Impermanence: With the pull of a trigger

I normally don’t do scripted videos anymore, I like to be unfocused, let my mind wander. But for some reason, I can’t let this one go.
Too many dead.
Too much anger.
Too much is too much.
I’ve written scripts for videos on Mass shootings before, with the clear sight on anger, or confusion, or wondering just what the fuck is actually going on, and most of the time, it started off with anger, and then popped into a kind of cooled down rage.
Friday, Brenton Tarrant, Australian, and a former Gym Teacher who felt lost with the ideology instilled in him by his parents and society at large, who then went from place to place, trying to find something, anything that would fill his spiritual and ideological needs, went from bad to worse and finally landed on the White Nationalist ideology, and then took it one step further.
He planned a massacre with two other men and one woman.
Before he went about his merry fucked up way, Brenton wrote an 87-page manifesto filled with intolerance, hatred, and plain old racism, with phrasing in tune with ISIS, referencing Donald Trump, and calling for people to Subscribe to Pewdiepie for maximum damage beyond the scope of what a pulled trigger could do.
He carried it out, shooting and killing 50 Muslims worshipping at two mosques in Christchurch and another in New Zealand, and wounding twenty others as well, live streaming the whole 17-minute debacle through a streaming service, posting it on 8chan, and from there, the footage just spread like wild fire.
Please know that I fucking hate Brenton Tarrant, and any other person like him, someone who has lost their damned fucking mind, unsatisfied with their life, and clearly out of their damned mind. Someone who feels they need to take the lives of others in order for their own life, in their mind, to have any kind of worth.
New Zealand had been, until recently, inoculated from mass shooters because of its relatively small size and because it happens to be an island nation, yes, I know, but for simplicity sake, I’m calling it a island nation.
My focus and the effects of coffee don’t last as long as they used it.
Never the less, the response has been amazing.
Not long after the shooting, footage cropped up of New Zealand law enforcements beating the utter fuck out of Brenton, as all Law enforcement has the right to do to Mass shooters. At least, in my opinion.
Look, this isn’t easy for me to write, let alone keep my focus on, but I will say this, I’m not going to be one of those people who think that by not saying the person’s name or talking about it, you’re going to make the problem go away.
Know what that’s called? Digging your head in the sand.
Being a fucking Ostrich.
Don’t be a fucking Ostrich
Talk about the issue, talk about what the utter fuck is on your mind, stop hiding your opinion because that’s what the shooters want, if you stop talking about it, stop communicating, then how will we learn how to prepare?
I’m not one to be ashamed of my words, well, not anymore, when I state the following:
These past twelve years, in the scope of the sheer number of shootings, have been fucking horrific. Kids, teens, adults, men, women, old, young, civilian, former military, I mean, will it ever end?
The short answer is, no.
Not until we go the drastic route is making and slow and horrifying example out of the next one. I won’t go into detail, but dear god I REALLY want to.
Fuck it, let’s do this shit.
I think, we should televise the execution of the shooter, not in the classic way, not by the merciful bullet to the head or lethal injection, no, no, no, no, nooooo my friends. I think we should sit them down, and ask them one simple question:
We’re they able to get away with it, using whatever tools they had made available to them, and let them take as much time as they wanted to take their targets apart, what would they do, how would they go about it, how long would they take to get it done?
And how they responded?
Do the exact same thing to them, as per their own disgusting instructions.
Take them apart, piece by piece, as if the executioner was a mechanic, disassembling a car down its very bolts. Happen upon them what they would happen upon their targets.
Televise that shit, make it the only thing on.
Force people to watch.
Send the message that those who commit such acts on innocent lives will be dealt with in the same fashion, and their last words of disgusting intent be the words of their own undoing, and their last words will be of their own screams being cut short by the final merciful act of slowly, ever so slowly twisting their heads till they screamed like rabbits being prepped for the pot, their cries for mercy and understanding falling on deaf ears as their victims cries for mercy fell deaf upon theirs.
Tell them, in their final moment, that loved ones will not greet them, nor god, nor the devil. That their minds shall simply cease to be, their brains will shut down, and everything they ever knew will be nothing. Their body will lie, cold and in the dirt to be feasted upon and turned to compost by insects, and eventually all record of who they were shall be erased.
Whatever impact they held in life, will weigh as nothing in death.
The point being, and needing to move on to the next point of interest here, is that idiots are going to be idiots. That seems like a watered-down version of the thing I want to know, and knowing me, I’m going to say it somewhere else, but we need to do something about the chaotically unwinding clock spring of the collective Human Psyche. It’s snapped, and it aint stopping, yes, it’s slowed down some, and yes, Donald trump with his brand of crazy is absorbing the majority of the blows from this thing, but we need to figure out a way of stopping it completely.
The usual news cycle is going to play out, that Brenton’s a white nationalist, something broke in his head, thoughts and prayers are going to be flung out from across the world, and HOPEFULLY New Zealand makes good on its promise to change its gun laws, and from there, things will go the route they usually do.
Sad, but true.
And I don’t write those words easily.
I write them, knowing full well that lives were lost, families torn apart, sons and daughters will grow up never hearing their father and or mothers’ voices again, mothers and or fathers, brothers and or sisters, husbands and or wives will continue living on with a great hole in their lives where there was once comfort and joy.
We need to do better.
All of us.
In whatever capacity we can.
We need leaders that aren’t afraid of insulting their base when a tragedy strikes.
We need condemnation of Nazis.

