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…

Little side projects

You ever have one of those aha! moments where something’s going on in your head, your not sure what, and then before you know it, boom! Instant weirdness? Well I get like that almost all the time, I don’t know what it is? Perhaps it’s a lack of mental stimulation that’s causing the subconscious to reach out to the consciousness and be all “WHAT UP BITCHES, IMMA BE OUT!”
Or maybe it’s just that mental stimulation is the grease that moves the gears of innovation towards the inevitable conclusion of reinventing the wheel?
Of course, reinventing the wheel is just… making another type of wheel isn’t it?
I mean, look, it’s a fucking wheel, a round thing, a circle at it’s base, you can’t just be all, “Look honey, I can make a trapezoidal rectangle into a rhombus like structure with the matrices of a honey-bear and THAT shit’s going to get me to work  five seconds faster than my regular wheels!”
“Ok honey, I believe you.”
No, one does not simply reinvent the fucking wheel, you can only make another slightly better version of the wheel.
Can you invent something else to replace the wheel?
Yes you can, hovercraft, helicopters, anti-gravity, and furbies are prime example of someone going, “Well, looks like we’ve got ourselves a thing many people use, let’s see if we can’t make that thing even better!”
Or in the case of furbies, even worse.
No asked for you, and yet you’re still here.
You furry fucking nightmare machine.
The reason why I bring this up is the idea that all things that require some form of manual labor will eventually fall to automation, unless the system that requires the human element is somehow renovated, streamlined, and made even better than that automated system.
The problem here is the willingness of that human element to work as fast, or if not faster than said automated system.
Yes, going to leave you hanging there.
Nope, someone smarter can figure out the rest.
Yes, you bloody well knew what you were getting into when you clicked this link.

Love, love, love

I’m going to unlock a stupid door.
Why’s it stupid?
Because for the longest time I’ve tried shutting it, and there’s no point in trying to resist holding the stupid door shut.
So, let’s talk about love, and just like that, we’re off to the races!

First off, I don’t believe in the societal boundary that love in the workplace won’t work, It’s kind of a dumb thing.
Maybe people just want to fuck and forget?
Maybe they don’t?
Maybe they want something, anything, really something that’ll keep them from losing their damned minds, and love’s pretty much the only thing that’ll do the trick.
Weird thing is, no matter what corporate Earth tries to dangle the sharp stabby stick of “This is my truth, not THE truth” in front of us, we can’t help but be human, and… want to fuck. I mean, c’mon, that’s just human, mammalian nature to want to meet someone that knocks it out of the park for you.
The reason why it’s so weird for me to talk about is because of my history with it. When I’m in love, I’m the happiest, greatest person in the world (Or  it seems that way to me.), when I’m out of it, it’s almost like there’s a part of me missing, almost like a secret shame that I’m not in a relationship.
Also, my self confidence because shit for some reason.
Love is one of those things that can either make or break a person, almost like the reason you’re doing those things, the reason you’re trying to accomplish those tasks, even if they originally were started of your own gumption, while in love, that other person because almost the sole motivating factor.
Is it because we’re trying to impress them?
Or is it just a matter of personal accomplishment, like, “I did this great thing, do you love me more for it?”
It’s kind of strange when you think about it.
Or, at least, it’s strange for me to think about it, almost like I recoil from it, almost.
Well! That’s enough bitching for one post.

Okay, I can do this.

For those expecting some kind of massive reveal, or brightly written article about dumb ass photo filters, Y’all can stop right the hell there, cause I ain’t that guy, in fact, if I were to say anything, I’d think that whatever words I’d come up with would be a product of a heavily distracted mind, already discontent with the way the natural world seems to thrive on honey basted bullshit.
And yes, I’m talking about that fucked front page, where everything seems to be driven by the idiocy that we’ve inherently created by gradually dumbing ourselves down intellectually and wow, intelligent, insightful dumbassery already.
You know, sometimes I even surprise myself? And yet, here we are, still on this planet with our souls clearly enraptured by the use of intelligent and worthless paragraphs which are clearly nothing more than fluff for what few informational sentence words your brain eyes are mind reading!
Yes, fuck your expectations!
fuck them hard!
Like… really fuck them hard.
You… naughty expectations.
Anyways, I had a bit of a weird weekend, and yeah, I’m going to talk about this, or at least continually fluff shit up because that’s what I’m good at! I say a lot without saying much, and maybe this is just a product of my already distracted mind as I repeat shit I’ve written before?
Fuck it, we’re going live with this.
Apparently, a Florida woman stabbed a man with a squirrel.
Let that shit sink in.
Getting stabbed.
With a fucking squirrel.
Do you know how fucking monster you have to be to pull that off?
As we all know, squirrels, along with most other small, adorable, nut stealing woodland critters are f lobby and not prone to let anything touch them…
This world… It’s people… With a squirrel.

We aren’t alone in the universe?

We aren’t the only living things in the universe?
Our kind and loving god, in his many forms has more than one pet project?
Well shit.
Time to Naruto run.
So, aliens are real, which means Roswell actually happened, and that what no blimp.
So… fuck it.

I try to self motivate, caffeine usually helps out, gets me ready and pumped for the day, and sometimes chatting with Nigel or Gonzo helps out a bunch. But those chats are rare.

Annnnnd that was disappointing. So, let’s knock this out, or something, because now i’ve got shit piling up in my brain pan that’s worth venting about or something, and yes, fuck the time and dates about when the various part of this fucking thing were updated, because if there’s one thing I love, IT FUCKING INCONSISTENCY. Or incompetence.
Maybe incontinence?
Continents?
Fuck it, inconsistent incompetence incontinence stricken continents.
So, basically, a bunch of disorganized, dumb fucks who can’t control their shitting forming a country.

I know what companies going to skyrocket to the top!

