WTF

Morgan:
Cherish not the thought of horribleness, but strangle the fear pillow of dixon 9… where shit scrawled on walls never updates nor shrinks in the face of adverisity! I am green, but I have a blue mask and face it not to the east.

The Shitposting Hermit:
what

Morgan Gavin:
Trust the god of the green, for the Bue is not True, and the Red must end the blood streak of the tenth moon!

King:
whaat???

Morgan Gavin:
for what dream may shit upon the nightmare of others, for does not good strangle the fears of evil while the dreams are infants? Still screaming to the assignments of failed glue sticks? That which dreams not of the elvel ten, that which screams the blood moons of the florf may not Grasp even the strandiest strands of the Golden Strands of psychobabbli! FEAR THE FEAR PILLOW! As it smothers the courage that no not of the courage blanket that covers the fear pillow! thomas the Train is an agent of the Nightmares of police! for what hidden tension lay beneath that smile, so innocent, so benign, for only a psychosis of pikagirl pokeworld! Pika pika pika pika! Tenth level NOOOOOOOT, Noot noot noot, TO THE FUCKING TWITLONGER or was it q? maybe it was seven? Or twelve? Or maybe flower? Potato? It’s potato.

The Shitposting Hermit:
fear pillow… what

Morgan Gavin:
what if pokeballs were secretly waffle irons? HOW DARE YOU GRILL THAT PICHU!

King:
shut your soul

Morgan Gavin:
You shut yours! The tenth moon of the second ring will shut it for you! We scream out at the deliverance of the Fear pillow, we scream and shed the feathers of darkness to embrace our inner Emo Robot!

thy_undying: The crimson king will rise from its crypts

Morgan Gavin:
For the Emoji movie will be withus, no matter the cost of our very souls! Shall the abandoned Emoji of broken Nokia phones haunt us to our very graves and beyond!? The Crimson king doesn’t hold a fucking candle to the emoji movie. our Lord and savior! Beyond the edginess of My Name J.E.f.f… Justice Education Fantastic Four

thy_undying:
the candle will burn the oozing mold from those cursed emojis

Morgan Gavin:
the ooze will scream in repulsion as the Grim Iron Reaper will without its fart of reverance for you, BEWARE THE FART OF REVERANCE FOR YOU WILL DRAMA ALERT YOU PANTS! epidermis be sworn!

The Shitposting Hermit:
what the hell

Morgan Gavin:
Don’t fear the shittier poster!

thy_undying:
the sharp edge of the scythe, will cut the weak from the soil

Morgan Gavin:
for the Undying will love the forliving with the furious batter ram of syco the wunderhound! May his eternal butt sweep be our undoing! for the Fear Pillow will smother everything that the Courage blanket hates, and the evil screams by swept unto the old mans rug of determination… ALL WILL FAIL THE SANS TEST OF NO MERCY!

The Shitposting Hermit:
praise KEK. brother!

thy_undying:
The love for the undying will be long forgotten in the deep depths of hell

Morgan Gavin:
The Kermit Eternrnal Kevil

thy_undying:
undone by those beyond our grasp

Morgan Gavin:
The Kevil will be more evil than Evil or kevin combined, for their Paint cans of mercy will condemn the souls of the wet bandits to a sacrificial alter of blood letting and glitter bombs!

thy_undying:
the rug will be lifted out from under

The Shitposting Hermit:
“wet”… “Bandits”… why the fuck? what the fuck is an wet bandit

Morgan Gavin:
Are you ignorant of the plight of those left Home alone?

thy_undying:
the bandit will fall, trip upon his own feet, kneel down to a blood God

Morgan Gavin:
The micromachines of depression lead to the flame thrower of defiance, while the spider and hair gel of fear and rasping death will cling to your face, never letting go, as the nail of self preservation drives itself into your foot, giving you the tetnus of shame!

thy_undying:
The spiders and their vast webs, pulling the strings from behind

Morgan Gavin:
And fans of grime will blow the feathers of desolation unto the unwilling, there, they will be tripped and flung into the forboding basment of freezing, it will be there that the Kevil will hold the falling iron of the Rapture to your face, and leave amrk of shame and lo, thy Fear Pillow will shame you to know end in your ignorance of filth and degradation! FOR THEE SHALL INHERIT NONE BUT THE SACRIMENT OF THE TWELVE GODS OF BAD SEQUELS AND SHAME YOUR POOPCORN SHATTING WAYS. NOOT NOOT MOTHERFUCKER

The Shitposting Hermit:
the twelve gods of bad sequels are best gods. i unironically worship a meme god

thy_undying:
Raptured beyond saving, with a pillow case over what remained of their pride. The popcorn pops when the fat man sings.

Morgan Gavin:
I AM THE FORSAKEN MEMESON, DELIVERED BY THE MEME GOD TO CRAMP THE STYLE OF FURRIZORDS

thy_undying:
A song of death, to who gained the right they asked in the end of days.

The Shitposting Hermit:
chin chin the god of darkness. kek the god of creation and jakepaulus the cancer god

Morgan Gavin:
And lo, the seventh sigil be lit by the nightlight of leg cramps, and screams shall know not the ways of man, as the digital download and micro transactions shall bleed various bank accounts dry of their illgotten gains, so sayeth the Memson, of thy crushed candy

thy_undying:
All will kneel to a lie spoken by the unjust. Rain their wallets, and goods upon the crushed souls(edited)

The Shitposting Hermit:
J-I-N-G-L-E-J-A-N-G-L-E… Jinglejangle!!

