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.

2021 in retrospect

A few things really.I know I’m kinda boring on FB but that’s fine with me, I’m kind of invisible on the whole “Let’s post shit to feel better but end up pissing one or two sad people off” scale, and I try not to buy into the fact that Social Media on the whole is meant to keep people angry and posting. But I don’t really think that’s the case. Social Media platforms, on the whole, are like babies.

Everyone likes babies. They’re the most neutral things on the planet, and it’s just like there are no bad dogs, just bad people who train them to be that way.

Facebook can be seen in a bad light, and it often does, but so can everything else when people don’t really understand.

Maybe it’s just me, but I try to see the good in people, regardless of their past, and it’s the same with the internet, it’s simply a tool, and how we use it and what we receive in turns of feedback determines how we continue to perceive it.

I was live the other night on tiktok, as I usually am, and occasionally I get cohost requests from kids, who for the most part are just being kids. True, most of the time I just hope their parents are walking by with a rolled up newspaper so they can get a smack on the upside the back of they head, but I just let them get what they want to say out of the way, most of the time it’s a few low level insults and I don’t react to it (Thank you twitter and COD community for years of emotional brutalization, assholes. :D) and then they disconnect and I simply go on like nothing happened.
And for those wondering, the spread is 99% adults, 0.5% puppets, and 0.5% random kids requesting to go live with me out of random chance. I don’t seek them out, ever.
I forgot where I was going with this, but as long as the person feels like they did a good job, in terms of how they feel using the tools at their disposal to accomplish the job they take on, they should get papa johns pizza.
Haven’t had papa johns pizza in a minute, I usually order from Dominoes, since they’ve got that sweet sweet 5 dollar pizza coupon I take advantage of and it’s pretty cool on that. Anyways, there was this squirrel I saw running across the street a while back, and I just forgot about it until this point in time, which is okay I guess, anyways, I do free readings on my lives, and it’s kind of bled into everyday things, cause a few people at work have requested them and I’m fine with that, doesn’t happen too often, and it’s been mainly people I’ve hung out with that request them.
I’ve had one or two people be a little concerned about my intent, but I pretty much tell em I just shuffle the deck, read the cards that pop out, and if it connects, it connects. If not, no biggie, it’s just a card game to me anyways. But I can understand on some level both the concern about the supernatural aspects of it as well as the need to get some kind of direction on what to do. I don’t take it to the level of fake readers where they simply spout off some rainbow out the ass, sunshine screaming from the nostrils, disney song and dance routine out the crotch, blow smoke out the nipples romance thing, I just read the cards to them and give it to them straight.
I still keep strong in my faith, still read the bible, and still contemplate what it actually is my purpose in life really is. Sometimes I feel like I’m a magnet for broken people just looking for some level of connection, those that seemingly isolate themselves, who feel sometimes out of place in some level, someone to identify with, maybe that’s my purpose, why I chose “The Doctor” as my nickname as a Learning Ambassador….
Maybe that’s why she’s holding on so tightly, despite our true time together having ended long ago… Anyways, the years 2018 to 2021… have been an experience for me. I’ve had to put a lot of things and people behind me, and accept things that I never thought I’d have to both about myself and about those I thought were my friends.

I realize that a vast majority of people I met at LGB8 won’t really think about me too much, that’s fine, after all, time marches forward, we meet new people and move on with life, and I have a difficult time letting go of people as well, and I’ve had to do that with folks that I had developed deep connections with, and had great conversations, and through these people, and they know who they are, I realized that I, and they, are merely a temporary presence in each others lives, we are meant to be stepping stones in our journeys of personal growth and become stronger for it.