Anyways, Peak 19 is here, and so are new hires, and THERE ARE A TON popping into work everyday, and some of them are memorable, and others are… well, slightly less memorable.
Yesterday, for instance, there were a few Day 1’s trying to open their lockers, Helena and… the other one, wish I’d gotten her name. Anyways, Helena was a bit more memorable because… just holy shit, she just was, they were both having trouble opening their lockers so I helped them out.
nothing special, just something to help them along, y’know?
First gal, Helena, short black gal, based on her energy level, I’d say between 18 and 24, thin frame, glasses, gauges in her ears, frosted tips,  short hair, I’m guessing she works in In/Outbound.
Second gal, didn’t get her name, roughly the same description, no glasses, either Caucasian or Latina, no gauges, just a bit shy,  they were both awesome.
The reason why I say they were both memorable is because there was something unique about them, something interesting, eye catching, a character unique to themselves.
True, there are tons of people I work with that are memorable, each with their own traits that stand out from the rest of the crowd, and I might start talking about them more, because… I don’t know, I seriously need to start blogging more…
Seems like the safest route, or at least, I’m thinking it’s the safest route for me to keep my own energy up.
But the reason the second gal was so interesting was she asked what my gmail was… normally, no one would bat an eye, but she… something caught her eye.
Kinda interesting in a way.

Outside of that, things are going well, because of Peak the managers popped into every department to make sure every part of the place was staffed to account for what I’m assuming is the safe guarding of productivity, so I was placed on 2nd floor Jackpot, and told to singulate the unsingulated. Which is less a really horrifying sex act involving two hornets nests and a pile of half melted Lego bricks and more making sure that the work pops in lengthwise, with no side by sides, and the stickers facing up.
Which, first time around, didn’t know what I was doing, the second time, nailed it LIKE A BAWS.

First half score: .20 percent, only a hundred boxes made it through. I have a feeling that it would’ve been a bit lower had I made sure all the stickers were up. But that’s a REALLY good score, considering the second half was 200 boxes, and I was thinking, dudes and dudettes need to step up their game. So, I’m predicting I might get staffed there again for either first or second half, depends on what’s going down.
One of the newer Jammers, Gonna call her D, who was staffed in the Singulators, got bored of it. She’s used to popping about, talking, doing her own thang. I dunno, kind of disappointed, but Jamming’s not for everyone, are the benefits to Jamming? Yeah, you get to learn about another aspect of the FC that you had no clue about.
Is it draining, yes.
But is the trade off worth it?
Fuck yas.

Everyone starts off White Badge, no exceptions, no matter where they staff you, everyone starts in the basics and then you work your way up. For me, it was receiving, I worked my ass off, got booped to Water spidering, worked my ass off there and eventually knocked out an application to Jam team, made the cut, learned the lay of the land rather quickly, learned a few other aspects, kept motivated, kept knocking out work. Caught the eyes of the peeps that needed a few good workers, and so on and so forth.
Will I eventually knock out Learning Ambassador? Yes, I want to, love teachings others, filling up their intellectual gas tanks with the rocket fuel of the gods!

Eventually, I want to make P.A, but I’m kind of hesitant about it, you see, being PA means early starts and late stops, meaning I’d have to find someway of getting to work earlier, not to mention data management and information analytics. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m all for all of that, and my shit was on point when it came to knocking notes down during the three day course.
But i needed that information to sink the hell in. Passing the class, not what I’m interested…. actually, yes. I need to stop taking the easy route and stimulate my brain in a way to the point where I feel fulfilled, I feel motivated and excited to try and light up some part of my brain with new information. Because at the moment, I’m just focusing on the physical part, and like any body, there are two sides, the central nervous system and the physical body. One can’t function without the other, ain’t possible, you can either be a really strong dumb ass or Stephen Fucking Hawking.
But to get the best of both worlds?
Y’need to be a really strong Stephen Fucking Hawking.

One more thing, so in regards to the above mentioned really strong Stephen Hawking, there’s a massive dude, named Mark, maybe eight or nine years older then me, the dude is fucking ripped, like diamonds edge ripped, ripped so hard he looks like a PS1 character made physical manifest. The later years, not… just shut the fuck up.
The dude’s a PA and really fucking ripped, the best of both worlds, so he’s just… fucking ripped.

Okay, in regards to an earlier part, Yes, Jam is awesome, y’get some tech on the floor, stay mobile, and get shit done.
Can it be an isolating thing? Yes.
the point being if you keep yourself motivated, occupied, focused on something during the down time, then you can knock it out like a snapped fart in an elevator.

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.

Well, I’m annoyed. Maybe.

There’s something to be said about being annoyed.
Maybe it’s the fact I personally have no fucks to give?
Or maybe it’s because there are so many shit titles to great articles that everything’s either “OMG SO INSANE!” Or, “Donald Trump’s NOT going to like this!”
who give’s a fucking shit about that kind of thing, not to mention I got a auto generated spam email from a ‘Hacker’ AND… it’s STUPID, MILDLY INCONVENIENT, and I keep losing track of when I have the caps lock on… Kind weird how that whole thing plays out. But, rather then get into a whole idiotic rant about how the whole of the idiotic world can go fuck itself with ten cactus patches, I’m going to tell the world at large to go fuck off with this inane idiotic bullshit that simply pops up.

Okay, guess I know what I’m focused on today, this should be fun. I’m not that worried about things that annoy me as much anymore. After going through what I’ve been through, not much bothers me anymore. Do I sometimes get confused? Yes. Do I forget shit all the time?
Of course.
Do I give idiots the time of time simply because they’re idiots?
Not all the time, but everyone needs to feel special at one point.

Point being, cycle of stupid repeating itself, over and over, minor changes, blah fucking blah.
Or maybe I’m just irate over something that’s out of my control, and my writing this out is the only way I feel like I have some as-semblance of control?

