My parents have always been well-off. At christmas, us kids would get like $1500 worth of toys and junk. each of us like 10-15 presents. I remember a few of them, but you know how much I would have given to hang out with my dad playing video games? All of those presents, from every christmas. He never had time for me, time for us. He was too busy trying to make as much money as he could. It rotted his brain. He truly believes that a persons worth is determined by the numbers in their bank account. So I guess I’ll always be a failure to him. I don’t speak to him anymore.

Keep offering to hang out.

I’ve only ever been to one. Been to a lot of protests, but only one political rally.

I went because the politician inspires noble actions, noble thoughts, and I wanted to hear him speak in person. I’ve been a supporter of his for quite a while now, and I wanted to physically show up for him just like I do metaphorically at my polling place. It wasn’t really about hearing his ideas, or receiving new information from him, it was just about being present in the moment, together in a throng of people who all gathered in solidarity with what he and his candidacy represents. Like, how you don’t have to worry about being embarrassed about singing your bands favorite songs out loud, when you’re in a crowd of people gathered to see that band. It was there that I could enthusiastically cheer for what I believe in, what I prioritize.

The rally I’m speaking about was for none other than Bernie Sanders. He was introduced by Donald Glover, and oddly enough, while introducing him, a bird alighted upon the podium, much like what happened at another rally he did. It was a great time, and I’m glad I was there. I’ll remember it for the rest of my life.

I like to do that with great albums. I’ll listen to the whole thing, just, over and over and over again. Until I’ve got pretty much the whole thing memorized. Then I go on to another one. I’ll only do it that way if the whole album is banging, though.

Past examples include:

• Beach Boys - Pet Sounds
• My Morning Jacket - Circuital
• Wu-Tang Clan - Enter the 36 Chambers
• Kendrick Lamar - Good Kid Maad City (& DAMN)
• RadioHead - Kid A (& OK Computer)
• Jeff Tweedy - Warm
• The Tragically Hip - Day For Night

EDIT: couldn’t find the full Tweedy Album, so just linked my favorite song from it

well Look at that, definitely never saw those before.

Rachel Ray is for people that aren’t sciencey enough for Alton Brown. I’m sure she has some good recipes, but she lent her name to a lot of bad products. I would not feed my pets her pet food.

Are we still in NATO? then, yes.

nah, it’s a legitimate complaint, and exactly the reason I stopped watching after a couple episodes. They portray cops like they’re “angel helpers” and it just reeks of bootlicking bullshit. The main character is Lucifer Morningstar, or the guy who’s main schtick is questioning authority, and yet he’s 5-0’s best friend. It completely destroys the idea behind the show, when the obvious corrupt organization is never taken to task. Atlanta shows cops as they are, this show is just copaganda.

Cloud Atlas

The Lord of the Rings Trilogy

Tora Tora Tora!

Oh Brother Where Art Thou

Gone with the Wind

I’m sitting here all comfy/cozy. I’m warm, with a full fridge, and a house all to myself with today and tomorrow off work. The feral pack of kittens I feed is trusting me more and more.

I believe in the afterlife.

I also believe that humans have the unconscious ability to influence their relative perception of time. Think of all the times that seemed to “fly by,” or moments that “last forever.” I think you do this unknowingly, and it’s usually connected to a heightened emotional state, which means you have an increased level of some neurochemical. I don’t think there’s a specific one responsible for altering our perception of time, just that they correlate.

That we have the ability to alter our perception of time is what allows us to have an “afterlife.”

What I believe, without evidence, is that when you die, your brain does a massive dump of all of it’s dopamine and serotonin, as well everything else, that let’s your final moment be one of peace and acceptance. Additionally, you will stretch your final moments till it seems a lifetime, all while hallucinating massively because of this huge dump of neurochemicals into your neocortex.

So during your final moments, whether you believe you’re going to a heaven or a hell, you’re right. Because that’s exactly where you’ll imagine yourself. If you think you’ll bounce around a field of billowy clouds while visiting loved ones with all your pets by your side, then you will. If you think you deserve to drown in a river of hellfire while the world laughs, then you will.

As an athiest, it kinda gives me something to look forward to. One final hurrah before nothingness.

Once I got sober I realized immediately that I married the wrong person. Part of that was her absolutely not wanting to have kids, whereas I just wasn’t ready for them yet.

