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. 

boohoo

I am sure that this is an irrational fear that everyone gets who has difficulty sleeping for a few days. But once you read up on this specific disease, you will REALLY get this fear, even though it is definitely very irrational. Very few people will ever get this brain disease, Fatal Familial Insomnia, and very few people have ever even had it. However, all of this is thrown out the window as soon as Wikipedia uses the words “can also develop spontaneously in patients with a non-inherited mutation variant.” What? Oh no!

Sporadic Fatal Insomnia is something none of us will probably ever have, but if we find ourselves struggling with insomnia, remember that it would set in as we near middle age. Have you been so tired that you get anxiety attacks and hallucinations? I sure have, and those are two things that happen in the early stages of this deadly, horrible disease. However, I thankfully usually konk out after a while, instead of trudging on in this manner, going slowly insane until the big sleep anywhere between seven to eighteen months later, when an exhausted ghost version of myself would escape this tired husk of mine and then find that there is actually no resting in peace after all. Noooo.

When my logical mind steps in to again remind me that I probably haven’t developed this, my paranoid insomnia mind counters with another irrational fear, which is that I have developed a brand new sleepless brain disease that will be named after me after I have died of it and have been studied by science.

Back when I used to run my old site, one of the strangest results was that I would be personally contacted with requests to review someone’s product. It was shilling for people in exchange for a sample of whatever they were wishing to sell. Back in 2005 or so, one of the most memorable products I was asked to talk up was from Frivolous Entertainment (which I am somewhat surprised to see still exists) to review their DVD party game entitled “Intense Games DVD.”

defunct

It was one of those games that you might see in your local adult gift store in which you would find various juvenile challenges to play with your drunken college friends some night. Things like “do a blowjob on a cucumber” or “take a dump on the hood of someone’s car,” etc — wholesome games that any frat boy or sorority girl would enjoy playing after downing dangerous amounts of liquor. This game however, took things much, much further than what you may be used to seeing in your typical party game. And yes, I know it seems pointless to update a review of something that is over a decade old and I probably own the only remaining copy of. Welcome to my life.

Continue reading

 

Once upon a time, I would hang out in a cafe in Michigan where I could obtain a constant flow of free beverages. I would stay there for several hours, if the day allowed. While this put a major hurting on their supply of lemonade, it opened up several horrifying experiences for me. Whether it was the day that I counted seventeen teenagers/old women (dressing hip in the hopes that someone wouldn’t realize they are eighty) wearing those fucking fur boots, or the time an overweight mentally handicapped individual was a mere foot away from my face and “dancing” to whatever shitty song was playing, I have seen some times at that store. Most of the people I have encountered are nothing short of insane, such as the lady who insisted that I keep living in Michigan because one day it will be “the only state that has water.”

Some were pretty cool though, like a fellow I talked to on a few occasions. Even though he told me a lot about his childhood, college days, 20’s, 30’s, 40’s, 50’s, and 60’s, I still considered him a stranger. I mean we were never going to go hang out at the bar or sit around the television and pull for whatever Michigan team wasn’t a complete failure (aside from hockey). I’m not completely sure if he viewed me as a stranger too. I’m unsure of this because of a particular conversation we shared. It was that kind of conversation you could never prepare yourself for or really predict you would get into over the course of the day. Some topics just seem like safe topics around strangers in that you know you won’t be discussing them. Someone probably isn’t going to want to talk about religion with a person they don’t know. A man probably isn’t going to start a talk about their family problems with a stranger. Someone isn’t going to just openly discuss their wife and her horrific shitting problems with a total and complete stranger either.

Yes… well two out of three of those topics are still sacred.

suffering

Continue reading

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. 

leave ur beams outta this

Welcome to my irrational fear that makes me so uncomfortable that I have never allowed myself to think about it for very long. I wince when I consider it. Perhaps I should start with a little backstory.

When I was about seven years old, I had a series of night terrors where I would wake everyone in my family up at night because I was screaming horribly. The dream always started the same, with me being within one of five beams of light that appeared to be both moving and still, somewhat eternal or infinite I guess. But I’d be hurtling through space, then veer of towards Earth where I was suddenly me, as a child, in a weird dystopian service station somewhere. Eventually, the dream always ended when some space technology that had been harnessed and not fully understood would go haywire and there’d be repetition that was speeding up exponentially until I woke up FREAKING OUT.

I also hated (and still hate) night time windows being uncurtained because I don’t want things looking in. And also, I don’t like to look up at the night sky in case I see something I can’t explain. These things have bothered me for a really long time and there was one day in my teens that I wondered if I had been abducted, and I immediately stopped thinking about it. But by now, I worry about what if I am actually an alien and that’s why I don’t understand screaming or dancing. And why I see people in buffet lines and feel like I am observing livestock. Have I forgotten who I am and why I’m here? Have I gone totally insane, or am I just really close to it all the time? Halp.