I honestly don’t know. It’s almost like I forgotten how to be myself since meeting so many people, and maybe it’s a bit confusing because I haven’t had the opportunity to figure myself out yet?
I mean, I have, to a point, though not to the point where I can simply be myself. Well, I can be myself to a point, I’m kind of a people pleaser, but I need to step up the protesting bit…. I like pop-tarts, they’re pretty cool. Sometimes I’ll just snack on them, two at a time!

Work related stuff… So, yeah.

for two reasons this is going to suck, this first being I’ve got a blister on my middle finger, which ironically enough, is a big “Fuck you!” to myself while I attempt to write this. The other, simply put, is that I don’t update this enough.

Work is going fine, though people are getting antsy about conversions, with Inbound getting the first picks, the newest guys having priority, and time moving forward for those almost dangerously close to not making  the guidelines for conversions, it’s easy to see why.
Myself?
Meh, I figure I’d just not get excited over it just yet, I just need to keep check my email to see what’s going on, and even then, I know  that it’s just a matter of time. I have 0.5 points, no write ups, my rates been great, and I have a good report with nearly everyone at work. So, maybe I’m good?
Fuck it, I am.
Everything that’s been told to me so far, we’re in the running for it, so why bother worrying about a thing in the fog you can’t see? Seriously, until the thing is right in front of you, and you can see it’s a thing, no need to worry, just keep on keeping on!

The last couple of shifts have been pretty interesting, I’ve been shadowed by one of the week 1’s, Gilbert, a former Chef for 20 years. Gil is fucking amazing, quick learner, pick’s up on thing’s fast, is a bad ass motherfucker on all accounts, and pretty much the shit now that I’ve trained him in the art of WaterSpidering. He and I get along great, and we’ve got a wavelength going on, every once in a while I’ll pop him a tip or two, but the man’s intelligent, he’s not a kid, so I treat him like a man, and we’re both better off for it.
I’m kind of thankful that he was assigned as my shadow, I can get kind of lonely WaterSpidering, so these passed few days have been a blessing in disguise, you know?

Anyways, I’ll talk with Y’all later, just wanted to keep things rolling with this. Spend nearly 100 on a blog, damned well be using the fucking thing, am i right?

Fuck you forever, @realDonaldTrump

So… We’re doing this… Again.
I feel so… so happy.
Really.
I mean, let’s get the big thing out of the way, the Woodward and Mueller reports… Like, holy shit dude, first, y’didn’t want the job, then you fucked us over by taking hte job y’didn’t want, and than you fucked yourself by doing a terrible fucking job of the job you never wanted, and NOW you’ve fucked your whole family name by staining it so badly, even thatl ittle fucker from the Grudge ain’t touching your shit.
Can we please talk about the more obvious:
Your ass.
Deathrow.
2020 unrelelection.
Like, you do realize you’ve fucked yourself SO hard by not releasing your taxes right?
RIGHT!?
Not in the, “Well, there’s a dead hooker.” Fucked over, but the, “Well, there’s a dead hooker, the cops just burst in, and I’m still fucking the corpse.” kind of plain ol fucked.
You are beyond ever measure of doubt, a guilty as fuck person, BANNED from campaigning in 33 states because you won’t release your taxes.
Think hard on that, there are ONLY 51 states in the union, and you’ve fucked yourself SO hard, you don’t even stand a chance of winning 33 states without outside help, so… I hope russia is looking at this and going, “We need more potato power!” because unless putin sticks his dick in your ass again, you ain’t winning shit this time around.
And again, let’s bring your supportters into this fray again, because I don’t thinkyou think very much of them, unless their spinning rims and gold plated diamoinds, you think so little of them, really you do. your whole life was spent working from nothing to inheriting your dads money and getting bailed out so many times, it makes me think you’re actively running this country at a permanent loss, because god damned.
I stopped faulting your supporters the moment they realized what the fuck you were doing, and started faulting you directly.
Because, you’re false advertising.
You’re the fine print on a medication no one except the racist ignorant twats asked for.
You’re the exposed, hidden nazi, and we all know this to be true.
I actively empathize with your support base, they knew what they were getting into, and yet, they still stuck a fork in the outlet and were surprised at thep ain they’ve been feeling ever since.
Go ahead and lie to yourself that you’ll be fine, because you really will not be.
the law is like water, patient, still, powerful.
You, are the jackass trying to slap the flood away.
Pointless. Idiotic. Tragic.

I wish I had more anger saved up, more rage, more unkempt disgust at the very fabric of your being, but I don’t. Not after understanding the slug of a person you are.
And nah, I in’t pointing out examples, people want specifics, they can read other things, me? I’m a reactionary guy, splash damage be skull fucked with a cactus.
i’m just angry enough to point out the obvious and just lame enough not giving a fuck to publish this.

Fuck, I’m so god damned sore.

I’m back, I guess. Okay, so fuck it, I am back, but for good fucking reason! I’m fucking sore as fuck because they need their fav water spider to collect all the shit, do all the things, and basically be the annoying as fuck voice of “WAKE UP!” because these ten hour shifts?
Oh my god, let me tell you about these fucking ten hour shifts OH MY FUCKING GOD I CAN BARELY GET A POST OUT WITHOUT GETTING FUCKING DISTRACTED BY SOME ANNOYING AS SHIT THING!

But let’s head back to then ice, friendly neighborhood of what the actual fuck.
So, I’ve got no problem helping out where I’m needed, I knock out the rate for the week, I’ am beautiful to help out where I’m needed, go do the things, knock everything out, but yesterday!?
Yester-fucking-day?
There were just four of us. Fucking four.
And one of us had to get audited, or something like that, so it’s all good.
But, holy shit.
We needed that woman, to help ease our burdens, I mean, yeah, three of us knocked that shit out like no tomorrow, and we did get a lot of things done, but it seemed every five minutes we were switching between Down Stack, Tetris, tote Inject, Work Inject, ATAC sweeping, Prep sweeping, Tote boosting, and everything else, and after hour 6 I was just waiting for the damned thing to go balls up!