I have been taught some hard lessons, and have had to make huge sacrifices, and some choices that can never be undone.
I have learned that, and this lesson comes from the Gavin side of the family, harsh but true, unless you add value to yourself, no one will ever want you to be in their lives, because they will have no reason to aspire to be as happy as you are, or happier. If you have little in terms of wealth or material possessions, you have little to no value in the eyes of society. It is only through the acquiring of such things can you ever be a part of a group. Those that cannot acquire said wealth or property or make progress in their own lives on their own to the satisfaction of others are to be abandoned by the wayside and forgotten about.
My Dad didn’t teach me that, my mom neither, it’s just been my personal experience growing up with a crippling sense of dread at the fear of rejection that has taught me this, that and because of what I’ve posted in the past, that those who try to crave their own path and believe what they will instead of following the lead of others will to be cast aside.
I have had to overcome a lot of things to get to this point of comfort with myself, and the thought of going back to that level of negative self talk is absolutely not worth it. It was that level of thinking and isolation, and dealing with those who’d think less of me that forged me into the hard worker I am today, I had to go through basic training at Great Lakes to forcibly break myself so that I could figure out what wasn’t working and what was to get here.

Did it have some damage left over? yes. But am I much better person than I was back then? Of course.
My time with Amazon further enforced what I taught myself, that I am inherently valuable to myself, and through my self evaluation and sense of self worth, I could better be of service to others. Through that hard work and that urge to be better, I have made a few true friends and a few people that still require my help till they find the next step in their lives.

I have loved fiercely and truer then I ever have, and I will never regret knowing them because of those results. I have learned to say no, to reject that which doesn’t work for me, and to stand up for myself.

I am looking forward to what 2022 brings, and where I go from here, we only live once, and love many times, it is only through expression of our passion and love that we can truly appreciate the gifts that others have brought into our lives. Harsh lessons and uncomfortable truths are what fire the steel of our souls so that we may better forge ahead and steel ourselves for the wrought iron the world will throw at us.

Are those smithing puns doing anything for you?
Happy New Years, much Love to everyone, friends past, present and future, near and far, known and unknown, and lest you forget, I love you all.
And no, I am not depressed, I just don’t post that often, get distracted by shiny things, and have a weird sleep schedule.

When is the next Dorikame Book coming out? honestly don’t know.

When is my next album coming out and will I half ass it? Soon, and maybe.

Am I single or taken or engaged? That will be revealed.

Am I happy? Are these sarcastic answers answering the question you want answered?
Will I do a reading series for FB? LOL…. I dunno…

Do I still have feelings for her? Men never fall out of love, we really do not, I don’t think there’s a person alive who can truly say that they’ve run out of love for another person. All we can do is wish them happiness and luck in whatever they choose to do with their life. Love is love after all.

Can I tell you something?

I’m shy.
I know, I know… Let it sink in.
I’m normally a talkative person, at least, I was a talkative person, then I had the accident, and… well, everything kind of shifted perspective.
Everything except one aspect of my life.
Writing, it’s been the one thing I can always come back to in case anything ever falls apart of if I need to vent, because off the internet, I don’t feel very powerful.
Even on the internet, I’m not some kind of Demiinfluencer, or star, or anything like that. I’m just me.
All I have are my stories to occupy my time with, and that’s it.
Seriously.
I used to think that all I needed was a bit of luck and persistance and things would work themselves out and for a long time, that’s exactly how I thought, I’m not exactly proud of the results, but I can say that for whatever reason, I have the skillset I do, because I persisted in writing.
Maybe it’s because I have a from of control over whatever happens, or lack of control if I get too deep into the story itself?
Or maybe it’s a god complex?
You know, where you can make or break anything with a few simple keystrokes?
Authors complex, or something, outside of writing, I’m just me.
And, through a lot of self reflection, a bunch of accidents, relationships, a fuck ton of sex, and more than one time where I’ve gotten blackout drunk, or been roofied, I’ve gotten to where I am… Whereever that is.
I’ve got a lot of victories on the board, but for some reason, they don’t feel like victories, they feel like just another day, another step forward, another clank of the gears in the great clockwork of the universe.
I mean, I feel appreciated at work, and sometimes at home, and for a while, I used to feel appreciated on the internet, and in some cases I still do.

Maybe I just want someone to love now a days.
Yeah, I think that’s it.
I need someone to love, someone to come home to and talk about my day and not feel like I’m about to be over taken by some inconsequential thing.
I thought I had that with Caasi, Ashley, and Sarah, and Amy.
Amy was a sweet woman, still is. Just… I wish things had worked out with her, I was actually making real progress with her, and… I just took too long.

