It surprises no one, I’m sure, to discover that my secret hidden talent and life path dream is to become the slogan generator of a tourism board somewhere — anywhere! My old pal Esther came to me one day, long ago, with news coming from that harrowing icy land that is so very, very far away. It was a genius effort on their part to generate interest, I’m sure. And that’s all! So I decided to help, too. Then I decided to REALLY help by making it a comic that other people might actually see. I’m sure I didn’t need to convince Esther all that much, after all.
Click on the comic below if you want to see the adorable detail or whatever. And Siberia, you can thank me later for the good I have done here.
Your friend has hit a rough spot and, for whatever reason, you have stepped up to aid them in their time of need. When you invite a friend to stay in your home until their lives stabilize, until they stop weeping at night, until they get a job — ANY job — and find a place of their own to live, you may not realize exactly what you are about to do. You may think to yourself, “This man or woman has been my friend for X number of years, I feel fondness for them and would like to give them sanctuary from their troubles. After all, were I in their place, I would hope that I had a good person to help me out.” But you fail to acknowledge that this person will be using your furniture, your bathroom, your cooking utensils. They will be all over your living space. They will probably even look in your bedroom when everyone else is out working.
Basically you’ve gone above and beyond the call of friendship. You may think that because you are being so kind as to do all of this, what with the inconveniencing your life to an extent and shaking up your day-to-day, your friend would be more than happy to do the one or two things you ask of them. No sir.
You see, when you invite a friend to live with you, something happens to them. They change into a monster. Many of you have seen this happen with real room mates, but the complexities of the Room Mate is a topic for another article on another day. Friends who are staying with you as guests do not have to pay rent, or bills. They often feel like real guests, although they start out as overly grateful ones.
Camping sucks. Why does anyone do it! Every year, we are all asked to go camping as though our personalities have changed to loving the outdoors suddenly. And no matter how much you are sure you hate camping and don’t want to do it, eventually you break down and say okay, in case THIS time it will be fun for the first time ever.
And it is fun — in theory. However, when you get there it is full of bugs and people want you to do things with them and also there’s no shower. The rest is fun though! The sleeping and eating and some of the seeing your friends is fun. Maybe hiking is part of camping, and that’s fun, but really hiking is its own thing, so whatever. Anyway here’s the foolproof Sneer guide to trying your best not to want to die while being forced to camp.
Get a haircut, ya dang hippie! Really though. Hair keeps growing every single day and it doesn’t even stop after you’re dead, according to popular trivia that might or might not be true. While Amandoll keeps her hair short because she can’t stand the touch of loose hair on her neck, I sometimes can go months, years without bothering. I’m not growing it out for a wig or anything, I just have better things to do.
Every once in a while, however, I reach a point where it’s just gotta go. Or I suddenly have hair motivation and am able to get to a pair of scissors before it fades away again and I become distracted by all of the more interesting things in life, which is apparently almost everything else. I’m even writing this article instead of getting the haircut that I need! Oh well!
Any time a new animal friend enters my life, I find myself considering what name would suit it. I don’t mean that I take fifteen minutes before settling on the forever-name. I mean I draw up charts and make lists and say each word hundreds of times. I consult numerology and tea leaves and the phases of the moon. I read baby name books and dictionaries and look at the shapes of clouds hoping that one will inspire me suitably.
Perhaps many of you think I am going overboard when it comes to this sort of thing, but I used to stress over naming my Sims, too, so this is how seriously I take names! A pet will live out its entire lifespan (which it will obviously be spending entirely with you, responsible pet owner), so the name is crucial. You will be saying this word repeatedly, and eventually, engraving it on a little stone monument to mark its place in a pet cemetery. It’s the most important thing to this animal, after food, water, shelter, and pettings.
I like my comedy scripted and rehearsed please. Improvisation is best left for jazz, freestyle rap, and Twitter.
There are aspects of the human condition which baffle me. I mean, I have most of it all figured out, of course, but I admit some things make no sense to me. And there are things going on in our societies that seem like they are poorly thought out, and maybe even ill-advised. What is everyone thinking!
Most of us can agree that there are big things that are wrong. Big wrong things that nevertheless a lot of people partake in, such as racism, homophobia, murder, and so on. I will not speak further on those. I am here today to talk about the little things that aren’t hurting anyone but me and my brain. What are you people doing? Why!
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.
You find yourself in a maze filled with edible orbs, and you are not alone. Monsters lurk in this place, is it a dungeon? Is it a castle? Is it a level of HELL? You must run from these evil things — oh! You catch a glimpse! They’re g-g-ghosts! Vengeful, doomed spirits chase you, wishing to devour your soul. So you run. You dodge them by darting into unused corridors! Oh god but there are more! Mindlessly being forced to eat orbs as you run in terror, you stumble upon one that causes the ghosts to flee from YOU. Ha ha! Who’s chasing whom NOW, you fiends?! You gobble them up for a few seconds, not nearly enough seconds. Then their fear is over. You didn’t kill any of them. You do not kill ghosts. The chase is on again, and again, and again until you somehow eat all of the orbs. Then it all starts over.
No, I didn’t write out an entry from my Terrible Dreams journal. I just described the basic plot of Pac Man, an early video game from the otherwise glorious 1980s. It was released on this date in 1980, and I was never the same again.