Morgan Gavin:
And those with ashes upon their darkened souls will shutter the skeletons of legions past, the Ashen o

thy_undying:
The Legions might is flawed, with loyalty questioned and irrational choices. The keeper of the gate remains unfazed. They are here calling a name

Morgan Gavin:
Lead not those into temptation, but scream apart fro mthe hidden horrors that scream of rolling out, and may the Gumminess Bear, its wailing screams and death wails as it quivers and bounces, its death whale calling to a finite desperation… May the relevance of the hate fox know only the clown ad the cynical gnome, or may we forever be haunted by the Finaff King, his many colored hair and twirled mustache becoming and horrendous fan fiction, to which our souls know only death and damnation!

His mem, hs legend live on in the second adpocolypse, brought to a fidget spinning end by the fire addicted, clown themed, cynical gnome, who knows all secrets, and drinks of the Gi Feyuel, which burns as brightly, knowing only the souls of the tormented may truly bring him closer ot the ultimate fruition of hell unleashed, the chains only cursed links melted together in a serious knot of confusion of tubes powered by the hell cats of grumpiness!

thy_undying:
Gummy bears decapitated, on the executioner’s block. A laugh, a grin, by the spectators. Wailing arms in the air. The gods witness this event, such strong hatered for the demons which mask in candy. Chocolate rivers run dry. The canes of candy hanging the unworthy.

Morgan Gavin:
Spread the link of the chaos meme, and suffer the riches, piled onto the weight of your mind, infested by the fear pillow and smothered of oxygen by the creative curses of the irrelevant through which known shall ever know of the Trumpism and the he will not divide us chant, that through the tenth kingdom of hellish insanity shall we ever known the Con Khan Network and scream out Shatnered memes through which none are truly safe, or hath been cursed by the Druidic Ethereal fallicies which plague only the Over Watched butt of the Tracer! Can no leage of Legends stand to the trials and trails of the Roadhog, fermented meat, left in the sun and smothered with the defecation and diseased drool boiled to a thick soup that only the Sithian dungeons can keep twisting in the winds!?

And lo, again, in the ninth kingdom of the Golden Sunmoon, the desert sands will shift to the Snow of Jons and Garfields, his eternal tormentor and consumer of lasagna, a strange mystical treat created through the grinding and smashing of meath and tomotos, pa plague infested book of faces, called only to activate when the Necronomicon of passwords is forgotten, and thy Google of youTubian failures may enter a hack and slash game of Keemcynical proportions!

thy_undying:
Tracing the fingers which cling onto the images of laughter or to be silly. Kingdoms melt away in the wind when the legends speak of cheap tricks. Such decay when they sing of sunshine and rainbows. The Snow of john indeed knows nothing. Swining a sword at the dead that walk. Such a fool he be. In the frozen seas, the Slash man threw his axe upon the soaking puddle. Such thunder, echoes into the horizon. Necronomicon spreads the images across the landscape, infesting the wicked. Our backs ache by the hollowed. The lost.

Morgan Gavin:
Cursed by none, wanted by all, the curse of the Fear Pillow and the Abomination of the Universe, the Puppy Monkey Baby, the unwanted one, the freak of genetic tampering, science cursed by the evils of the four chans of old, back to the before days, the lords of cinder and repentance knowing no mercy as the tenth sign and sigil of the Adpocolypse lords a destructive force of unrecognizeable proportions upon our souls, driving us to the brink of insanity with its very presence!
A purge of anger, a purge of violence, a purge of bad memes, forced into existence against their will, taken flight and form against their creators shall rummage through the everlasting cursed forms of physical sentience, coding of ones and zeroes, twos and threes shall form and reform into the creations upon which none hath asked for and yet all shall scream unto the blind fires of old, “Have ye mercy!?” And the kings of Memes and their Memesons shall scry unto the unfortunate few, “Leggo my eggo”\

thy_undying:
Abominations plagued puppies they be. Crawling, dragging its frail limbs. The cinder is warm, unrelenting. An unstoppable force. They stand idly by, whilst the purge is upon us.

Morgan Gavin:
And thine eggo shall have been let go, as millions of pictures, doctored to initiate a fourth purge into the tenth kingdom shall unleash a torrent of sad depressed bookface pages, a slew of unwarranted and unwanted criticiysm for the hattering of the tenth reality plague, no, they shall see their works mocked and made to be as flickering shadows, that which screams for a lack of a better word, the “Sleepless in Seattle” Brought forth by the army of Sean Connerys appearing into the Ranks of Jeopardy, and the Nicholas Cages in wooden bear costumes, infiltrated by the beehives of shame and disbelief, shall go to the center of madness, and none shall know if their works are truly good or not, as the quality of dimensions presented there within are none but predetermined fixtures into the horrid flaws of humanities core values.

