Get to your nearest chair and proceed to sit so hard that you accordion your spine in on itself, because that’s what it’s probably gonna take to keep your pants from flying off after you learn that it’s fall festival season again! That’s right, it’s everyone’s favorite time to herd into the smallest towns imaginable by the thousands and then proceed to rip it to shreds like some sort of cursed locust-people. All while buying up every single shitty piece of local art they can find, along with shoving their faces full of food so unhealthy that it should qualify as body torture. Get hype, son!
Now you may be saying to yourself, “But Jeremy, you already wrote an extensive, boring article on fall festivals years ago! In fact, Amandoll just re-posted it a few days ago! It’s right here! Why even bring this up again? Who really gives a shit?” Well, I definitely can’t argue with that last point, but I can confirm that I did write that article well over two decades ago, back when it was all the rage with my family to drag us around the state and partake in whatever festival they could find each weekend during the fall season. And believe it or not, it was something I actually enjoyed. But over the years since then I really haven’t been to many at all, and since I now have way too much free time and literally no friends whatsoever, I figure it’s high time that I return to those cursed festivals to see what I’ve been missing, and also add a few things that I sort of glossed over in the first article. So please, dear reader, take a trip with me to Greenfield, Indiana, for their “Riley Days” festival. Let’s see together just how bored you truly have to be to do shit like this.
It is already well documented that I am pretty much a giant fucking loser. And because of this, I seem to enjoy doing things that make most people laugh at me. We’ve already covered this in previous articles about yard sales, and virtually everything else I’ve written on this site. So it’s of no surprise when I say that I happen to enjoy going to fall festivals. After all, fall is my favorite time of the year, and it seems to be the only time when I can go out of the house and not be hospitalized from extreme sun exposure, or be treated for frostbite.
Fall has very mild weather that is perfect for the pasty nerd who is afraid to step outside in the heat for more than two minutes, in fear that they would instantly be blinded by natural sunlight and have their skin catch fire. But once we get outside, we usually find that there is little that we know how to do without a computer mouse in our hands. And even if we bring the computer mouse with us, it just doesn’t seem to have the same effect by clicking on things in the real world as it does on our computer. So to combat this strange new world of revulsion, we must find something else to do. Not only do we need to find somewhere that is generally low key and devoid of excitement that might lead to bodily harm, but also somewhere where we can buy incredibly useless crap for large sums of money. The only real answer that meets these criteria, is of course one of the millions of festivals that are being held during the fall. That’s right. Today we’re going to show you just how to navigate your way through a fall festival.
We are all of us adults here on this site, writers and readers, well-wishers and detractors. This naturally means that we are all well-acquainted with that sluggish beast known as Procrastination. Society views Procrastination as a blight, a rotten spot on anyone’s character. Procrastination is a heavy shame and people want it stamped out. But this is a new day, a new era. Like other old prejudices, the irrational hatred for slacking around still lurks around, but we can’t really be surprised by it. I mean, after all, old-fashioned race-ism still lingers around and that malarkey is so outdated, I mean really.
But I am here to explain how all the haters are hating a painful misconception! AS USUAL.
That’s right. Anyone can make procrastination WORK. You can still be productive while procrastinating, you just need to open your mind and get over the fact that you might not be succeeding in producing the finished product you might have NEEDED to finish. But I think maybe we should reconsider this current lifestyle of “deadlines” and “you have to complete this specific thing I paid you to complete.” It’s all so narrow-minded, and I can’t support that foolish mindset. This is not an article about what I do and do not support though. Oh wait, yes it is. Because:
I Support Making Procrastination Work for YOU
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.
The news of a pregnancy is a blessing to a young couple; their love is made real. It will soon be solid living screaming pooping flesh that will occasionally fall asleep sometime. What a blissful time of life, when two loving people come together, give up the last traces of their youth, and become a family of three. Gone are the hollow, unsatisfying nights full of peace and quiet. The freedom to come and go as one pleases are in the past, replaced by the comforting shackles of never being able to shirk certain kinds of responsibility ever again. Say goodbye to old friends, you won’t need them anymore. You won’t ever find time for them again anyway. With a new baby comes a new, better life, and certainty of a kind of “immortality” as your DNA is passed along to another generation. Announcements must be made, plans put into motion before the Big Day arrives and the Stork comes along to bestow upon you the new focal point of your daily existence.