I ain’t mad, just how I write, and it was a bit stressful you know? But, with my friends, Co-Workers, and a shit ton of caffeine, I knocked the day out and repeatedly kicked it in the balls. I woke up, so woke, and so fucking sore, holy fucking shit, I wished to fucking god, they just let me receive that day, because I was in so much pain from the last two hours of it all, I mean, four lines went into AGL, and god damned, people needed to work the fuck faster, I get it, y’like to talk, talking’s great, but at the same time, the reason we went into AGL in the first place is because there were people there who simply just did not give a shit, or were picking only the good boxes!

Like, really?
Fucking really?
I’m out there, busting my ass, taking every single fucking box that passes by my station, and you, like a fuck nut, need to next level cherry pick that shit? What the utter fuck!
I had this one gal, tiny, adorable, and … just the sweetest thing ever, tell me to get her a golden tape wrapped box, and I’m in the middle of making sure the damned line gets some fucking space on it, I’m thinking fuck no, get back to work, let me do my thing!
But, I’m not a dick, so I did the perfectly balanced, I simply moved the box to a place on the line that wasn’t so crowded.
I mean, someone else got the box, of course, and her friend was laughing her ass off, but I had work to do, so I did it. If I’m working, I’m focused on that work only. I don’t take shit from no one, and if there’s a perfectly great reason why you want to do things a certain way, I am more than happy to let you do your day, but let me know and I’ll make sure that you do your thing, that way, both our days are amazing.

Outside of that, I had a pretty standard day, got a lot of work done, stayed focus, talked to people when the work flow was a little low, but over all, I stayed busy. Today’s the final boss of the week, so I’ve got to make double my usual mix, I’m getting better at saving my money, and I’ve set a budget for myself, so I’m getting enough together for a deposit, which has been a bit hard, but I’m knocking it out, still need to find a decent place, and save up about four more weeks, so 550/week, that’s about 1,600 to 2,100, enough for the deposit, and a buffer zone for other expenses as well. So that’s the goal… 2,100 in the account. If I can save up that much, I’ll be golden, and won’t have to worry about much.

Well, that’s enough from me, despite how everything reads, I’m having a lot of fun during this mini-peak, and Prime Day is popping around the corner, so it’s good practice for when things heat up again, I’ll just be happy to have my Sundays back… dear god, I’m so fucking tired…. But, hopefully, when I’ve got my own place, I’ll be happy as shit, and be able to post vids again without hesitation…

Fuck, it’s been a while since I’ve written a proper blog…

Although, what the hell is a proper blog post? Is it a collection of like minded thoughts?
Because, you know, if that’s the case, than I am properly fucked. I don’t think I’ve ever had a series of like minded thoughts, just a bunch of confused bullshit that people are like, “HA! Shweet.”
And you know what? I’m fine with that. I’m fine with being in a world in which my channel flippy brain gets confuzzled halfway through a thought and decides that buttercream screaming butterflies are the perfect valentines day gift, for the person you REALLY fucking hate.
And, you know, I’m not blind to my underuse of exclamation points, really!

Today I want to talk about love. And Workplaces.
And amazon.
And the holy shit storm of why either their a good thing or a bad thing, or maybe I’ll just continually switch topics, because I’m a rebellious bastard and you love me for that.
“Today, we’re talking puppies and the monster trucks who love them. Way too much.”
Yeah, so strap in for some enlightened as fuck shit, because this god damned thing is filled to the brim with swearing and clown beastiality referees. I meant to write that.

Yesterday, we got put in 5S, and me being me, I began to draw, something I do to pass the time. One of my friends then asked me a bunch of questions, some personal, others not, most I can’t remember, but she was cool.
Then my other friend, Karen, Who I think might have a crush on me? I don’t like to assume anything anymore, I just leave it up to the winds of chance and whatever seems to be going on that day to figure shit out, also talked to me about my drawing, and we got to talking for a while, and it was a pretty good conversation, filled with ups and downs, twists and turns, and you fucking hate the fact I’m not giving you the deets!
Well, I can’t remember the deets, so we’re pretty much in the same boat here.

Anyways, i leave to go to the bathroom, come back, and I get snagged into Water Spidering, which is indirect work, but still critical, for Prep… And for about 40% I would say, I knocked things out of the park, I kept tote lines going, swept, moved pallets and cages, just in general, was an amazing beast of burden. Or unburdening, that’s like an Anti-Donkeh, right?

There was this one woman, really tiny, like, ridiculously small, looks almost like a kid, but she isn’t. She doesn’t talk much, but she’s got an amazing smile, which, hey, bonus points for getting her to smile! Anyways, she’s a sweet person, much luck to her in whatever she chooses to do in life.

Meanwhile, i’m apartment hunting, I’ve got my eyes set on a place or two, as well as the bedding needed to make sure I conserve as much space as possible, and was kind of blown away by the fact there’s a triple bunk bed, like, holy shit people! A triple bunk bed! that’s like witnessing a majestic Unicorn horn fuck a leperchaun right through the face, while the little fuckers barfing gold bars! I mean, yeah, it’s a bunk bed, but a fucking triple!?

Jesus fucking christ.

Oh, I also made my first communion.
Every once in a while I’ll still upload a video or two, but I haven’t been as interested in it. Growing my channel has become annoying as fuck, and I just decided, fuck it, not going to bother. I are there people who’ll enjoy my stuff? Maybe, I’ll never know.. I get just a bit depressed thinking about it, too many trolls, or algorithms or whatever, or maybe I just upload bad content, fuck if I know or care anymore. While there are peeps out there, my hearts just not in it anymore. That’s the long and short of it now a days. My hearts not in making vids anymore, and it’s not making me any money, so why should I bother?

Yeah, there was for the enjoyment of it, but constant criticism about the whole thing has whittled away at my enthusiasm for it, and until I get my own place, I don’t think I’ll be able to really get back into it. Things change over time, needs change,

It’s been a minute or two, hasn’t it?