The Shitposting Hermit:
sean connery is best

Morgan Gavin:
And none in the Ninth kingdom of the golden sunmoon shall know which way to go, and instead, use a flawed apple maps to take portrate videos, which shall piss the resto f us off, as we send forth the Memesons and Memefathers of old to the eighth kingdom, where a peanut butter jar with an oft repeating loop of time, in which a silent Leonardo Dicaprio shall be mauled by a bear while declaring himself the king of the world, but his world shall sink, and he shall claim for a rose to never let go, but the roots shall know only the dampened sunlight and the weak nutrients, and hath let him has a tiny golden statue after so many years.

thy_undying:
Eggs crack upon the orbiting bowl, in the centre. Caged the Nicholas in a confined space. A lost of control, independence. A hound at the rattled cage, “Woof”. No one is a hero in this sorrow tale, only those who believe themselve to be whole.

Morgan Gavin:
To seek the plains of madness, they shall travel through a demented real of misery and bad remakes, infested with flaws and sins, which only a select few shall truly understand the tone of mockery and satire, to the seventh kingdom of the foolish and repository of badly over used memes, the mynameisjeff shall scry only to those of souls most ripped fresh fro mthe bloated carcasses of dementors, where thy harry potter fanship shall burn with fury as no more scrolls of magical boy wizards are fraught with fanservice, and no shipping of boy wizard verus dark forboding shall happen. For only the rule of law shall scry them to the Anime Weeabu culture shock that Anime is not a Cartoon, but rather a sacred art unto which only the Hehachi Miazaki Clan shall rise to be the king of fighters!

No, they shall too be plagued by the cloned failure of the two, and the rise of the Sean Cagery shall be born, weighed down by the anger and confused chaos that only seems possible in a twisted nightmare realm, in which no one shall truly know what the fermented rage pillow covers they are saying, nor if they are truly good or not. Maybe, the souls of the twisted ones, the animatroni shall see an end to the fictious misrepresentations of those lost and damned, and soon, the eternal war of spite and greed shall seek to be of a never ending end, and the rule of fine dust shall be imposed, but none shall ever really know what the fuck is actually going on!

thy_undying:
Isenguard is a large fortress beyond our reach. Cannot be seen by consaulting maps. No King or Queen of Potter. A boy is not lost in the anime. Wizzard laws brake the rules of men, decieving the wise. “Ho ho ho” the fat man sits upon his wooden throne. Twisted by madness.

Well, hey there!

Tiktoks, writing, and love, what else is there in life?

Emotional roller coaster!

I need to talk about this.
I don’t care if someone pulls me aside and goes, “Heeeeey buddy, I saw that thing, why’d you post that thing?”
Because posting about the thing is my way of pushing through my own insecurity about creating content, and for the longest time I never really cared what anyone thought about my content, it didn’t have any direct affect on my life.
I never thought my words or actions had any actual effect on peoples emotions or thoughts, and now, that I have been at Amazon for nearly two years at this point, have forged bonds and friendships. stealth relationships, and had romantic interests, (And yes god damn it I WILL talk about love, because why the hell wouldn’t I?) as well as created this weird as hell Matrix of random connections all up and down the chain of command at Amazon, from GMs, AMs, to PAs, KBS, PS, WS, and AAs, like, holy fucking shit, it’s been a trippy as hell experience, I’m finding myself at a weird stand still.
The point is this, I’m perfectly aware, I KNOW. Truly, I do KNOW where things stand on every level, and I’m trying to balance everything out in my head before I do anything.
Because I’ve been put through what feels like a 36 round championship title fight, been knocked down with a metaphorical punch to the chest and had a ten count to get the fuck back up.
I read somewhere that happiness and sadness unlock or enhance certain aspects of our psychology, happiness boosts up our creativity and sadness enhances our ability to analyze situations, whatever they may be. In order to get to the root problem of this whole thing, I needed to get to that point where my heart felt like it was dropping into a bucket of ice.
Not through conscious choice, but as a matter of the natural cycle of the seven stages of grief, I’ve been through the worst of it, and I nailed it down to the basic. The failure of not taking action, of overthinking, of seeing a straight line and deciding to let the journey curve and twist and pop up and down.
Though I do have hope that reconciliation can happen, I myself can not take any steps towards it, it’s not that I don’t want to, trust me, I do, but I’ve forgotten a very important lesson, that if you chase a squirrel, that little bastards going to dart the hell away each and every time.
However, if you’re patient, and stay very still, and feed the other birds and squirrels at the park, eventually, that squirrels going to want some of that goodness.
By the way, I AM talking about squirrels.
I create stories, songs, lyrics, and Tiktoks, because indirectly, subconsciously, they are messages or adventures for those that want, or need to hear them.
And not being able to be blunt about this is killing me, seriously, I’d much rather be upfront then have to dance around this thing.
I need an apology. I don’t care what channels I have to go through to set up to get one for what went down, but I will get one.
I think that was the straw that broke the camels back for me.
I can forgive a lot, but that? That needs to be rectified, resolved.

Tiktok’o’clock!

That aside, I have reached 7k on Tiktok, so I’m getting close to my goals in terms of numbers, if I hit 10k, I can apply for the creator fund, which means I’ll be able to make some spare change with some of these vids. Which means, I’ll have to find some of the freakier stuff on there to duet or stitch.
I also need to do some more dances, and I’m always down to appear in others Toks, Snaps, Instagram posts, and so on, I’ve never been shy about that kind of thing. I have a few ideas for skits and whatnot, I want to run a few ideas across a few people and see what can be done to make those ideas happen.
Because I’ve got some really cool ideas for a cross platform series!
My largest issue that needs to be worked on is collaboration momentum, the more I do something the easier it is for me to knock it out of the park. It’s just that first initial jump into something that bothers me a little bit.

