than Facebook friends. Feathers are phenotypic features of falcons, fowls, finches, flickers, pheasants and the phoenix Fawkes, from the fictional fantasy film franchise featuring Filch, Fudge, Fang, The Fat Friar, Filius Flitwick, Florean Fortescue, Firenze, Fluffy, The Forbidden Forest and Felix Felicis, the fluid of fortune. Flora: five fingered ferns, firs, fennels, figs, flaxes, frangipani flowers, fronds and feverfews. Fauna: fawns, ferrets, furry felines, flying frogs, fruit flies, fireflies, fleas and flatworms.

**

I think it’s funny that in terms of life, humans only care about plants because we can eat them and get high from them; animals because we can eat them, fuck them and get high with them; fungi because we can eat them, get high from them and Mario; bacteria because they’re a threat to our existence, and fuck all that other bullshit. There are billions of other living things out there but we left them out of our art and culture because nobody gives a shit about a bunch of sea weed-y, sludgy shit. No one wants to read a children’s book called Peter the Protist, Albert the Alveolate, Sammy the Slime Mold or Archie the Archaeon.

**

Brush your teeth twice a day.

No, it’s 2.13 times a day.

Here’s the proof.

If you think I’m overstating how significant this finding is, or that there’s just a negligible difference between 2.13 and 2, you’re an idiot. Cuz if 100 days pass and on each day he brushes his teeth 2 times per day, he brushes his teeth 200 times overall, whereas if he brushes his teeth 2.13 times a day, he brushes his teeth 213 times overall in the 100 day period.

Make sure your government doesn’t become a dictatorship, because it very well can. Happened in Germany. Happened in Italy. Happened in Russia. Kinda still happening in Russia. Happened in China. Happened in Mongolia. Happening in North Korea. Happened on Planet Vegeta when Frieza enslaved the Saiyan race. Happened to the wizarding world at large when the Dark Lord rose to power. Twice.. Happened in Cambodia. Happened in Burma. Happened in Make sure you identify all possible dictators and prevent their dictatorial impulses from politically actualizing. Happened in a Sacha Baron Cohen movie. Charlie Chaplin one as well.