So, let’s dial back the weird as fuck shit for a second and talk about what’s going on in my neck of the woods, why?
because obviously, what’s happening with me is INFINITELY MORE ENTERTAINING THAN WHATEVER WEIRD BULLSHIT I KEEP COMING UP WITH.

That was way too many Caps in the sentence, I seriously only meant to have the infinitely in caps and nothing else.
Okay, so I’ve been working the night shift at Amazon again, which is AMAZING, because for the first time, I’m not completely screwing the pooch, my rates up, I’m regularly talking to hot chicks with no intention flirting with them (kay, I lied, maybe a little. Come on, they’re hot chicks!), I made friends with a Little Person, and he is AWESOME, and almost everyday, EVERYDAY, there’s been a shortage of work because of how great both Day and Night shifts been.

But therein lies the problem, Amazon keeps hiring on new people, despite the lack of work… So does this mean we’re looking at another Mass Hire/Fire situation, where after a few months, they’re going to let us go? hopefully not, took me long enough to snag this one again.

The reason I’m asking, is because there was a strange announcement at stand up, part of one of the programs they’ve got set up, to transfer to other locations, and I’m starting to understand why now, but at the same time, I’m not going to worry about it. Or should I?

With the increasingly apparent lack of work coming in, and more early leaving times, maybe we’re doing our jobs too well? Or is it that there’s going to be a new Cross dock location opening up soon, so more work is being sent over there and we’re being left with the overflow? I dunno, but it is a bit worrying to say the least. And I’m just spinning my wheels here on the subject, there could be a whole bunch of things I could be getting wrong here…

Anyways, nuff about that!

What else is happening?
Oh, right!
For about a week or so, my brain’s been stuck on the idea that fish are naked.
And they are.
But, my best bud Blake pointed out they aren’t.
Know why?

They’re dressed to the gills!

I know, completely stupid, but it’s the best connection i’ve made, but really. Fish are naked.
also preordered MK 11, I’m not great at fighting games, but I’ve been wanting to play Mortal Kombat again for some time, and 11 seems like a pretty good jumping point. There are a few characters that are Rushers, Zoners, and just plain Combo machines, so it’ll be cool to fuck around in practice mode to try and knock something out. 
I still haven’t finished Skyrim, I think I’m nearing the end of the main story, which is great, since in each Bethesda free roam game, I manage to kill off nearly all the not needed NPCs in the first go around, find the exploits, become suped up, and go on a in game murder spree the likes THAT instance of the game universe has never seen.
Smash Brothers still has my attention, mainly for the multiplayer aspect.
Splatoon 2 simply got boring.
Brawlhala has its moments.
I don’t bother with Onigiri anymore. Soon as it got to the “O NOEZ ANIME GIRL IN TROUBLE!” Trope, I stopped playing. I dunno know I’ve got trouble getting passed the whole “Strong Female Protagonist” thing, I personally think it’s great. Maybe it’s just a displacement of the previously natural story telling gender roles? where the male was the strong one, the female was the smart one, and the villains were just dumb asses with too much time on their hands and not enough porn?
Shit, I think that’s what Evil’s problem is just in general.
They can’t get laid, i mean, sex solves all the worlds problems, if just temporarily.
But, I’ve noticed the change myself in my own editing of Sogno Della Dinastia, with Divertenti Della Amuleto focusing on the female main character, I kind of have to make that shit work out, and so far, it’s doing a pretty good job of it.

speaking of writing, and snapping back to work, whenever there’s been a lag of work and I’ve had some time, a pen, and some scrap of paper laying around, I’ve drawn a quick picture, and started scribbling notes on it like a madman. Story plotting is kind of relaxing, breaking away from just standing there, feels like I’m recharging my batteries or something of the like.
So far, I’ve knocked of two of the little darlings:
”Azmael and the Chest of the Forever Coaled”
”Felix Hogbuny goes on Vacay”

Fun little exorcises.
Lets see, what else?

Oh, right, mah carpool buds, Paul, Joseph, and John.
Paul I’ve known for a while since Peak ‘18, great guy, passionate about work, we connect amazingly. Paul’s also a Gamer, which is awesome, since I like gaming too, and we sometimes talking about gaming. Yes, that was a dumb sentence. No, I’m not erasing it. Yes, you’re stuck with it. He’s got an amazing family, and really, that’s all I’m saying on that front.
Joseph? Also a great guy, has a faster sense of humor, good taste in music, likes to ask me random questions, and overall, he’s got a lot going for him! He too, Kicks the ass at work. That was worded weirdly. Joseph is… hard to explain exactly. He’s super intelligent, and I think it might be the super coffee wearing off at this point, but, yep, super intelligent. We all work well together, yeah, definitely the coffee wearing off.
John? Super chill guy, doesn’t say much, but doesn’t really need to when at work or when it’s just us carpooling. When the Turtles are carpooling? different story all together, the dude quips amazingly. We get along amazingly, and i’m going to have to write more about the other two just to give them all equal page time…
I call us the Turtles because we each encompass a different personality type.
Paul’s definitely Leonardo.
Joseph’s Donatello.
John’s Raph, he’s got a little bit of fire in him.
And I’m Michelangelo. Why? Mikey’s been my favorite. Also, I’m writing the post, so I’m Mikey.