• Ball rolls a bit but stops before going off the edge of the table
• Red
• Male
• Avg Height/Build, Brown hair, shaved face
• Like twice the size of a marble, like a bouncy ball
• Square, wooden table, lightly stained.

Knew the answers before being asked.

Oh god, what’s in the steaming tray in the last panel?? It’s a microwave meal, right?

…RIGHT?

Had a spider in my bathroom that I befriended. Named Steve. He was a tiny little thing that stayed on the crown molding, and had the foresight not to invade the inner sanctum of the shower space. I noticed Steve wasn’t catching many bugs, so I killed a fly, and while it was still twitching, I held it up for Steve to look at, then dropped said fly into his web. Steve must’ve been put off by the fact that the fly quickly died, and he didn’t bother eating it. Steve has now passed, starved up there in his web, without ever even touching that big ass fly I caught him.

Spiders are stupid. You’re a more efficient bug-killer by far, I’d wager.

When I was a kid I did gymnastics, and skateboarded/rollerbladed. This combination of activities meant I was falling on my ass all the god damn time.

It also means that I am so accustomed to falling, that even as I age, those instincts survive, and in turn, help me survive. When I fall, I tuck, I roll, I break my fall with any number of instinctual responses. This has lead to me surviving some scary falls I’ve taken whilst home alone (off a ladder, in the shower, fainting once when I got up from a long squat), and I think will help me survive more in my elder years.

Wow I haven’t watched that show in ages, but I totally remembered that bit!

Leela from Futurama

I don’t. I’ve since found out that it’s a trauma response. When people want me in a sexual way, I feel obligated to acquiesce. Childhood PTSD gave me a heavy freeze/fawn response, because you gotta do whatever you can to survive, and once ingrained, it never really lets go. I’ve been working on it a lot though, and think after a few years of celibacy, I may be ready to start dating again! Just gonna have to take things slow, and be ready to say “No.” But I believe in myself and that I am worthy of love! Self-Pep talk go!

You’re probably right about it being closer to 150, I do remember turning my head and feeling the air push my head hard, fighting to get back into the lowered, hugging-the-engine position I was in. T’was nuts. never again! Maybe if I’m on the salt flats with mad protective gear, but not on roads, not on a new-to-me bike. That was just a flash of brilliant, youthful, death defiance that I’m likely never to repeat. Might as well bounce on a trampoline under whirring helicopter blades 😅

Went to Sturgis for the motorcycle rally in the late aughts. Went to the Harley Dealership that was offering free test drives on all it’s latest models. The guy leading the test drive said that anyone who wanted to go fast should be right up in front behind him. I wanted to go fast, so I was second in line, right behind him, on a brand new V-Rod (I think it was the 2007 almost 1300 CC engine).

He lead us on a dirt road parallel to the highway for a minute, going like 65 mph, which wasn’t so bad, but I peeked behind me and the cloud of dust we were trailing was impressive, I wondered how the guys behind me were even keeping sight of us! Then, he turned and got on the highway. Man he opened his up so fast, I almost lost sight of him. I gased that V-Rod so hard just to keep him in eye sight, that the segmented white lines between lanes just turned into one solid line to my vision. I checked my speedometer and swear I was around 160-180mph. That shit was unreal, passing cars going highway speed like they were standing still, on a bike I had never ridden before.

And that’s why I won’t let myself buy a crotch rocket. Give me a 90’s model sportster that maxes out at like 90mph, because I’m scared if I have a machine that can go that fast, I may be tempted to try it again, and the idea of becoming a meat-crayon isn’t something I aspire to.

My Dad is a doctor who would bring home pictures of gnarly cases he worked on, and every single one of them would be motorcycle accidents. Doesn’t stop him from riding one, and with a fake-DOT helmet (if one at all), but it sure stopped me from ever wanting to emulate those speed-demons that go over 100 weaving through traffic and shit. Those people are insane to me.

It’s so much fun to dive-bomb down a mountain road, but as soon as you get a little rain, a little shimmy develops in your front steering column that cascades into being thrown over the handlebars… I’ve had a few close calls, where during a race and during a regular ride, where I almost ate shit hard… Yeah, I’ll just slow down a bit sooner next time 😳