There it is, the thing that’s bothering me.
Things taking too long. Maybe patience, or being too patient is the problem? I need to act, need to make impulsive, but smart, decisions! I need to get out there and make short work of supposedly long decisions! I need to put myself out i nthe sun and learn to live with whatever ashes it makes of me!
But… I’m too cautious.
Ever since the accident.

Ever since the accident, survival is the only thing that matters, everything else, including finding love, is secondary…
Kinda sad.

Let’s talk about our DREAMS!

What if I told you, that I had a Notebook style dream about a woman in love with a Sandman enlisted in the Armed forces and the dream ends with her declaring her love for him, arms wrapped around him tightly as he slowly disappears into the winds?
Your first thought would be, “Annnnnnd now I’m crying.”
Your second thought would be, “Sand between the boobs.”
And your third thought would be, “Wait, if he’s made of sand…. Did… Did they just have sex?”
And good sirs and madams, the answers to those thoughts, theories, and questions you never knew needed asking or answering would be yes.
I cried too.

More ridiculous than that is the FB group known only as “https://www.facebook.com/events/448435052621047/” Or 1.1 million people storm Area 51 to slap some alien cheeks. What the “Clapping” involves leaves little to the imagination, but I assume it involves ramming things into other alien things as revenge for all the constipated red necks claiming it’s them thar aliens done with what all that there probing!
That’s what I’m guessing anyways, people have weird kinks when it comes to sex, and yes, I do talk about penis in vagina, vagina on penis, or where ever you like to stick where ever into wherever because we’re human, sex is a thing, and I’m not about to be virtually brow beaten by some lonely chick I’ll never meet into not talking or writing about the very thing that’s kept our literally fucking species going on.

I’ll talk about whatever god damn it! Including the previously mentioned clapping of alien cheeks and questions about sand storm sex, BECAUSE THAT’S THE KIND OF PERSON I AM! And as erotic as both scenarios sound, there’s the after effects of those scenarios!

For instance, if she takes a shower later on, does losing those particulates hurt the sandman? Or does he just thwip those things back into his form? Will the produced baby not be able to enjoy swimming? Will the other kids start bullying him or her by throwing glasses of water at his or her crotch and start calling them Sandick or sandtits!? Instead of Sandisk.
Because my humor is working multiple levels here!
more importantly:
If after years of enduring torment, will the sand baby morph into a mass shooter like Sand man or Sand woman, using their own body to murder those who tormented him? Not by slowly grinding away at their screaming forms, but just by straight up launching his or her fist at super speeds from the top of their heads down out their ass?
Hey, darkest timeline here.

Or will the kid turn out alright and have to be REALLY careful during puberty?
These questions about human/Desert hybrid physiology are fucking important!
Continue laughing.
Seriously, it’s humor.

But the dream was pretty sad, but satisfying, it hit all the right notes, and would’ve made for a god damned awesome movie, the questions asked, the motives behind the actions taken, the morally ambiguous sex scenes which mainly involve her, him, or the Apache helicopter rolling around in a pile of sand, while Beach boys blasts in the background?
Tear jerking… In ways.

I wish to god I was in a relationship. To love, be loved, share moments of hot steamy passion and dumb debates over whether to get the regular spicy sushi or the super spicy sushi, the quiet moments in between the sporadic conversations where we’re both in our own little worlds, only to be snapped back to the present by a brush of the hand?
The point of this post is that time is fleeting, life is fleeting, memory of the truly important moments is what keeps us going, pressing for something more, something better than what we had previously, and to always push forward, even when the task in front of us seems daunting, confusing, or down right pants shittingly terrifying.

Let’s talk about women in the lead for the moment and the disconnect I feel… Not a bad thing mind you, just… a bit left field, and this has NOTHING to do with sex… That I can tell.
Okay, take your average action movie, you know the thing:
1. Bad ass male lead.
2. Damsel in distress.
3. Asshole trying to do a bad thing.
4. Comic relief that’s more or less ignored until a crucial part of the movie.
5. Guy get’s the girl, which one, meh, don’t care.