Whatelse? Nothing of note, just been doing my own thing… Yes, I’m cutting this short.
Why?
The super coffee is wearing off, and I’m kind of getting bored of writing the post, plus, I’m hungry. Oh, so fucking hungry for breakfast. Not to mention, the more I write, the more I’ll have to edit. Peace!
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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…

Women… Phhh

First off, y’all… are strange as fuck.
And, here’s why that’s a good thing.
you are innovators.
you are geniuses.
you are teachers.
You are muses.
you are inspiration.
You are literally the engine that keeps humanity going, and yes, talking about crotch stuff. Well, belly… you know what I’m talking about. TALKIN’ BOUT EJECTING A TINY HUMAN FROM CROTCH HOLE AFTER FUN FUN TIME!
Men are just as insecure about mating as women are about men being insecure about mating.
Here’s the thing, and fun with girl logic memes:
A gal, hanging around with some guy friends, in some cases, has to claim she has a boyfriend, (I said in SOME cases) so that any potential annoying flirts will be knocked away, like a fluffy cat, batting at a piece of string. The string of hope, it dangles. Like old man balls. Bat, fluffy cat, bat.
Getting off track, I honestly have no fucking clue where I was going with this, needless to say, it’s hard for me to transition from friend to boyfriend, because then I get caught up in what’s allowed versus not allowed because then it’s a whole new ballgame, and I’d rather meet someone new with the sole intention of getting with them, and while the friends first thing works out a ton, it just confuses the fuck out of me, because if things don’t work out, and I’m sending you the “go ahead” signal, but you don’t send it back, wtf does the mean?
Try harder?
Stop trying?
Eat at Joe’s?
Where the fuck is Joe’s?
What do they serve?
Are there annoying yelp reviews that I can make fun of?
Most importantly, with women, in this day and age, dating is fucking terrifying, because ya don’t know how the gal is going to react, what the hell is going through her head, and more importantly, what the percentage of success you’re going to have is, I’m not talking how often is it going to end up in sex, I’m simply talking getting to the next date and so on and so forth, especially with the ingrained perception that YOU MUST HAVE AT LEAST THIS MUCH TO EVEN QUALIFY FOR A DATE!
And even then, it’s a fucking mystery as to which women will reply to what messages in what style and that’s another set of SHERLOCK BOOKS THAT TAKES YEARS TO GET THROUGH and the whole time you’re thinking to yourself, ‘The fuck. Could be at home watching porn!’
But nooooooo!
That’s always the wrong answer, porn is never the right answer, unless the question being asked is “How many feathers can I get away with?”
But now you’re just focusing on the feathers instead of the date and that’s how you wind up ordering the Chicken when you REALLY just wanted the steak!

See!?
See what I mean!?
Now I want more chicken.
So, in short, dating is fucking terrifying, I want more chicken, and women are the perpetual motion machines of humanity, because you help slap the stupid out of men. Also, my cat has a furry monoboob… need to get that thing checked out.

Hello, my name is Morgan, I’m the DOVAHKIN!

Buuuut, that’s not what I’m going o talk about, afterall, it’s my blog, so whoop there it is! Happy Valentines day you sexy fucks.
There, did it.
Anyways, today I wanted to let you know what I’ve been up to, not talking about any kinds of heavy topics which will unnaturally devolve into a kind of idiot soup, as… Most of my blogs eventually do and I’ve already forgotten what it is I’m writing about because things and animals keep interrupting me. Fan fucking tastic.
I think given the blog pattern of each post, this is exactly what happens, I start in on a topic, and then, in one glorious moment of temporary self reflection I say to thee, “FUCKETH IT, I SHALL GOETH DOETH SOMETHING ELSETH!” And I know that’s not how it works out, but, let’s stay focused here.
Lately, I’ve been playing a SHIT TON OF SKYRIM for the Nintendo Switch, and I am fucking addicted…
To slaughtering every killable NPC and making game breaking weapons and armor that one shot most enemies like a son of a bit and making ridiculously leveled skill jumps, exploring new lands, murder punching every stupid face there till I get bored of murder punching people right in their stupid fucking faces, rinse and repeat.
But, I’ve done the murder punching bit OVER AND OVER AND OVER and THIS time around, I’ve actually started playing the game, or, at least, I will when I get the following enchantments on my gear:

Helm:
Magika
Magika Regen

Neck:
Barter
Lockpicking

Body:
Health
Resist Disease

Glove:
Carry Weight
Pickpocket

Ring:
Alchemy
Smithing

Boot:
Stamina
Sneak

Argonian Race Trait:
waterbreathing

(12 hours later. Not kidding, I got distracted by skyrim.)

So my thinking on this is that the Argonians, or skyrim’s version of the LIZARD PEOPLE are the only race in the game with natural Water Breathing, cause they’re fuckin’ Lizards. So, with enchanting at Level 100, that gives me access to Extra effect which allows me to put two enchantments on an item, therefor giving me 12 slots to put enchantments, so, use the Fortify Restoration glitch to make some fucking powerful potions, (we’re talking in the 200 billion percentile range here) enchant a set with fortify Alchemy, make a fortify Enchanting potion, and knock all those listed things out, though I am considering swapping out health for health Regen, because if my health is too high, or it doesn’t show the health increased by -10,000,000 or so, then the moment I take that gear off, I die. horribly.
My logic with the carry weight is that, well, I loot shit all the time, I’m a fucking thief in Skyrim, so I need my sneak, lock picking, and pickpocket to be fucking insane, and with INFINITE STAMINA my ass can run from one part of the map to the next without needing to take a break!
I think I spend nearly all my free time playing skyrim, mainly doing the Item Duplication glitch, which strangely enough, only seems to work in Whiterun, one of the first cities you come across.
I’ve tried playing the game normally, and for me, there is no normal way to play.
“But, YOU’RE RUINING THE GAME!” Am I?
for who, exactly?
you?
You aren’t playing my game, you’re playing a COPY of the game, so you play however YOU want, and I’ll play however I want. All I know is that my last five playthroughs ended with me slaughtering every killable NPC I came across and brutalizing the ones that couldn’t be killed. I must’ve killed nearly eight thousand guards alone.
So, this play through, I chose to play as an Argonian male named Dethbite. Because of course I did. I chose his coloring to be as bright as possible, why? Because in nature, in the wild, reptiles that have bright and beautiful coloring on their scales are known to be deadly as fuck.
And it’s fun as hell.
I would’ve played as one of the Elf or human races, but something about a Lizard man running around, shouting every city, hold, and farm to absolute death is just too fucking funny.
Should’ve named him Godzilla, LMAO.
Besides, I really want to one shot dragons, so that’s why I need smithing, ALTHOUGH I could just find the Absorb health enchantment and go fucking nuts on that, and somehow, in the last playthrough, i found something with the chaos enchantment, which has all three elemental attacks in it, and can literally fuck anyone’s day up. In a heartbeat.