Music and the Muse!

Music wise, I’ve got three or four ideas for albums that I want to try out, I’ve been doing a ton of crooning tracks for a while, some skit tracks, one or two country tunes, a ton of rap, some tracks with back ground vocals, and some with lyrics to them.
Which I need to get back to doing the ones with lyrics because those are by far the absolute best ones, while the freestyle are OKAY for the most part, I need to find a hook, a way to bring it back in.
I do have a few of those floating around, but for the most part, I’m mostly a story teller, there needs to be a progression in the lyrics, moving forward on a journey.
It’s actually a mental requirement of mine that for a tracks lyrics to really have that OOMPH that I need a muse, which, for a while, I had… have… had… basically, a connection to the lyrics that feels amazing when I get out there to belt it out. thing is, for a while now, that spots seemingly open, as far as I’m aware, since the previous muse wasn’t feeling it anymore.
It’s this connection that allows me to dive deep into my emotional well and brings out the best in what I can do, if I’m inspired, I can just knock it out.
Although, it’s not like anyone can fill out an application for “Morgan’s Muse!” and nail the spot. This has to be a connection that I personally feel, intensely. Specifically, has to be a woman, sorry guys, just the way I’m wired when creating, and there has to be a spark that’s lit when I look into her eyes, like a fireworks display going off in the center of my mind.
Love is the most powerful of emotional connections out there, and if there’s a spark of that, and it hits me deeply, then you’ll know as well, it’s a rare thing, when it hits the CORE of your soul, lights that fire in you, and makes you feel a thing or two about a thing or two because that’s what brings you happiness.
Am I open to repeats? Sure, always happy for that kind of deal, something familiar a return to comfort and warmth, of a souls fire and forging of a reconnection that might’ve been thought lost.
The next album is going to be called “Heart’s Desire” I’ve had the album cover done for quite a while now, but the connection that was behind this has kinda frayed at the edges, but I’m still going to press through with it. I feel uneasy about the album cover, as it involves some old art work I did of a past… current… connection…
That aside, I recently made a track called “She who I’d call queen” from a set of lyrics I wrote, that song is only 1/4 of the lyrics and I’m going to knock out the other three quarters tonight, I might have to redo the original track, since the vocals are a bit on the soft side at the start. But I REALLY don’t want to. I’ll see what I can do about getting an app or two that’ll be able to raise the main vocals a little bit.
I think there’s a bit of magic to how I’ve been able to knock these tracks out, because there is LITERALLY no planning whatsoever, I just grab some coffee, pick a beat I haven’t used before and just go for it. Sometimes it works out, other times I need to do it a few times before I’m satisfied, but people seem to enjoy it.

Sexy Chocolate and the handsome potato!

I get way too excited about things sometimes, like to the point where I get nervous and giddy and everything ends up falling apart, it’s not that I intend for these things to happen, just the way it is, kind of like expecting a surprise birthday party and finding out that well, HOLY CRAP it’s a single person, with a cupcake, and they haven’t yet lit the candle, and they’re just standing there like, WELL, this is indeed a thing!

The point I’m trying to make here is this:
Dear sexy chocolate, come get this handsome potato. OH MY GOD JUST CAME UP WITH THE PERFECT TIKTOK. I need chocolate and a potato.

Author’s Block

Writing wise, I was working on a small side project called Sogno Della Dinastia: Bianco e nero, which translates to “Black and White” I began writing it on Twitter a while back and it somehow fizzled out, it was an interesting concept.
Another series was some romantic thing, IT WAS BALLS OUT AMAZING!

DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF PURE FICTION, ANY AND ALL RESEMBLANCE TO ACTUAL EVENTS OR PERSONS IS… MOSTLY COINCIDENTAL, I’M INSPIRED BY MANY THINGS AT MANY POINTS IN TIME. I TAKE THOSE THINGS AND MAKE AWESOMENESS WITH IT.

Here’s a few snippets:

Even without speaking, She was telling him she wanted him too. She sighed heavily at the start of shift, the weight of the world seeming to press down on her.
He knew something was going on.
She later stopped in front of him many times, hoping he’d take notice.
He did, each time.
He smiled, for he knew she was nervous, that she wanted to tell him how she felt.
It was okay, he felt the same way too.
After all, that’s what true love was, the ability to communicate without actually talking.
It was in the little things they did while around one another.
They were in love, and the whirlpool of their journey was winding them into tighter and tighter circles.
She paused, mimicking an actions he’d seen him do many times over by putting her index finger on her pulse, just behind her jaw.
He noticed everything, his heart pounding. Still he remained composed. He loved her, after all.
When her brown eyes met his green, there was always something magical.
She needed to be sure. She didn’t want to be hurt again, she wanted to trust him with her heart.
Her mind flashed back to the first time they argued, and though she’d deny being afraid it’d happen again, she let that moment inflict a moment of fear.
He understood perfectly, he always had. He knew perfectly well that she needed to be the one to approach him.
For her to initiate the conversation, and let it flow from there. She knew he was talkative, that given half the chance he’d talk her ear off the whole day.
She also knew he followed any rules she put in place.
He sighed heavily, knowing the issues they both faced. Both were nervous, both wanted the same thing, both had problems with starting the conversation.
She’d be hesitant.
He’d talk too soft.
She wanted him close again.
He wanted her close as well.