All that we are.
All that we were.
All that we will ever be.
Within 200 years after our initial passing, everyone connected to us, all our works, all stories of our descendants, will be as nothing. Simply dust in the wind.
Data never to be viewed again.
Words never to read.
Voices never to be heard.
Within 200 years, if we’re lucky, and we’ve lived a life worth living, we will be remembered for that one spark of ingenuity that made us memorable.
All other details? Gone, until rediscovered.
If it sounds like I’m sucking the philosophical dick right now, that’s because I am. The Mosque shootings have gotten me thinking about the importance of things, the greater meaning behind it all, it’s kick started something in my mind that won’t let go, no matter how much I want it to.
Back in my twenties, when I was wild, free, not tied down by the twelve ton chains of the truth of life in general, that all actions, all words, all story lines, have been repeated countless times by countless others in one way or another, I had so many different theories about how humanity continued to be.
About how our seemingly infinite variety of facial and body designs, were in fact very limited in scope, and the only difference between you and that other, at least a hundred, at most ten thousand, other people who look almost exactly like you or had the exact same thought, interest, likes, dislikes, fears, and or non-fears like you were limited to that scope, because at our hearts, at our very cores, within that subset of values, we’re simply copies of people that came before us, and they, copies of people who came before them.
Yet, despite our similarities, what we share both mentally and or physically, the ways in which we go about achieving those interests, overcoming those fears, the technology we have access to changes with every cycle.

We are fucking amazing.

And yet, with the simple snapping of a mind, the spiral into the darker parts of the basic, primal, savage, lizard section of the human mind.
With the planning of the deaths of those incorrectly perceived to be threats to our own personal safety.
With the purchasing of weapons capable of carrying out such plans.
With the initiating those plans, aiming of those weapons, and the pulling of the trigger to take out those incorrectly perceived as threats, and the ending of those same lives…
Those copies of humans who came before, at least that particular lineage, for that person, if they do not have kids…
that persons story will end.
A kind of metaphysical, “BEGONE THOT!” moment.
We are only temporary, but the impact, the weight of what we, they, he, or she will have left behind can be felt immensely, as if to say, “Hear our voice echo throughout this mighty chamber, though I may be gone and my life now forfeit, my deeds, my actions, will haunt the ones that have done me wrong. For my soul was cast, not in the name of evil or good, but somewhere in the middle, so as I might choose my own path. Here my actions thunder throughout creation, for my name be but spoken, and judgement will come thundering down upon the that poor soul.”
Impermanence: Temporary.

How will you make your impact on history last eternal?

Fuck you Donald John Trump and everything you do.

Trump’s a bitch tart.

Dear Treasonous Trump,

You sack of shit. You utter fucknutted bitch tart. You sickly looking, shit filled, no good, rotten, scoundrel of a human being. you should be tried, charged, drawn and quartered, but just enough so that you’re still living (barely) and drug through a path of broken glass and salt.
You want to know how I really feel? That’s it. i fucking hate you Trump, and not because of 2016 (well, mostly for that, but there are other reasons as well, I mean, come on, 2016 was 2 years ago, right? SO SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT IT.) you annoy the utter crap out of me you son of a bitch, and for those politisnobs out there wondering the exact reason? fuck off! i don’t have to give an exact reason, there’s no exact reason for wanting a treasonous son of a bitch out of office and in the execution room filled with crack addled, razor toothed chihuahuas while wearing nothing but a Santa outfit made of drugs and raw meat!

There’s just justification for the incredible amounts of fucking shit that the assfucks been putting everyone through, and everything that I’ve stated FROM DAY FUCKING ONE IS COMING THE FUCK TRUE SO THE GLOVES ARE OFF YOU ORANGE FACED ROTTED DISTENDED TESTICLE LOOKING MOTHERFUCKER! Because in the end? Trump didn’t even matter after all, everything he’s ever done has fallen the fuck apart, and hwile there are great people on both sides of the dumbass spectrum, this motherfucker is king of them all! It’s like he doesn’t give a shit, yeah, he’s trying, but not hard enough.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve got friends and fam that’re trump supporters, they’re great people, love’em to pieces.

I just really fucking hate Donald john Trump with a burning passion that makes me want to light some fireworks I guess, like, I really didn’t KNOW where I was going with that one, just lost my train of thought on ye old “Fuck Trump”  train.

