Picture it, you’ve just moved into a beautiful new home in a safe and happy neighborhood with manicured lawns. You’ve unpacked all your essentials, changed your address, and turned on your utilities… now it’s time to make an impression. A big one. You want your new neighbors to know how charming, intelligent, and definitely innocent you are.
We’ve gathered a few ways that you can really make a name for yourself in your new town, while only raising a little bit of suspicion, instead of a lot. Say hello to your new neighbors in a way that violently screams, “I LIVE VERY CLOSE TO YOU NOW.” It’s a lot of work, but so is the social contract of a suburban neighborhood.
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.
Christians are all around us in many forms. Some of them are very self-righteous and will not rest until we heathens are converted. Others are peaceful and kind and sort of like really clean hippies who make brownies and baked goods which are found to be “special” only in the way that they have been baked with Good Christian Love. No, that still is not an herbal kind of love, but believe me, there are those kinds of Christians, too. Christians who won’t let their women dance or wear trousers, Christians who love everyone equally, Christians who hate the gays and the immigrants and those minorities, Christians in politics, Branson, Missouri, bad Christian films. In fact, there are as many kinds of Christians as there are different kinds of personality on earth! Well, all except one. You see, there are just not any creative Christians, apparently. At all.
In their zeal to forward the good message of Jesus Christ, it seems that Christians completely give up their potential for imaginative thoughts. The more cynical of us would say that that is the primary function of religion, to erase creativity because creative thinking would possibly lead to the kind of thinking that makes the thinker think that what they are dedicating their lives to, this blind faith, might be a little stupid. And thinking like that WILL NOT BE TOLERATED.
Time for another old real life on the internet conversation comic! This time it is starring that always-delightful Kevin friend of mine. Kevin “KayFlay” Flasch-in-the-Pan. He’s definitely the star here, as you see that I am caught swirling after him, helpless in the wake of his caprices — merely a supporting character. A target.
Kevin is a very good friend of mine, and maybe some day he will write for us. In the meantime he can occasionally generate content in the forum of conversations with me where he basically mentally and emotionally abuses me because that is apparently a hobby of his. He is the sassiest person. This is what friendship looks like to me and is it any wonder that I don’t form close bonds with people??
You probably won’t need to click to see things bigger for this comic, but you can if you want to. I believe in providing you with options.
When two friends hold a casual conversation, sometimes it turns into an unexpected confession. Sometimes, it is revealed that one or both of the conversationalists are terrible people, on the inside. In this real life chat that really did happen, cchris seems like he is maybe worried, or at least taking mental notes for some purpose or another, but I’m sure I was just saying what he had already thought for himself before. I’m CERTAIN.
Please, enjoy this comic. And please, don’t run away from me.
Too often I find myself searching for a cult to join and finding only religious ones, or creepy death cults, or what could turn out to be a highly illegal sex cult. Much like shopping for trouser-pants, it’s so hard to find a perfect fit! But what is a cult? Why, it’s anything you want it to be, baybee, and therein lies the appeal.
You hear about cults a lot in the news, from time to time, and it’s everyone’s dream to be on the front page at some point. Stop waiting for Fate to strike, and instead take Destiny into your own hands. Attract people to you, make them chant and obey you, dress them however you like, and pick a snazzy name. It’s as easy as that! Enjoy the thrills of having a mass of people flock to you and believe you to be the answer to all of life’s troubles. Who needs a significant other when you can have a modest assemblage of worshipers?
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.
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 love describing my dynamic with cchris to anyone who has a moment to listen, because I never have been able to understand it. I even mention it on here as much as I can, partly because it’s part of my character makeup, and partly because I really am that bewildered by it. Over the years, things have shifted and changed. When I realized that he is very mysterious, my imagination occasionally will step in and try to figure out WHY. Who is so good at not giving out personal facts? For this many years? Is it villainy? Is it because there’s nothing there? Is it to appear more interesting? What is there to hide, and if there is nothing to hide — WHY.
The irrational fear depicted in the comic has OMGJeremy to blame. Apparently he thinks that cchris and I write similarly, and maybe it is HIS irrational fear that I am pretending to be this whole other person. When he first told me of this, I did have a little while where I might have been horrified and fearful at the possibility. That would be world-shattering to realize. But I guess I don’t fear it, exactly. If it turns out it’s all been in my head, that’s almost impressive. I could live with it. I could live with having made a little Canadian Tulpa. That’s fine. Whatever. I would just like to know for sure before I die of old age.
As previously mentioned in The Habbo Diaries parts one and two, some of us were recruited into the workforce, for various places, with, well… pretty similar positions. None of us received any wages, in-game or otherwise. Nor did we receive any furni for our time. But we worked. We worked hard.
The purpose of the Habbo workforce eluded me; it was not affiliated with Official Habbo. They were run by people, kids I assume? I also never understood how they were funded. They had dozens of rooms with what must have been hundreds or thousands of dollars worth of furni. I didn’t get it and I didn’t get to the bottom of it. But we tried our darnedest, by spreading out our jobs and expertise throughout the Habboverse.
I have been drowning myself in video games, lately. This is quite unusual as I generally try to avoid them. Modern video games tend to nauseate me with the way they move; even the good ones will give me a mild headache. I am having a mild headache right now, actually. I am on a break from this one game I found in my friends’ old stack of games. It is called “Fable.” I am playing it miserably, and am not good at quests and keeping track of what the plot even is. But I enjoy the ways you can interact with the other people. I started out being very Good, and people would cheer for me as I walked along. But then, my good pal Brian influenced me in terrible ways.