Now, reverse the PHYSICAL and MENTAL genders involved. I get that Trans is a thing, but we’re not talking about that right now.
How much more likely are you to see that movie? how less likely?
Interesting in either case.

Moving forward:
Let’s talk about the E-girl that was deleted from life by her creepy ass boyfriend.
Let’s talk about the fact that this asshole slit her throat then posted pictures of it on Instagram, where it took a total of 72 hours for the site itself to take the account AND the photo down?

What the fuck?
First, Le Unpacking of the many levels of bullshit.

I’m no fan of E-girls.
Let me repeat that, very clearly:
If you are an E-girl, or claim to be an E-girl: You have zero self confidence in yourself in face to face situations to the point where you have to exploit yourself to get attention.
You may say that you have self confidence, but really, all your actually doing to running with the grain on the stereotype that E-girls are just a low grade version of Cam-girls, and fuck them too, because of the same reasons.

That being said, when I was 14, I have had friends that were E-girls that have tried to push their BS on me, and I was like, “Why be my E-girlfriend when I’m right in front of you?” Then they looked at me dumb, like I just farted in their pudding or something.

If you are a man or woman 18 or over in a relationship with someone 18 or younger: Fuck you, you creepy mother fucker.
The moment I turned 18 was the moment my then girlfriend broke up with me for the logical reason of, “Well, you’re an adult, and I’m still 16, so goodbyes!” and I was totally fine with it.
Sad, but totally fine with it,BECAUSE i KNOW THE LAW YOU FUCKING IDIOTS.
The dude was 21, in a relationship with a 17 year old e-girl, and when they met up, he straight up murdered her and posted a picture of her corpse on Instagram.
What the flying utter fuck is up with people?
We up to some crazy fucking bullshit now a days, and we’re at the point where Mass Murder, Children living in cages, kids being shot, White supremacy being our Presidents go to move, and YouTubers being absolute shit to their kids are normal.
Now, we’re at the point where teen girls are being killed by their creepy ass 21 year old boyfriends.
Like, god damned, the cycle of crazy never fucking surprises me, but god fucking damn it! This is why y’all should be careful.
This is why parents always have more than one girl, because they KNOW there’s a chance of one of the darling little angels doing something incredibly stupid and ends up getting killed.
This is why boys are a slightly safer bet. Kind of, boys are pretty fucked up as well.

Now, for a latte cleanser. I present: A fucking potato.

Image result for fucking potato

So, yeah, last night had this dream…

I’ve got nothing except love.

For some reason I always get weird when talking about love, not in the sense that it becomes perverted self inflation of how ginormous my dick is, because… that would be a gross use of power, also, physiologically, every large dicked man has a constant fear of having a heart attack caused by getting aroused, look it up, straight up fact.
Speaking of big dicks, the dude with the largest dong measures in at two fucking feet.
My question:
Does he go to Hentai cons? because people would fucking love that shit.

Anyways, today is one of the random, “Meh, I knock one out” days, I’m not active enough to garner new followers, but just active enough to keep the ones I have, and honestly, I don’t check the numbers anymore. Why? I don’t care about them, if I continually check the numbers to see how I’m doing, then I fuck myself with anxiety, and I don’t need that shit in my life again.
I get it now, when people say they turn off social media and what not, they try not to focus too much on it, because that’s just how shit is, you live, you learn, you get excited about nothing in particular, and then you move the fuck on.
I wish for the love of god it were that easy with me.
I kind of hate all my socials with a average sized dick passion. Yes, we’re floating back to that shit, because why the fuck not?
Anyways, to make matters interesting, works been going good, this MET is kicking my ass something fierce, but I’m sticking with it, with the knowledge and passion knowing that sometime in October, I’ll get converted, and with any luck, won’t have a ride situation that’s not going to fuck me out of 600 fucking dollars a fucking month just to get two and from work.
Look, I get it, you got out before they got you out, and you’ve got bills and shit to take care of, but how the fuck come I’ve got to be the one to do that, when clearly, you’ve got the scratch to do that on your own. Fuck, if I’m paying you 600 a month for rides to work and back, that I might as well move in with you, because that right the fuck there is rent levels of money and Jesus fucking Christ.
But at the same time, they’re my friend, and “Do the right thing” is ringing in my head. But momma didn’t raise no sucker, and I know when I’m getting fucked over, friendship or not.
And even when they get back in, it’s still gonna cost me 200 a week to get a ride with them, even when they’ve got their own money coming back in? Citing, gas, oil change, tires, blah blah blah when the fuck did I become responsible for MORE then just gas? Yes, the wear and tear and all that, but at the same time, at the end of each month, after taxes, rent, and gas, I’m essentially getting paid HALF of what everyone else’s is getting to take home. And I’m back to 900 a month instead of 2200 a month, so this is my main fucking gripe right there.