Today was another day, and though opportunity was striking, it could also mean a shift in direction they were both headed, if everyone else had their say.
With more and more people chiming in, it seemed impossible for them.
Or was it?

He would try again, the universe seemed to be against him, maybe he had everything wrong, the fires of passion he used to have were slowly dying, he needed to remind himself of what drew him to her constantly.
A few people said she was just using him for the way he made her feel, but in a way, if she was happy, he was happy.
If her happiness meant he needed to step up and be her man…
He’d need to change his approach. He was nervous, terrified, unsure of the possible change.
He liked how he was, but she needed something more from him, she needed to see his flirty, romantic, seductive side he’d sometimes show without knowing it.
She liked that side.
But, how to bring it out again?

It was the next day, she was staffed in the same place as before.
She was excited.
Anxious.
She was sure how the day would unfold, but she was sure that no matter what, he would be hers as she once knew him.
She loved him. She wanted him.
He wasn’t like any of the other men.
He was kind, caring, had actually taken the time to get to know her instead of casually flirting and disappearing when she turned him down.
He’d gotten to know her friend, and was always curious about her life.
She was hesitant at first, offering sometimes blunt responses.

Then he’d done something no other man had done before, he started sharing his work with her.
Giving her small handmade gifts, little things that he’d cobbled together out of other things. Hair ties, bracelets, little golden rings studded with diamonds.
He told her she was his muse, that he had feelings for her, but he didn’t want to rush the friendship.
He’d been so patient with her, and let her know when she’d hit his limit.
He was understanding and forgiving beyond what any other person would be.
He had his faults, everyone did, but he more than made up for them in other ways.
She had to hold tight to him when he thought he had done something wrong and tried to pull away, she reigned him back in, and in doing so, sealed for herself, a place in his heart and mind.
They had been through so much, and yet so little at the same time. She tested him, time and again, with little things in little ways.
Both direct and indirect.
He recounted little details about her, rarely mentioned moments that had passed, small conversations and more.
He paid more attention to her then she realized, and without realizing it, began to let her guard down around him, letting him know more and more about herself that she’d have otherwise kept secret.
She dropped little hints here and there, small, sometimes obvious, moments.
She wanted him.
He wanted her.
She was tired of small moves, tired of him beating around the bush, she wanted him upfront and to the point.
He was staffed in the same place again, but something was different.
He’d been working two different areas at the same time over the past couple of days.
When one area wasn’t busy, he’d work the other, and vice versa. She looked at him, casually going about his day, he looked at her as well, they each knew somehow.
Everyone around them was putting pressure on him to move on, to forget about her, and for a while, it seemed as though he was about to.
She knew he was persistent, but he had his moral compass. She liked that, it was something else about him that was different.
He was genuine.
He’d spend a majority of the shift in her area, keeping her company since there was no one else, small conversations here and there. Nothing major, just small things to pass the time.
When the conversation had run dry, he’d play a few games with her, normally, she’d refuse.
Not today. They played four games before it was obvious they’d be locked in ties each time. She wanted him to move closer, to stop dancing around what he was after.
What she was after, he’d been resistant, but for the right reasons.
Her friends had done their parts.
For a while, he’d forgotten the one thing that drew her towards him, to be genuinely himself. The new clothes helped some, but she wanted him. Almost craved him, her heart beat loudly in her chest, and somehow, he could always tell.
He disappeared for a while, she thought he’d left again. A while later, he came back, a spring in his step that she hadn’t seen in a long time.
For the first time in a while, they had a deep conversation. He then presented her with another gift, one she thought she’d never get.
He obliged with no hesitation, putting the small object in his back pocket.
She walked down the line just a little, and reassured herself that this was going to happen, she just needed to drop slight hints again.

He’d left for break, one of her friends waiting for him at the spot he’d usually be at.
He was too smart, so he approached and went straight to the point.
They talked at length about his attraction towards her, and the situation, as well as, an ever slight hint he caught.
He was enamored by her, he explained, she charged his creative battery like no other woman in there could.
The friend listened carefully, he was playing a cautionary part.
He knew he’d be able to piece everything together.
Later, when she and the friend were talking, he let it slip, just loud enough for him to hear, and he instantly heard it, processed it, and was comforted by the fact that he had been right all along.
He just needed to stay on the right path, follow the advice given.
After shift, he gave her the gift, and during the time they had before they left, she looked at him repeatedly, long eye contact, she was nervous, but then again, so was he, but he was there, calm, collected, confident. They talked for a little while, before they parted ways.
At least, he thought she left, but was pleasantly surprised when she hung back a little to see if he was following her, when he saw, he caught up rather quickly, he knew she had hung back just for him.
Still, he’d stopped at the stairs while they continued on.
She looked back a second time, and it was that second time, telling him he knew for a fact she wanted him.
Tonight she told herself, was a very good night.

