People seem to love taking naps, my sister swears by them. But for me it’s generally unplanned and will ruin much of the rest of my day, timing-wise. We call these “napcidents.” Yes they happen with enough frequency that they have a name. If I’m napping, something is already wrong or about to be.
Some people might say that part of the reason for these unplanned sleeps is that I do most of my living from on top of my bed. Reading books, chatting to friends online, reading articles online, chatting to customers for work — almost every time, I am sitting on the same surface that I use for bedtime sleeping. Also, usually, my TV computer is playing the same shows that I sleep to. I don’t hold much hope that I will find a better way to live than “from bed” but I suppose anything could be possible.
We all think drugs is pretty cool in society these days. From rappers to white people on the internet, it seems like everyone has something to say about the cool new drugs and how to take them. But I’m here to tell you drugs ISN’T cool. And here’s why!
We all know that I’m no luckier in love than I am in cards. Without realizing at first, I’ve dated abusive men, racists, actual monsters. No less than three of my boyfriends have read my conversations with Amandoll. Two have punched furniture inches away from me. One punched me.
But none of that is very funny, and this post isn’t about my traumatic experiences with men who later stalk me. This post is about a more important thing: red flags in dating. I’ve compiled a list of urgent details to consider when considering that special someone.
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.
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.
Our posts are late because since she arrived back from Australia, Dollissa has been in a crumpled heap somewhere on the East Coast. She has not made it back to HQ, but we found this journal in her drafts.
Hour 1: The plane is full. Planes usually are. The first flight is scheduled to be 15 hours. I take a deep breath, buckle my seat belt as shown in the probably unnecessary demonstration of how to buckle your seat belt, and settle in. I mean not really, there’s no room to settle.
Hour 2: We were already given drinks. I’m afraid to drink it because I’ll have to use the bathroom, but I do anyway so that I don’t die of dehydration. It’s water.
Hour 3: I’ve been scolded twice for trying to use my phone on the plane. Apparently it’s a Chinese rule that you can’t use mobile devices on an aircraft, which is contrary to any flight I’ve ever been on. Goodbye, Spotify.
Hour 4: My notebook isn’t writing in itself, so I put it in my lap with the pen. It’s time to try to nod off angrily, but I can’t sleep unless my head is slammed into something and my hands are in little fists. I eat a minuscule airplane meal and try again.
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.
It is a statement of fact when I announce to the world here that dogs 100% love Halloween because they are animals that enjoy being dressed up in ridiculous costumes. Our four-legged friends excitedly wag their tails when they see their human companions lunge toward them with doggy-sized clothes. They yip in ecstatic delight and dance their paws in place when they see fabrics sewn to fit their quadruped shapes that then showcase these proud little companions to be some sort of dog-related pun, or the star of some television show that the dog does not appreciate OR even watch at all! Dogs love being made into laughingstocks, there only as spectacles for human snickering – the tune of which either sounds misguided, derisive, or full of pity (dogs can tell the difference). I mean, even going to a costume site will display for you, one after the other, the expressions of pure canine joy as they pose for the camera in yet another adorable, cutie-wootie, charming little outfit.
Oh wait, what am I talking about? Dogs obviously hate being dressed in anything like clothing and endure it only because they think they are being punished and will do anything to get back into your good graces. These friends of humankind are long-suffering little heroes, designed to help people and be true pals. People, of course, are mostly undeserving of such unconditional love, and throughout history have beaten the dogs, and submitted them to every form of cruelty, interspersed with occasional treats, food, and shelter. OCCASIONALLY. You could say that dogs have had it a lot better lately (ignoring all of the cruelty they are still subjected to at the hands of modern-day monsters, as seen daily via viral videos designed to make us weep), but then… then we notice an increase of popularity of Costumes for Dogs.
A fondness or craving for sweets is the definition of “sweet tooth,” according to the internet, with help from Google.
Many times in my young life, I have heard people excuse their penchant for sugary treats by referring to the fact that they possess such a “tooth.” I have news for everyone. It’s not a good excuse. Pedophiles aren’t excused from child-touchery because they are fond of it, nor should people be excused of their sticky, disgusting habit out of fondness for sugar.
Welcome back to our monthly comic series, Doofus and Darling. If you had Highlights for Children magazine when you were young, you’ve seen Goofus and Gallant. If not, it probably doesn’t matter anyway.