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.
First came the tentacle rape.
It was the beginning in a long line of horrors that OMGJeremy has subjected me to in his articles since the very beginning in 2002. (OMGJeremy.com was the site that most of us used to write for.) But you know what they say: what doesn’t kill you can only make you stronger. Well, I must be invincible by now. And not only have I seen a lot, but I’ve written about a lot too, articles that have been lost to time mostly, including a review of a site that teaches women how to rape their husbands. But in 2003, I found something that managed to combine all of those and more. It’s as if all my nightmares Go-Go-Power-Morphed into some unholy Megazord and returned to feed me my own ass.
“What is it?” you’re probably asking as you close the door and open a new browser window. Why It’s none other than Furcadia — an online game that let you take on the role of an animal and interact with others in a series of dream worlds. And not surprisingly in the least, it contains the three big staples of the internet diet: furries, cybersex, and MMORPGs.
We, the writers of Sneer Campaign, are not complete philistines. Occasionally we like to raise our pinky fingers and sip on hot tea while discussing some of the finer things in this world. Sometimes we cover matters of history, other times we may speak at length about books we have read, or scientific breakthroughs that had been brought to our attention somehow. Other days, we sit around analyzing classic artworks — but never modern art because we are not sophisticated enough to “get” it!
Today, we decided to take a look at the Last Supper, by some kid named Leonardo da Vinci. He had his day back in the 1400s, but do not let that frighten you. Those days were not so different than these days we are in now. So take our hands, readers, and appreciate the history of art, religious beliefs, flippant artistic subterfuge, and yes even a little Last Supper Day Miracle!
This series will explore some of the works in our store, Sneer1Imports. We wanted to tell the stories behind the designs and illustrations. Some have long histories, some were funny suggestions, and others were favors. Please join us on a journey of love, sneers, pens, and art!
This design is great as a card or spiral notebook and as one amazing customer has shown us, apparently is just the most perfect onesie available for babies. We love you, customer. We also happen to think it’s a cute tote bag, if you want to be more chill about it.
There are many kinds of mysteries in this confusing, mixed up world. We often find ourselves trapped in darkness, trying to solve a murder case, maybe, or seeking to understand what on the surface appears to be a supernatural phenomenon. Whole civilizations have been lost and we still don’t know why. Statues may weep tears of blood, drawing crowds of thousands of hopeful people, yearning to see a miracle.
Some mysteries are on a much smaller scale, but are no less perplexing and miraculous. Some mysteries appear on your own body! A mystery appeared on mine.
Reigning megastar of the universe, Beyoncé, Queen of the World, fluttered into the Sneer Art Studio today in order to be drawn in her natural form today. While effortlessly shifting from one pristine, awe-inspiring pose to another, she casually spoke a monologue stream of opinions about the state of the cosmos, her family, and most importantly: her image. It is our pleasure to announce to you that she resents being likened to a Queen Bee and that her fans are part of a “Bey Hive,” for really, as you can see, she is a long-legged owl who dances across the sky by night.
All of this could have been avoided. This entire article wouldn’t have even been necessary if my parents had followed a fairly logical rule. As a parent myself, I know this rule inside and out. If you have kids, you know it too. But for those of you without children, I am about to drop a real gem on you. A piece of advice that will make your parenting days a lot easier and lessen the chances of your home experiencing a murder/suicide. You ready? Okay.
Don’t tell a child that they can’t see/do something because it is “for adults.”
There you go. I just saved you a lot of yelling and a handful of awkward visits from Child Services. Now don’t go thinking I’m one of those people who doesn’t believe in telling a kid they can’t have something or do something. I’m not saying that you should let a child get away with whatever. By all means, tell them “no” when you want them to keep their snot and dirt-encrusted hands off of something. When they ask you why, just don’t make the mistake of telling them it is for “big folks,” “adults,” “mommy and daddy,” or whatever other stupid shit you say instead of just looking them in the eye and saying, “Shut the fuck up.”
A good solid “shut the fuck up” from my folks sure would have saved me a whole lot of grief.
Santa Claus knows how to live. He has a wonderfully cozy home in the Land of Igloos, unlimited cookie access, and Mrs. Claus makes him a Christmas Dinner almost every night. He doesn’t have to do anything that exerts him physically because he has a legion of well-paid elves to do his bidding. Unfortunately, this rich lifestyle can lead to health problems.
Santa is becoming a little “jollier than usual” if you catch my drift.
There have been a lot of movie cowboys who have had famous star horses as their mounts: Hopalong Cassidy and Topper, the Lone Ranger and Silver, Gene Autry and Champion the Wonder Horse; but none were as famous as Roy Rogers and his Palomino steed, Trigger. Or really, I should say “Trigger and his hanger-on, Roy Rogers the singing cowboy.”
Trigger was a wonderful horse, a marvel. And he was so famous that he even starred in a comic book series! He could walk on his hind legs, sign his name with an “X”, cover himself with a blanket, had a very good rhythm as a dancer, and apparently, he was even house-trained. He had so many tricks memorized that they ran out of ways to teach him prompts for new ones (that amount, for those of you who are curious, is 150 tricks). He was a professional actor and like any superstar, would perk up as soon as he saw cameras or crowds. Trigger was not a diva, though, and was reportedly as sweet as sugar to almost everyone.
However, in my idle moments of reading about this equine, I discovered several shocking facts!
There’s plenty of fish in the sea, they say. You know what else the sea has a lot of? Plastic. Sharks. Pirates. Dead Bodies.
My problem, of course, is not with the analogy, but with the fact that life is hard and I hate trying.