We are not a religious bunch of people. We are barely even spiritual. I’d characterize us each as people who are interested in simply being good, maybe even beyond reproach. Maybe some of the Junior Sneerists just bump along, existing until inevitably dying and turning to dust. That is to say, this was all the case until we discovered some rubble that was once a temple. Within that rubble were complete sketches of how the temple once looked, and mostly-indecipherable texts describing the rituals and beliefs of the worshipers who once populated this place.
The temple may be a metaphor, but the religion is real: Sneerholicism
Communities and cultures both small and large develop their own habits and traits. Along with their stories and traditions, superstitions tend to emerge. We are no different, of course.
When we say, “let’s post before 2 pm” it becomes almost inevitable that anything after that won’t get published until around 11:30 pm. We have to assume that any time we recruit a new writer, they will immediately get writer’s block for a few months or so. And god forbid you start your day by saying your Sneer work will be “easy.”
As you must know, YouTube is great for entertainment, but it is also great for learning and for sleeping and for calming down — all kinds of things! Little by little, I have been expanding the ways in which I depend on YouTube every single day. I don’t maintain manicured playlists of things which get deleted, nor do I upload my own videos, even though some day I will be a YouTube star of some kind. I mean, isn’t that the modern dream?
One of the things I rely on YouTube for is lectures. Now, don’t get me wrong, I generally hate lectures. In school, I had the hardest time in the world paying attention to a lecturer. And really, when I listen to lectures on here, I am not really paying the best attention. I have listened to dozens of them but I probably couldn’t tell you what they were even about! That’s okay though because I use them sort of as a blend of music and ambient sounds. And my favest of the faves, who I return to time and time again, is Aldous Huxley, as you probably gathered from the title. Give him a try with this little one, if you please.
Nothing can beat the splendor of the preserved beauty of nature for miles, lit by a setting sun while you sip a beer you snuck in. Public parks are great in nearly every form, and National Parks are a national treasure. There are 59 of them designated right now (although there are 417 units in the National Park Service) in these United States and I recommend racing your friends to visit the most.
At a lot of these parks, you’ll end up having to hike a bit. But good news! Hiking is just walking. Grab some fashionable yet comfortable sneakers, a reusable water bottle, and get your park on. Summer is the perfect season for sweating off your booty while enjoying one of these charming spots.
Plus, they need us! We all know how politics go, and don’t you want America to still be here in hundreds of years, in the form of natural landmasses that we had little to do with? Show your support by visiting and indicating that you appreciate their existence. Our national parks are doing a really great job lately, and we should each and every one of us let them know!
This time, rather than discuss one of our images, we wanted to show you one of the reasons we chose Redbubble. We just love the kinds of clothes they make and really, we want it all ourselves. If you see any single thing in the store, it’s up because we want it too. So here’s a selection of our favorite summer looks courtesy of Amandoll’s art and Redbubble’s awesome shit.
We have a lot of fears. Some make sense; others, not so much. This latter type will be featured once monthly until we run out of material, at which point, we might begin accepting the fears of our readers.
I’m not sure if I actually have “social anxiety,” or if I just have anxious times while out and about, or if maybe I had it once, and am doing better now. But very definitely for a while this was a very serious concern of mine. Ever since I was a child and saw TV’s Bloopers and Practical Jokes, starring that dream team of Dick Clark and Ed McMahon, I became horrified by the idea that people would film pranks and then air them on television for the viewing public to see. Later, there have been plenty of other such shows, some meaner than others, and of course now there is YouTube and I’m even going to include improv groups who like to make “magic” in the form of awkward public scenes. Shudder.
I’m aware that I think legally, for the most part, they have people sign release forms to be displayed on television. But I am not sure what YouTube does to protect the average kid from being the target of such. Probably nothing. Look! I’m talking myself right back into having this as a strong irrational fear again! I know that this is statistically remote, but oh god, the horror. It is enough to make me never want to leave the house again. I can trust no one.
Any time a new animal friend enters my life, I find myself considering what name would suit it. I don’t mean that I take fifteen minutes before settling on the forever-name. I mean I draw up charts and make lists and say each word hundreds of times. I consult numerology and tea leaves and the phases of the moon. I read baby name books and dictionaries and look at the shapes of clouds hoping that one will inspire me suitably.
Perhaps many of you think I am going overboard when it comes to this sort of thing, but I used to stress over naming my Sims, too, so this is how seriously I take names! A pet will live out its entire lifespan (which it will obviously be spending entirely with you, responsible pet owner), so the name is crucial. You will be saying this word repeatedly, and eventually, engraving it on a little stone monument to mark its place in a pet cemetery. It’s the most important thing to this animal, after food, water, shelter, and pettings.
I talk about my sister often on Sneer Campaign. She’s pretty great! And if you memorize every word we say, you’ll remember that she’s a veterinarian and has two beautiful, big-headed, cuddly pit bulls. If you didn’t know, pit bull is pretty much an umbrella term, often also referred to as “bully breeds” and carries a lot of weight with it. (The weight is mostly in their giant silly heads.)
Tembo and Laika are two of the best dogs that anyone could hope for. Both were rescued and adopted into my sister’s loving, happy home. They’re as close as my sister and I were as kids. We still are, but maybe not as adorably.
I may idealize chickens. My grandparents had some when I was very young, and I have no negative memories associated with that time and apparently that’s all it takes for me to form an opinion that will never, ever change. But I can’t be wrong about this because clearly, all chickens are wonderful.
Now that we have the Sneer HQ, there has been talk of maybe getting a few hens for the back yard. They could help us garden, I assume, and provide us with breakfast supplies. At the very least, there is a nearby park and community garden that has chickens on the premises, so I can visit them and listen to their inquisitive clucking as they ask who I am and why I am not throwing feed their way.Continue reading
Before actually working at a party supply store, I was unaware that there are party supplies for EVERYTHING. I had previously been under the notion that people weren’t so stupid that they would need to run out and buy a giant bull skull to complete the look of their “Tex-Mex party,” which would just end up looking like a regular party except with a giant shitty foam bull skull hanging on the wall.
While perusing the mind-numbing amount of overpriced shit for parties, I wandered upon a section, nay, an entire AISLE, just for celebrating old people’s birthdays and such. Well, let me rephrase that since it’s not entirely the truth: An entire aisle just for mocking old people’s further decline into a miserable old age and eventually to a depressing death that will most likely be filled with memories of the time their children bought them a fake jar of Viagra for their 60th birthday.
Some would call them “gag” gifts, and I suppose they are. Only I have never seen so many, and some so completely brutal, in one area before — all for simply being old. It’s as if to say “Congratulations on living for 3/4 of a century and accomplishing more than most of us ever will, now put this chicken suit on and DANCE YOU OLD SHIT.”