Bodies: We all have them. But what do we KNOW about them? Science suggests that maybe we should know more, whereas religion demands that we know far less. We always side with science here on the sneer campaign, unless it challenges our strict moral codes (haha we don’t have moral codes. C’mon). So clasp our hand parts as we drag you down the twisted, prickly path of learnin’ and we will explain to you the things that school should have covered a long, long time ago. Or, perhaps more accurately, I will expose my horrific ignorance as I tell you about things I never thought about before that it turns out everyone has indeed known since middle school.

huh?

 

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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.

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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

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We have a brand new cat at Sneer HQ — one that we don’t have to feed! Daryl Takahashi is a cat who has been made famous by Hiromu Takahashi, Japanese Wrestling Superstar. He was sent to our home by our friend Zach, who knows what we like and knows how to give good gifts.

So he has moved in and made himself at home like the feline of confidence that he is. Mostly, he lives upstairs on the second floor, but he gets around from time to time. It was inevitable that Daryl would have to face off against each cat already living here, for that is the nature of cats. One must reign supreme in order for there to be peace in the house.

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whooo

I am no stranger to erratic sleep patterns and poor sleep habits. Insomnia is my one true god, whether I want it to be or not. And it is a pesky god, sometimes giving me tastes of rest followed by days, weeks of only falling asleep because I am physically exhausted. It isn’t sleeping as much as losing consciousness, and then not even rejuvenating because I typically have wildly vivid dreams.

I’m a little better than I used to be — there’s your happy news. I more or less have a sleep routine, even though I still sometimes only get three hours or even none at all on rare occasions. But back when I had this moment that I shared with Kieron, and that I now share with you, it was a fairly standard sort of interaction between me and friends. Overthinking and nonthinking, accidental words, confusion and bafflement for all involved; it was a real thrillride. And you can see why I am such a popular conversationalist!

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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.

 

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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.

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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.

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Sorry about bringing up clowns again, so soon, and outside of Halloween Season, and it’s not like I even love clowns all that much! And I’m not even saying that I am obsessed with them, but even so — obsessions don’t understand your notions of there being appropriate times or places. In fact, an obsession wouldn’t comprehend the word “inappropriate” at all, or “creepy” for that matter. And neither do I!

 

 

Anyway, I saw this beautiful gif the other day, while I was living on the internet as I do, and I became mesmerized with a thought. Mr. Rogers was a good man, a saint, and is very definitely a saint in our Sneerholic pantheon. He represents all that can be good in the world and is without blame. You know how we feel about him. On the other hand, clowns are commonly known to be evil, I guess, in these modern times. They are frightening and often up to no good. ALLEGEDLY. There are plenty of kind clowns out there, clowning for the sick and in parades, but every single one of us suspects their motives. Each of us wonders what possibly-literal skeletons are in the closets of their murderhouses. Thanks, John Wayne Gacy!

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