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.
Jesus fuck it’s summer already. Well it feels like it has been summer since March, and I’m not entirely sure that there should be a single date declaring that it is indeed Summer. I simply go by the tried and true method of knowing when it gets too hot to function normally, then it’s summer. I don’t care if it’s the middle of December, if the temperature gets high enough to make me lie on the ground and give up on life, then it’s fucking summer. This is where we’re at now, and I damn well barely made it from my car to my front door yesterday before I accepted my fate and just let the sun finish destroying my will to live, which basically means it’s time to never go outside again until Winter blows in around next February.
As you can tell, I’m not a big fan of summer, though I must admit that I do despise winter a tad bit more, just for the fact that I can walk around outside in my boxers in summertime without a hint of officers threatening to take me down. I suppose that works both ways though, as the rest of the city has no problem doing so as well, along with the random assault of naked babies in grocery stores. It’s just not very appetizing to be getting my three month supply of Ramen noodles, only to see naked baby wang come flying around the corner. You also have the thousands of people who have no air conditioning, thus spending every waking moment of the Summer sitting outside, listening to country music, and hollering.
Before actually working at a party supply store, I was unaware that there are party supplies for EVERYTHING. I had previously been under the notion that people weren’t so stupid that they would need to run out and buy a giant bull skull to complete the look of their “Tex-Mex party,” which would just end up looking like a regular party except with a giant shitty foam bull skull hanging on the wall.
While perusing the mind-numbing amount of overpriced shit for parties, I wandered upon a section, nay, an entire AISLE, just for celebrating old people’s birthdays and such. Well, let me rephrase that since it’s not entirely the truth: An entire aisle just for mocking old people’s further decline into a miserable old age and eventually to a depressing death that will most likely be filled with memories of the time their children bought them a fake jar of Viagra for their 60th birthday.
Some would call them “gag” gifts, and I suppose they are. Only I have never seen so many, and some so completely brutal, in one area before — all for simply being old. It’s as if to say “Congratulations on living for 3/4 of a century and accomplishing more than most of us ever will, now put this chicken suit on and DANCE YOU OLD SHIT.”
Brutal fact of life: Gaming will never, ever be as cool as it was in the late 80s/early 90s. Why? Several factors contribute to it: 80s/90s hairstyles, general inability to see how much we would laugh at ourselves in the future, etc. But the biggest thing that made the time so awesome was that it was all so new. Sure, games had been around for over a decade at that point. But after the video game crash in ’84, the future of gaming was mostly relegated to being bulletpoint features on shitty home computers from Radioshack. Then came the NES, and everything exploded. Gaming, as it turned out, was the real deal. And it wasn’t going anywhere. Suddenly the entire subculture of video games went mainstream, and few people were ready for it — especially the people that quickly saw they could make a boatload of money from them.
Magazines based solely on games literally sprung up over night. The two most prominent being Electronic Gaming Monthly, and Gamepro. Immediately out of the gate, Gamepro seemed to be the far more “color by the numbers” magazine created by people who had no clue what to do with a game magazine, and were just throwing stuff together in a way they thought would look cool to kids. Featuring blindingly bright layouts (I still can only see in shades of neon pink thanks to Gamepro), giant cartoony art, and a general mishmash of coverage more suited for an ADHD-addled chimp.
Gamepro quickly garnered a reputation as being that one kid who would always scream for attention on the playground, but no one would ever come close to him for fear that he would never leave you alone again. That didn’t stop Gamepro from making money though, since this was a time when you could put out anything game-related and kids would choke it down as fast as possible. Gamepro quickly saw that their aberration of a magazine was making gobs of money, so decided to take the next logical step and made a TV show.
Habbo Hotel has been around since practically the beginning of the internet as we know it. Several of us have been held in its thrall, and maybe still go back to it from time to time. Maybe we are going to it today, in the present year of 2017. At any rate, it seems like a good idea to get the boot in the door and write a first article introducing our readers to the concept, as though you don’t all secretly keep accounts there, yourselves. I have been discussing it with everyone’s favorite Southern Man, Mr. Billy Holiday (my frequent cohort at the hotel a few years ago and actually he might have been on there far more than I actually was). We have realized that there were so many happenings over so many years that there are a few articles within us about this place, this should-be-totally-defunct place. But what is it?