Yeah, we’re friends through thick and thin, but the moment you’re back at work is the moment I’m finding a better ride situation.

Well, here goes.

This isn’t easy for me to talk about, but I’m going to do my best. I have been so busy with work and other things that I’ve blanked completely on blogging and videos, and… it’s just been a fucking weird ride. And now with the MET and 3AM clock out times, (bigger paycheck) it seems a bit fucked that i’m talking about this kind of thing, but that what we all signed up for right?
Right.
So, here goes.
Our dog of fifteen years, my Valentines Dog, Kodiak Bear, passed away two days ago.
It’s hard to describe what I’m going through, a river of differing and competing emotions..
Anger that I wasn’t able to help him out more in his final days.
Joy that he’s no longer suffering from his affliction.
Sorry that he’s gone.
Grief from the massive, dopey hole that he’s left behind.
There are so many thoughts roaming through my head, so many stories I could tell you about that 80 pound bastard of a best friend, that it’s almost impossible to nail down everything.
the ones that could come to mind are the most memorable two.
this was just after a few years or months after we had got him, he was a Katrina rescue, and he was just the biggest pain in our asses ever, almost always trying to run away or doing something. I was 24, and was taking him for a walk, the leash must’ve slipped or something, because after a few steps, Kodes had figured out that he wasn’t on the leash anymore, or that I was holding the leash, because he simply just fucking bolted, he was a short, stubby little thing, but god fucking damn it, was he a fast littler fucker.
So, I bolted after him, for fifteen minutes straight, or what felt like fifteen minutes straight, I ran after him, full tilt, across busy streets, through peoples yards, almost getting hit once or twice myself before I simply just tackled him to the ground, and I mean, I had to push myself to get enough speed to knock the little guy to the ground. This dog was short, and looked fat as all fuck, but, all that fat looking shit, was really muscle, he for a few seconds, he fought against my grip around his belly and chest, but after that, I picked him up, and hoisted him over my shoulders like a farmer would a sheep, and carry his 80 pound ass all the way home, which was about five or six blocks.
The second story, is a bit more chill, it was seven or eight years later, I had just turned 27, and it was a few days after we had just gotten Max. It was in the middle of summer, and I had just gotten home with Caasi for one of our dates. kodi was in the front yard, barking his happy little head off, and we decided to play with him a little bit, which simply meant throwing the ball around while he showed little interest in actually retrieving the damned thing.
There wasn’t any wind that day, and it wasn’t too hot in the High Desert, but after a while, he laid down on the drive way, and I laid down next to him, she laid down next to me, and all three of us, it seemed like all three of us, just watched the only cloud in the sky slowly make it’s way across the sun.
In his later years, he’d slow down, but not enough for the squirrels to take advantage.. I don’t think he slowed down, maybe he just didn’t feel like running as much. His toenails clicking always kept me from getting a good nights rest, but then again, I’m going to miss it, he’s constant pacing about, but we later found out that he had a thing, I’m not going to talk about the thing, just know it wasn’t a pretty thing, and it drove him abso-fucking-lutely nuts.
I called him my Valentine’s Dog, because I got him shortly before Caasi and I broke up for the last time. Best damned dog ever.

Rest in peace little buddy.

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