She was in tears, for so long he had been the kind gentle soul she had known and loved secretly, but lately he had been cold, distant, sometimes brash without meaning to, she disliked him for those things.
At the same time, he had never lied to her, he’d been direct.
Over the passed week, something changed within him, she couldn’t put her finger on it, but it was almost as if something that was there, wasn’t anymore. As if he had left his anger, resentment, and inner demons behind.
There were small moments, where the two had shared mysteries or small moments.
Private thoughts, or past memories.
He’d always try to carry the conversation, fail, but sometimes on the rare occasions, it would be all day.
He liked talking of the deeper things, the romanticizing of the soul.
She loved his willingness to goof around.
The higher ups found it charming, he was one of their favorites. He didn’t understand why, he’d always tell them she helped out immensely.
Tonight however, felt different.
Tonight he’d notice her do something he’d never seen.
She had slipped away, just for a few minutes.

He looked at her, forever entranced at this secret side of her, and for a few minutes, he acted as her guard, keeping an eye out for those that might disturb those few precious moments.
He kept an eye out for work, and worried that there were eyes on her at all times.
she returned shortly, and excused herself. for the first time in a long time, they held meaningful eye contact. and in that instance, the connection reignited, not as intense, but it was there.
For everything everyone was telling him, he stood fast, present, the warmth, returned.

Love, lofe, and fuck all

If you went to get a bar with some friends in the car
Did you not feel that bird in the sky
Looking at us like ants in the wind
Tumbling, stumbling, till none ended or could begin?
A confused motley crew of two in the afternoon
The wind howling as Mr. Crowley played that cursed violin
To get in with no sin to the bowling alley with glowing pins
To smell the choking smoke, see the dimly lit rows of souls
Lined up for the 9 pounder to strike like lightning to metal in the night
A simple creed to thee to save ye from covid19
To breathe freely with lungs not yet squeezed tightly
To travel from tavern to tavern with friend and unknown foe
Lantern clutched tightly by white knuckled hands,

The glow of the sign, the buzz of neon,
The muffled laughter waiting just behind the door
Oh memories of yesteryear, fleeting thoughts of that cold crisp morn
To sing a rhapsody so melodious and sweet!
Catching the eye of some lass from across the room
Eyes meeting, heart beat increasing,
Across the room from two sides you meet
Mind racing thoughts of words too sweet
A fleeting thought, dispelled by friends encouraging
A lass of beauty blocked by a friend with envy in her eye

“Are you here to enjoy the night? Or take a flight of fancy?
“Of fantasy y’seek with me girl for one nights passion I do forbid, but hearts be true I’ll justify to admit.”
Your eye locked on hers, and hers on yours, two hearts beating in time, two souls eagerly prowling.
A moment’s thought, you lean in cleanly, your words convincing,
“My intent t’was only a mere glance, from that glance a chance perhaps at romance with the lass behind ye.
If I were to be honest, and honest I be, I’d gladly face the fire of a hundred dragons just for a few moments conversation with yonder lass so sweet.”
Away you lean, and passed the friend, towards the woman who caught your attention,
A few words exchanged, laughter for a while or two, a number exchanged, a memory created through and through.

But you wake, a dream as it might be, to find that lass next to you, happily sleeping.
Again you awake, you heart turned heavy, tis but a dream, there be no lady.
Social Distancing, masks, gloves, and PPE.
Stay at Home Orders, everything closed for the time being.
No gatherings, no pubs, no movies, nothing. Home to work, work to home, home to sleep, and sleep to dreaming.

Final thoughts?
Fuck you Covid19.

Welcome to 2020, I’m your host, Dan Rather!

I talk about things, work, friends, projects, that kind of thing. Your kind of thing!

Holy shit, if he does NOT make that joke, I’m going to be so pissed.
So, how was your New years? Like mine, uneventful, kinda like the rest of the holidays, but I do have some slight changes to the usual programming. Annnnd that’s right… I keep forgetting that I have this thing, and rather than use  this  platform ot vent my various complaints and or treasures, I choose to instead post pointlessly bad videos and tweets that go unnoticed for a while and now I’m sad.
But, not anymore, thanks to the power of Arabian fucking coffee.
Yup.
It’s gon’ be like that today.
Anyways, I’ve been working my as off at amazon and aside from the ride situation changing for the better, apparrently, I now have a group I hang out with, well, I’ve got several groups I hang out with, but one more consistantly than the others. The weird thingis, I dunno how it all, oh wait- Yes, yes I do.
Think it might’ve been during that wonky period of time where I’m just extra flirty or something, happens every once in a while. But I just told this one gal, V, that I didn’t know what it was about her, but I liked her. And it’s true. There’s something about her I can’t put my finger on, but it’s there.
Anyways, I think I met her friend, A, first, and we had a quick conversation about something or other, then after shift, I talked her V, and then after that I introduced myself to I.
Weird thing is, thanks to I’s  wanting to hang out after shift, I now have a group of peeps That I hang out with after shift. Which is refreshing, but at the same time a bit worrying. Now, don’t get me wrong, these women are fucking amazing, and I’m really thankful I’m friends with them.
Just old paranoias and what not.
The reason I flit from group to group has something to do with a fear of rejection if interest in a gal is expressed, and then it just becomes slightly awkward, so I subconsciously fade away for a few weeks to let things cool day and act as if it’s just normal.
It’s the built up anxiety of repeated rejections and the knowledge and slight annoyance that that’s just going to be a part of things. And I really love working for Amazon.
But it really is a small town unto itself, so there is lies the problem, or, I don’t think it’s a problem, just something I’m slowly but surely pushing through.
2020 is going to be a new year, I’m no longer attached to Ashley, though the memories are bittersweet, they are slowly fading into the hazy fog that is the past.
Though I don’t believe I’m ready for dating, my subconscious has other ideas, and I’ve been noticing slight changes in my behaviour that supports that theory.
At the same time, I really do need to have some kind of social life, so if hanging out with friends after work is the way to do that, who am I to complain?
Besides, love is love, though it might be unreliable, love always finds a way. And just like every Jurassic Park movie, love is the T-Rex that will fuck yo sadness up in terrifying and hilarious ways.
Well, might as well dive into this. Or not, I’m still trying to sort everything out myself, but I think my problem is I over think things, and sometimes, I just need to dive into the deep end, and say “Fuck logic, I will enjoy mustard and toast at the same time!” Or maybe that’s my subconscious way of trying to deflect from the realization I might just have feelings for someone, and I’m slowly ramping up to asking them out.
The weird part is that it won’t be over a dating app. Which is just a fucking thing of its own.