(13 hours later. Again, not kidding.)

Update: I spent the better part of last night knocking out that level 100 Enchanting skill, and IT WAS WORTH IT. Got my carry weight up to 311 million, my health up to 200 million, and my stamina up to …. I don’t even know, but so far everything’s coming together like a BEAST! I’m so excited! Also, found an Alchemist in Markarth that I can’t outright kill. Which is a good thing, at least Bethesda had the foresight to make one of the little bastards unkillable.
This means she’s got a quest line, this also means she has a shit ton of alchemy ingredients that I can snag and clone like crazy to find every little combination, which is goooooooood.
I’ve also lost another Mercenary, so I’ve decided to get one of the unkillable NPC’s as my follower, which thank fucking god for that, because I found something out!
NPCs usually have a max carry weight of around 350 or so when trading items with them, BUT, if you simply have them pick items UP then they have no carry limit, so long as it’s one item at a time when doing the Duplication glitch.
right, also forget to add one or two things to that little bastard.
1. The trick to resetting the Item Dupe glitch is to go out and come back into the alcove again, but pick the items up yourself, this is especially useful if you want to place the items in another spot.

2. You don’t need to take the whole shebang of items from the follower to increase the number of items you want to clone, instead, take a max of 15 from them, and add it to the pile in the alcove, and just keep repeating this as needed, it saves a lot of time, and you actually end up knocking out a shit ton more picking everything up. Spent nearly an hour knocking out Gold Ingots, and I might just do the same for all the other items Craftables and whatnot.

Anyways, sorry for the late post, I just get incredibly distracted with other things. And I’ve been having trouble figuring out what to write about, so I figured I might as well write about whatever’s in front of me. And yes, before this gets preachy and idiotic- oh shit, too late- here’s something related to women:

I once asked an ex girlfriend if having boobs made standing up a challenge. She replied by asking how many times hurt mah balls just by walking. The lesson of the story being, that both PHYSICAL genders (fuck you for making me specify.) develop in ways that allow for… something… Optimum physiological development?
I mean, if that were true, women’d be able to shoot quills out of their breasts and ass cheeks as a self defense measure, and guys would have developed a bone covering for their balls, as well as a spine and tiny ribcage for their dicks.
Alrighty, nuff nightmare fuel, no matter how kinky the porcupine fetish might seem, probably not worth it.
I mean, “Pintits” would probably be a better movie series than “Hellraiser” right?

Ball is life, but ball should not be life.

Just remember:
Ball is Life.
But, Ball should not BE Life.

What is the ball in your life?
The thing that you can’t resist going after when it’s thrown in front of you?
Netflix?
Facebook posts?
Clickbaity videos?
Gaming?
VTO?
Sex?
We all have a ball in our life, and much like the retriever, we can’t help but go after it, but at what point does it stop being just “Fetching the ball” and more letting the ball fetch us?
I struggled with this for a long time, and much like the dog playing fetch, I went after gaming like a madman, I’d spend days just playing the same game to death until I either got a new one or finished that one.
“Ball is life” isn’t just a meme to some people, it’s an addiction, a thing they can’t help not separating themselves from, merely because it’s thrown in front on them.
One of the many balls I’ve become resistant to fetching is gaming. Right now, I’ve my Switch right next to me in it’s dock, just sitting there. I know that I could be playing it right now, enjoying some time in either Smash Brothers Ultimate or Fortnite (fun game BTW) but really, I know that getting some game time in wouldn’t really be productive to my time. I’ve got a blog to run, and maybe sometime in the future,getting back to writing Sogno Della Dinastia.
What’s the Ball in your life?

Another “Ball is Life” story.
I’m a youtuber, and I used to upload Videos every chance I got, we’re talking every half hour, just whip out the phone, record a quick video, post it, and forget about it, lol! And I used to knockout shoutouts every 30 seconds on Vine, Twitter, and the such. That was my Ball, and the shout out requests were the people playing fetch with me.
At some point I realized that I didn’t need to fetch the ball all the time, that I could be a good Doggo just by fetching the Ball well enough to satisfy myself, and let whatever happens happens.
I learned that not everything on my mind needed to be said, or recorded, and for a while it went very much against my own instincts, grating against my own impulsiveness to reach new Subscribers or followers.
Now, working for Amazon, there’s a new, mandatory Ball, getting making over 100 on my rate. i’m still fetching the Ball, but now it’s because i’m getting paid to do it, and this ball? I like fetching it.

But, I’m not going to let the Ball become my life. I want you to know that this post was inspired by a number of people and situations, across a good number of years. That no one thing is the core reason for this post being written.

Just remember:
Ball is Life.
But, Ball should not BE Life.

More intelligent than a dumb ass next to a switch

I walk in, do my thing, go to the sink to wash my hands, and the dude slides out like he’s Kramer from Seinfeld, like, “HEY YA JERRY! I’VE GOTTA TELL YA SOMETHING!”