YouTube offers us an endless supply of free entertainment. If you can ignore or avoid the increasingly intrusive ads, it is a great time. Learn to DIY, or cook, or just watch fools doing foolish things, whatever. Or the confusing amount of people meticulously describing things they have purchased. Those are simultaneously relaxing and frustrating. Yoga, music videos, relaxation, hypnosis — I’m just listing things that I think of because I can. It’s all there!

Of course there are plenty of things that shouldn’t be there. Things that should never exist once, let alone in such huge amounts. You know I’m talking about ASMR but does everyone here know what it is? Forgive me for showing you:

omg I hate it.

 

Continue reading

Gather ’round, children, and I will tell you a tale. Way back in the year 2004, I thought it would be a great idea to fall off a shelf that was about fifteen feet off the ground and land directly on my ass. I immediately felt the effects of my little incident, because it seemed that I had broken every part of my ass ten times over, and thrown it in a wood-chipper for good measure. I was pretty sure most of my tail bone was located in my neck. For those of you unable to understand just what happened, here’s a quick diagram of what it felt like:

ouchie

Continue reading

brown chicken brown cow

My friend Jairo and I have a long-running inside joke into which I am about to invite you. We call it The Compilation. Let me give some back story. We are both former employees of a secondhand bookstore that shall remain nameless. Until a few years ago we had to choose “appropriate” music for store play via CDs for sale from our inventory. It was such a pain. Sometimes there was nothing that anybody really wanted to hear, so we would be forced to choose 5 lesser evils.

Sometimes we would be inundated by the Beatles, which in my unpopular opinion is utter torture. A lot of the time we had to listen to Pedo music. In layman’s terms it is called Doo-Wop and Motown. There are so many songs about teenage girls being pursued by adult men. How the hell is this acceptable? That’s fodder for another article. Eventually we got a satellite radio station we could listen to. It really wasn’t much better. It was just ok. One minute we would be hearing the wonderful bagpipes of “Under the Milkyway” by The Church, but then suddenly it would be some yodeling fool. I wish I were kidding.

Continue reading

Somewhat recently, fellow resident of the Sneer House, Lisa, and I took a trip to the Midwestern United States’ Largest Flea Market, which is conveniently located just north of Cincinnati. For those of you unfamiliar with the large scale flea market, let me just describe it as an expansive building filled with booths that are full of an array of garbage that is for sale. Some of the booths actually sell quality items, and you wonder what they are doing there, but mostly it seems to be junk that fell off of the back of a truck and these people scavenged it and put low, low price tags on it — or absurdly high price tags. For those of you who ARE familiar with flea markets, you know that the “bottom” in my title means a butt.

dont be trickedContinue reading

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. 

kaboom

Let me clear something up, immediately. I am not a crazy survivalist type who stores up rations and first aid kits and jugs of water because I believe that there is an impending Dooms Day at hand. I am not afraid that there will be some huge world war, or nuclear holocaust, or what else is there — Armageddon? The Rapture? Whatever. None of that is anything that preoccupies my mind very much.

However, whenever I consider maybe going in for some treatment, as many of my friends and acquaintances do, as many friends actually recommend that I try out, I get a very real fear that if I do so, if I give in and just seek outside help, then the world as we know it will swirl down the drain and we will be living in a nightmarish post-apocalyptic situation where it’s every man for himself and all prescriptions will stop. So all of the medicated people will lose it, either physically or mentally or both. And I am not like “I want to keep my wits sharp!” I’m just like, if I got used to relying on mood stabilizers, I think it would be even more difficult to manage things in that situation. Sorry I can’t restructure society into something that is hopefully better, because my body is dealing with withdrawal and I can only sleep in this hollowed out log with a scrap of a blanket and cry. I mean, I probably will be doing exactly that, but I want it to not be because I am having medical withdrawal symptoms. Those somehow sound scarier and worse than what I’m used to.

I think this concern makes a lot of sense! But I guess in the back of my mind, it does seem slightly dramatic. And maybe like I’m making excuses. But I’d rather not cause end of the world just because I was too tired to go on like I am. Maybe you all should be thanking me!

Hello my sneer friends. Recently I went through an eye-opening and scary time, and I wanted to share some of my experience with you. My hope is that anyone who finds themselves in a similar situation will be prepared if this ever happens to them.

I’d been watching the Gordon Ramsey-led reality television show “Hotel Hell.” The sound of an Englishman yelling at people for keeping a refrigerator full of beetles or for making a placenta mural in the foyer really brings me down and gets me to a place where I’m ready to sleep at night. Sometimes in my dreams Gordon is riding a giant horse, and he trots up to the field where I take my picnics, and he showers me with warm beef wellingtons. The crust hits my cheeks with an audible crunch and I beam with pride at my famous man pastry cow circles.

Then it happened. One night, unable to quite make my way through an episode, I paused the show, to continue later.

aaaa

A startling visage now lay before me – I knew it was human but there was something wrong – a feeling deep in my spine, a tingle in my feet and a sense of dread rolled through me all at once. If this frame of the show really belonged here, what could possibly happen next?

Continue reading