Honor, stalk, creep out — whatever you want to call it, this loving activity that you can do publicly or very much in secret, with the subject being a dear friend, acquaintance, or total stranger, is a cathartic creative process. We of course know all about what to do and how to do it with a mastery of style and much enthusiasm and we would like to teach you, the whole world, how to do it too.
In my demonstration today, I will use our friend, Frant. It is his birthday and he is deserving of all of the heavy-handed, cloying, and terrifying respect that we can lob his way. The goal is to make anyone you wish to adore feel like they are drowning in it, if they were to find out. “It” could here mean “the pleasure of being worshiped” or “the fear of being trapped somehow.” Different people give rise to different scenarios, but we know that unlike cchris, Frant will enjoy this. At least HE HAD BETTER.
So Black Mirror is gross and weird sometimes and obviously none of us are going to watch all of it. My loving roommate watched some episodes of the new season first, then let me know what was worth checking out. I didn’t get past the first episode because omg.
This episode is called Nosedive and it’s The Dream. It’s my understanding that Black Mirror is kind of a set of oh-no what-if episodes about futuristic things and therefore we’re not supposed to get excited about living in that particular reality. And, to be fair, this episode doesn’t have a happy ending for the protagonist. But who cares about her? There’s over 7 billion other people on Earth probably having a great time.
Whether you are lazy, forgot about Halloween, didn’t have time, or even just hate it, you may have missed your opportunity for a heavily planned out costume that matches your friends and/or lovers and will blow everyone’s mind. The time has passed. And we’re here to help.
These costumes cost nothing or very little. You may or may not have all of the pieces necessary already in your home. You can throw these together in just a few minutes with little preparation, and it’ll be just enough that your friends will shrug and say, “well at least you tried.”
So open up your closet and get some tape. It’s fucking Halloween. Special thanks to the Sneer Writers and Helpers featured below.
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.
Today I am exploring a relatively recent irrational fear. No, it is a fear that I have had for as long as I can remember, but until last month, I thought it was a very reasonable fear to harbor. Dollissa and Frant were visiting me, and I mentioned this preoccupation of mine, and why I could never really enjoy balloons at all, and couldn’t understand why people seem to enjoy them so much when they could kill you. They were bewildered. Then I explained that if a balloon popped and I gasped and it became lodged in my throat, it wouldn’t be easy to get out because it would stick to my insides, and that would be a terrible way to go. Then they explained that my worry was completely insane, and why would I ever even think that. That’s a very good question. Why WOULD I?
Maybe a human gasp isn’t strong enough to drag a balloon all the way down your throat. Maybe the odds of the balloon piece flying directly into my open mouth are unbelievably minuscule. But maybe it could happen?? I don’t want to take that chance. Sadly I can’t say that my fear has been eradicated by the scoffing of my friends, but I can say that I have had many years of not enjoying the company of balloons, and even water balloon fights had an added layer of dread for me. This irrational fear is staying right in place.
They say “whatever happens in Vegas stays in Vegas,” but we don’t believe that at the Sneer Campaign! Maybe it is because we love to share our exciting antics with the whole world, or maybe it is because we have a severe lack of content for this week — it doesn’t matter! What matters is that what you see before you on this page is a hastily slapped together bunch of pictures we happened to take with other Sneerists and assorted friends and family. Imagine that this is basically like when your older relatives come back from vacation and have too many reels of slides for you to sit and look through on the projection screen. Also, imagine that the year is currently 1963.
Look kids, Vegas Vic! Whaddya know, it’s the Bellagio Fountains still! Again! So, we decided to sneer in an extended vacation episode, like any good sitcom in its second season.
(You can read the first installment of Diary of an Ant Farm here.)
Day 11: It turns out they were all just hiding. What a pleas-ant surprise.
Day 12: The ants start freaking out again. Inaudible screams, frantic running, the whole shebang. We may have been breathing on them a little. Sorry, ants. They calm down after a while and go back to digging.
Day 1: We have received the ant farm and have filled it with the accompanying perlite. The harvester ants are coming from California, and will arrive on Day 2, by mail. About 30 ants should arrive, hopefully with their life and limbs intact, according to the documentation provided.
Day 2: The ants are here. 20 dead. The rest, about 25 alive, look visibly upset. Since they left their travel tube they have been cleaning the stink of the dead off of themselves. They also appear hungry and thirsty. We give them some walnut crumbs and they go to town. They drink up some water out of a wet cotton ball. Satiated, some rest and some start to dig.