That aside, I’ve started working on weird little pipe cleaner figures I like to call Piplaeners, why? Well… I don’t know why, but there awesome, and I’m slowly world building with every one that I create. Let’s see if I can pull a few up.80831662_471927350176422_7036172946527748096_n80900903_834241123681085_7729425855453069312_n80811702_2546410082263326_6814933365725069312_n80697408_3717571861618355_8067890323717619712_n80272528_590025335152853_5579368598624796672_n80357608_2566402456747613_7203153398026207232_n

I really like making these. They honestly don’t take that long to make and I’ve gotten down to a science, but so far, I’ve got the Golden King, The Red Queen, the Cursed Prince, the Queens Guard, and Dequadra.
Haven’t figured that one out yet. And it’s my newest work too! I’m also working on a massive one and I’m still planning out, and with every Piplaener made, I discover new ways of making them sturdier, I might actually have something going here!
Kind of exciting when you think about it!

Youtube’s still a thing, and I’ve now got a podcast going, which, I should really get cracking on the next episode, god I’m so bad at procrastinating…

I keep forgetting I have this thing

Annnd Apparently I suck at keeping this blog updated, so… Yeah? Maybe? I don’t fucking know, lmao.
So, let’s just dive right into the kibbles and bits, rather than the dick and shaft. Cause that would hurt both parties involved somehow.
So, what’ have I, the Glorious (Not glorious, just kinda normal) person been up to?
Writing a short story, originally wanted it to be a bit longer, but whatev’s, called, “Another Day and No VTO” it was supposed to be a satire about working in a Amazon Warehouse, the location being called WTF8 and it sometimes delved into some deep level shit.
Dementia, mass shootings, and sex assault. But those were the dark little bits.
On upside we had haunted robots, Hunger Games styled Candy Parades, Sentient furbies, and shit just going absolutely nuts on occasion. I was ramping up the crazy, and at the end of each part, had a poll with different options so people could vote on which one they liked that most.
It went pretty well, I’ve got all the files saved, so I might just slap that together and publish it as is.
Or not, I haven’t decided yet.
How I usually write is there’s usually a “Source”, a motivation so to speak that pops from a place or group, with the source, everything’s peachy, without the source, the project’s pretty much dead in the water.
Anyways, outside of that, everything’s going good. Can’t complain. I’ll do my best to keep everything updated, not rely on FB so much.

No other way to say it.

There seems to be a major disconnect, not the kind of disconnect that makes you think of a missed connection, or a frayed wire, but the kind of disconnect that makes one wonder what the shit is going on.
The old saying, “The family that plays together, stays together” Is very true, but what about the opposite effect?
In a three member family, Ma, Pop, and son, there’s a long standing dynamic that the family bond is supposed to be the strongest one, that no matter what, they have each other to rely on.
But what if one member of that family turns incredibly bitter over time, for whatever reason, and that bitterness turns into a form of control, what then?
How are the other two members of that family supposed to deal with that bitterness, wherever it may come from.
Is there a point later on down the line where enough’s enough?
That’s what I thought of the Lego Movie 2.

Nazi Beer Pong, R. Kelly Crying, and Erasing Michael Jackson… What the fuck.