Yeah, I fucking swear, UHMAHGAWD leave me alone~ Or some other weird bullshit like that, I dunno, maybe I do? Either way, we’s gon’ get drunk annnnnnnnnd blog. About random bullshit, I like mac n cheese, but not the kind of mac n cheese that’s mac n cheese. I’m fucking hipster like that, or not, fuck those idiots that claim to like things BEFORE they were cool. And Yeah, I know, old gripe, but can we PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF FUCKING GOD, make the other days of the week food related? We’ve already got Taco Tuesday.
So let’s have Menudo Monday, Waldorf Salad Wednesday, Turkey Thursday, Fuckfoods Friday, you know? food that you eat after you have a good fuck, like shit you REALLY want to eat right after sex, I’m talking the kind of food that you just want to chow down on right after you get done chowing down on. Me?
Personally? A bowl of fucking lucky charms! Like, fuck yeah!
They’re magically delicious because SO AM I DAMMIT!
It’s all good. My cat is proving once again, that they do indeed rule the universe, because while i’m writing this, she’s doing everything in her power to role on my keyboard. So, every sentence is like a battle of wills between my wanting to knock out a post, and her wanting me to pet her. MOTHERFUCKER, I AM A GOD DAMNED BLOGGER, let me do this shit. I’ll give you scratchings behind the ears later.
Like a goddamn boss.

I’ve been working for Amazon for what seems like forever now, and I’m getting used to the flow of the same damned thing almost everyday, there’s there far away prospect of getting Blue Badged, at least, it seems like a far away prospect, in truth I’m not really sure when they’ll offer, but there are constant whispers of it up and down the lines, in the break room, and pretty much in the one bathroom stall that’s always occupied by the same guy.
No fucking joke.
Every single day, same stall, same guy.
I walk in, do my thing, go to the sink to wash my hands, and the dude slides out like he’s Kramer from Seinfeld, like, “HEY YA JERRY! I’VE GOTTA TELL YA SOMETHING!”
Funniest damned thing since it’s usually a PA, KBS, or AM, depending on the day, and what they felt like doing at the time. There’s two times where they have the departments gather called stand up, and it’s not that interesting, basically it goes:
1. People gather around.
2. Stretching.
3. any tips from the audience, (I usually get ignored, no matter how loud I am.)
4. Who to give props to. (also get ignored)
5. The mad rush to get to a station.

During any one of these portions, people are always talking, and the PA’s can BARELY be heard on the speaker system they’ve got set up, it’s the weirdest fucking feeling in the world. SEPS was the same way, only except people were fucked to speak during inspections. I almost kind of want Stand Up to be like inspections, just a little.

The job, love it, love everything about it. Made a few friends there, one of my best friends from work is also my ride, and lately, what we’ve been doing is going to a different place everyday. Sometimes the food’s great, sometimes it’s a bit lacking, but we try every place we can, and make the mad rush to get to work afterwards. Which is a treat in and of itself.
Because let it be known that there are fucking idiots on the road, who will drive twenty three fucking miles, with a god damned traffic cone stuck to the under carriage of their car, and it’s the funniest god damned thing in the world, like a car based unicorn with day glow viagra, it’s a god damned rarity.
Also a treat is the driver trying to constantly pass us if we’re going the speed limit and the dumb ass’s girlfriend starts taking a picture of the car? OH my fucking god, it’s… great!
Cause I flipped that dumbass off, and I’m kind of wondering what they were trying to get a picture of. But so far, so good, nothing new to report. We’re alos gaming buddies on the switch, which reminds me to snag Splatoon 2.

I just invented Nogfee

It’s so fucking disgusting, you have no idea, but it’s just kick in the fuccking pants I needed to write this shit out. I guess, I mean, I’m not one to judge that bag of goldfish over there, but I think it’s going to kill me in my sleep. Fucking young link in smash bros is probably the weirdest sentence I’ve ever written, though right NOW I’m not trying to direct my flow, just let it go where it will, you know? But that’s the thing, as soon as I say I’m doing one thing, my mind’s like, “NOT TODAY BITCHES!” And we start all over, which is fine and dandy I suppose, since working at amazon, is kind of like working for one of those weird out of the way gas stations, and dumb asses are always ordering the weirdest shit.
Face dildos, like, really? The only possible reason to want a double sided face dildo is if your kink is deep throating yourself while you head bang into your girls crotch. and if that shit’s going down?
Listen to lamb of God, very relaxing music.
Speaking of which, I think I just set up a hookup situation with an older co-worker who’s kinda out of shape…. Like… what the fuck. I’m not comfortable with this at all, since A, she just flat out texted me, “WYD… wantafuck?” And me, not wanting to be a dick replied, sure, why not? Look, I did not sign up for amazon to get laid, I work for amazon to get paid And yes, that’s a fucking rhyme, and I don’t lie, I got the flow to make this work and fuck my life I can’t stop.
Lately I’ve been listening to a lot of rap, and the strange fucking thing is that I’m pretty good at dropping the beat myself, and it’s scary what you lose in the process of it all. For every one thing you gain, you lose something else.

Annnnd fuck my life I just gave a coworker a link to my blog. Not the one mentioned above, different one.
Welllll, meh, fuck it. Sup my man! I know, right? WE’RE FUCKING VIKINGS! Which I guess is a better statement than WE’RE VIKINGS FUCKING! Or the following:
1. Vikings, we’re fucking.
2. Vikings! We’re fucking?
3. Vikings? We’re fucking!
4. Fucking? we’re Vikings.
5. Fucking. We’re Vikings?
6. Fucking! We’re Viking!
7. We’re fucking Vikings!
8. We’re fucking Vikings?
9. We’re fucking Vikings.
10. We’re fucking, Vikings.
11. we’re fucking, Vikings!
12. We’re fucking, Vikings?
And so on, so…. yup. It sometimes gets a little deep up in this bitch, and we all know that sometimes, you just have to dress a weiner dog up in a little adorable hotdog costume and let the little fucker run around a room filled with people stoned out there mind.
It will either wind up being the funniest thing you’ve ever seen, or maybe a horrifying case why you should never call a breed of dog, that naturally looks like a hotdog, a weiner dog. Yup.
Dark.
Like fucking batman.
Or even fucking Bruce Wayne on either Mother or Fathers day.
Shit’s just… y’know… fucked.
“MARTHA!”

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