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.

life

 

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Have you ever woken up from sleeping and found that you have fresh memories of just doing something, somewhere that is not in your pajamas in bed? Have you felt insane because of these “false memories”? Well don’t feel insane, because what you have experienced is a very common thing called “dreaming.” Everyone does it! Even dogs and cats.

Dreams use a part of your brain called the Imagination Zone. When this zone is activated, imagination glands crank out a slime that gives you creative thoughts. Sometimes, it is used when you are awake, in order to imagine solutions, or to predict possible consequences. The Imagination Zone is the bustling factory that allows you, after enough practice, to imagine absurd scenarios that are very impossible, but generally fun.

ok yes

When you sleep, it is not really a little death. Your body still lives without you wakefully monitoring it, and this includes the zone mentioned in the last paragraph. While you sleep, it still produces thoughts and visions. Although without your conscious mind cautioning it for being too zany, it will go off the rails and sometimes even throw house parties even though it is a factory setting. But a factory location can be the best place to host a party, didn’t you know?

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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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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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have it

Allegedly, engaging in word games, brainteasers, and various types of puzzles is a healthy activity.We love health! We love activity! It keeps your mind sharp. It staves off senility. And, most importantly, it is a nifty little diversion from all of life’s many little stresses. Some people hate crosswords, be they standard or cryptic. Other people love them! Personally, I don’t really like word searches, but I sure made one for you to do!

In fact, I decided to be a big shot today and make a fun activities page for your pleasure and benefit, because I’m nice like that. Print these out, copy them into a drawing program and do them there, do them silently, all in only your mind — whatever suits your fancy. Just have some semblance of fun and I will feel satisfied.

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The other day I went down to my basement for some hot Duck Hunt action. As usual, the NES just blinked and wouldn’t let me play, like it does every time since that beautiful day it created a small carpet fire from being on for two days straight. But I really didn’t want to make the trip upstairs again, so I looked for something nearby to occupy my attention for an hour or so. After a few moments of looking around, some boxes caught my eye. Hurrah! Nothing says “fun” like random old boxes! But as I came closer, I realized that these were no ordinary spider-infested cardboard boxes. No, to my shock, these were a bunch of old board games. I figured these would require special attention, so I found the nearest rickety chair and pulled out the bottom game from the dangerous, towering stack to see what awaited me.

whoopsidoodles

When I regained consciousness, lying in a pile of little coloured houses and paper money, I found that I had stumbled on several of my very favourite board games that I owned when I was a child. I looked at them and wondered why I had ever stopped playing these cherished games of mine that I had grown so attached to before my parents gave in and bought me a Nintendo. The other kids may have mocked and ridiculed me, but the fun I had with these board games were more than enough to drown out their hurtful words. Well, most of them anyway. Looking them over, my brain filled with memories and I immediately starting playing every game I could find until I became tired and jaded — even MORE than I normally am!

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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.

all opinions here

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.

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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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Gather ’round, children, and I will tell you a tale. Way back in the year 2004, I thought it would be a great idea to fall off a shelf that was about fifteen feet off the ground and land directly on my ass. I immediately felt the effects of my little incident, because it seemed that I had broken every part of my ass ten times over, and thrown it in a wood-chipper for good measure. I was pretty sure most of my tail bone was located in my neck. For those of you unable to understand just what happened, here’s a quick diagram of what it felt like:

ouchie

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