So, normally, or rather lately I don’t bother with the stronger stuff, I just don’t, there’s already enough examples of me getting pissed about dumb ass things that really… I shouldn’t get mad at.
Still, the Miss America Pageant can go fuck itself, I have my reasons.
So, what’s the new rager today?
I mean, if you have to ask that, ya’ didn’t read the title of this, did ya?
So let’s tackle the biggest fucker here, shall we?
Nazi beer pong. Teens who recently learned about the Holocaust, and saw the angry Austrian dude flinging hands around, who blamed Germany’s defeat on the Jewish annnnd subsequently decided, “AWRIGHT, LETS PARTAY!” first off, fuck em. fuck those idiots for thinking this was such a GREAT FUCKING IDEA in the first place,
Yes, I get it, they’re sorry, but y’know what? That’s the beauty of getting older, you start to give less of a fuck about the fact they’re sorry AFTER THE FACT and more pissed about the fact they did this shit in the first place.
Not to mention, y’know, the great sentient cheesy poof with a habit of flicking the word Fake News everywhere failed to condemn Nazis, and said there were great people on both sides… Yeah, I’m guessing that had a shit ton to do with why they thought this was a great theme for a party, which, HA, underage drinking and the usual dumbassery of thinking they’d get away with this was fucking brilliant.
Also, kudos to the dumbass that thought up the brilliant plan of flooding the principal with emails so he wouldn’t be able to expel them from school. yeah, no. If I were the principal of that place, I’d have thrown a fucking rally, invite the little bastards to the center of the auditorium, give a big ol speech, and hand them the expulsion papers, and yeah, while that’d be quick to solve the riddle of “Hurdur, can’t expel us if we’re gunna flood his emails!” and quick to piss a few parents off, I’d kindly remind the little shits that our school has no room, absolutely none whatsoever for that kind of bullshit.
And yes, the parents would have their opinions about “WE PAID SO MUCH MONEY SO OUR DARLING LITTLE ANGEL COULD HAVE THE BEST EDUCATION!”
I would have mine, “We sent good young men to their graves by the thousands to kill the Nazi sumbitch that was killing over 6 million Jewish practitioners, and the last thing we need is another rise of the Nazi, get your kid the fuck off my campus.”
My initial gut reaction over with… Let’s dial it back a little.

First, don’t get me wrong, I read the CNN article, and I’m happy that the Nazi Beer Pongers got a taste of reality, by way of Eva Schloss telling them about the horrors of the Holocaust, about how she and her Step sister, Anne Frank, hid from the Nazis in an apartment block, and survived the concentration camps while, unfortunately, Anne Frank passed away before her sixteenth birthday.
It’s refreshing to know that with the proper guidance and educational tools, as well as a little first person recounting of such horrifying events, the youth of today can become a better generation.
Seriously, Fuck Nazis.
I wanted to get that out of the way before heading into the second part.

R. Kelly crying… Just, okay, I don’t even know where to begin, so i’m going to start at the heaviest thing here:
The man’s accused of having relations with underage girls, imprisoning women in his house, being a controlling asshole, and… yeah, let’s zipline back to that first one, since, the other two pale in comparison:
R. Kelly is being accused of being a sexual predator.
Just… what the actual fuck. And when Gayle King interviewed him, and I love this part, because it shows that for a split second he premeditated and planned this shit out:
Robert asked if a particular camera was on him, and when it was confirmed, the dude purposefully flipped out, addressing the camera directly, screaming, punching his fist, flipping out, basically the god damned water works.

And I wasn’t focusing so much on the man baby being a dramatic asshole, I was much more focused on Gayle herself, she sat there, with poise, calmly trying to figure out a way to get everything under control, and she did just that.
He just continued pouring on the gas to the fire and went all out, and while I’m tempted to feel sorry for the guy, I can’t, I just can’t.
IF, for some reason, this was blackmail, or someone had kidnapped someone close to him, and he was freaking out about this, because they wanted something of his, but he’s like, “Nah motherfucker, my shit’s mine.” THEN and only then would I feel sorry for the guy. And if he’s proven innocent in the end of all of this, I will walk back my comments, but if he’s guilty of pedophilia, then all my fucks have simply run out and he deserves everything coming to him.
It’s sad to know that being a Celebrity comes with the known risk of someone destroying your life because of a fuck up, and yes, I am aware that nothing’s been proven yet, but Robert’s going to have to register as a sex offender, serve time in which he’ll get his ass handed to him many times over, his music’s getting pulled off the play lists the world over, and basically, his life’s work is over with.
Hopefully, the latter’s not the case, but if it is, fuck him. Never listened to his music that much anyways. And there will always be a dedicated fan base, no matter what. People, fans, that will listen to his music no matter what the hell is going on.

Which brings us to the final third of this: Because of a documentary aired on HBO, “Leaving Neverland”, basically the poison pill that kills the majority of love for the King of Pop, Michael Jackson is effectively and posthumously being erased from culture, why?
As stated above, there will always be die hard fans who’ve got eternal love for Michael Jackson, no matter what, but it will become more and more difficult to publicly show that appreciation for his musical genius, especially when there are parties out there, ever ready to continue their assault on his musical majesty.
The documentary has interviews from people claiming Michael molested them when they were kids, and I’m not going to lie when I ask the question, where the fuck were these assholes while he was alive?
Why did they only feel safe to come out of the woodwork ten years after he passed away, though there are people out there that say his doctor murdered him. And verdicts as well. Nother topic for another day, if I remember that.
What disturbs me the most is, that in this weird era we seem to be in, Which, hey, if it does the great deed of removing creepy fucks from positions of power, I’m all for it. But, if the movement assails the memory of the person after they’ve passed away, that’s just wrong.
Regardless of what the proof and verdict is, I will always enjoy michaels music, regardless of what the majority of die hard Celeb Status killers want to say.
Prove them guilty while they’re alive, while it has the most impact, don’t wait till their bodies have been cold in the ground for a decade to turn the cherished memory of the person into a pile of shit smelling ash.

So, in closing:
Nazi’s can go fuck themselves.
Robert Kelly needs to man the fuck up and stop pitching bitch fits at the camera.
Stop trying to kill the memory of his Musical Majesty, Michael Jackson, long may he moon walk over the haters.

Just needed to get this out of the way…

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