I’m not giving any quarter to that fat assed, tiny sausage fingered little bastard, because he’s an utter fuck nutted shit brained, piece of ass fart who’s only stupid racist goal in his entire pathetic existence is to eek out an existence as an organ monkey looking for crack filled peanuts with the efficiency of a dumbass named Trump. IS there anything he’s done that I agree with?
Are you fucking with me right now? Did you NOT SEE THE TITLE OF THIS POST? It’s not called, “Fuck you DJT” because  I’m getting him a birthday card and was wondering whether or not to get him some birthday cake along with the egregious amount of shit I’m giving him, and the truth hurts, people, the truth hurts, but Mueller’s is going to fuck his shit up with the efficient of a god damned nuke going off in a fishbowl and there ain’t nothing anyone can do about it, not whitman, not sessions, that keebler elf looking fuckbag.

I’ve been so fucking silent on this whole thing, because I wanted to see how things were going to play out, andp lay the fuck out they did, because god damned, the soap opera that’s become out current president has become so fucking ridiculous that it makes me wonder if Stan Lee, before he passed away, in his great amazing wisdom, created the first true to life Super Villain and made him a complete fuckbag and sent him into the office. Because the only cameo that this motherfucker has going for him is a permanent place in hell, (Donald John Trump, not Stan Lee. Stan’s is in heaven, making the best damned comics the universe has ever see. RIP buddy, gonna miss ya.) Trump can suck my fat sausage, because that shit stain of a russian bitch is nothing more than everything I made his greasy fuckface out to be, a god damned traintor to these United States of America, and Treason is the reason of the season bitches, and it’s coming out in ALL THE FLAVORS OF THEM OTH, IVANKA, JARED, ERIC, DUMBASS JR. everyone of those little bastards is going to hell in one way or another, (Except Baron, that kid’s got good things coming to him, nothing against the little dude.)

Okay, nuff of this, gotta get ready for work, Morgan’s Mindcicles everybody, new and improved, and about damned time.

I just drank a pot of coffees worth of caffiene in just a few gulps.

So let’s just get right into this fuck shit. I’m not angry, actually, I’m going with stream of consciousness and figuring out why peanuts are peanuts. Are they a Pea? Are they a Nut? Are they the rejected abortion of the people behind Peanut butter cups? Do they not get half sassed Christmas cards in the mail? Are their spiders in my brains? OH GOD! THERE ARE! send IN THE FLAT STANLEY, OR WHATEVER THE FUCK IS THE EQUIVALENT OF CLOWN PENIS! Well…. Aah, that got weird in ah hurry. But maybe I don’t feel like being smart today? No, I don’t feel like being smart right now, because I damn well can’t figure out a smart topic to write about. And OBVIOUSLY, that’s what you guys follow this blog for.

Right? Or is it just the random madness that pops up and goes “HERE THE FUCK I STILL AM! MAY HA HA HA!” Because that’d be awesome! Only the Rat King knows his nose from a mug shot line up of… People with fairly large noses. I guess? I can imagine the line of questions going on there.

Cop: Which one picked your nose!?
Rat King: THE ONE WITH THE MIRROR!
Cop: That’s…. Just the mirror.
Rat King: THEN, I, SIR JULIUS OF FRUIT SQUEEZING, HAVE WRONGLY PICKED MY OWN NOSE!

God, I miss screen writing, I love it so much, but at the same time, I’m trying not to be too focused on whatever the hell I’m thinking about. you know, trying to stay out of my own ass so I can see the SPIDERS IN MY BRAIN HAVE STARTED A DEMOCRACY! OH MY GOD, FAIR TRIALS AND FREE GAMES WITH NO PAY PER PLAY FEATURES FOR ALL! Things are looking up, but at the same time, you’re thinking: WHAT….What the fuck am I reading!?

Or maybe not. Maybe your train of thought has gone else where, or you’re now reading this in Morgan Freeman’s voice. Hello, I’m god. Ha, I just fucked a clown, and the world is my ostrich. Good news everybody, Jim Carey’s a… Twitter based philosophical god of random existential crisis tweets. I guess.

I dunno anymore, I thought it’d just be fun to write like I did in the olden times, back in the good ol days before I became blessed with having quality memes, or even a focused line of serious as fuck blogs about shit that I’ll slowly begin to hate with the VILE FURY OF THE RAT KING, JULIUS OF FRUIT SQUEEZING! That’s… Going to become a thing, I can tell. Maybe I can’t? I can’t tell, the sparkly blue hat I’m wearing prevents me from caring too much about any one thing, and for that, I thank you. No, I really AM wearing a sparkly blue hat. It’s taken me too fucking long to load up the sparkly hat picture, but just know, just know, I AM WEARING A SPARKLY BLUE HAT! Damn it feels good to be wearing a sparkly blue hat. This is my party face!20180220_185206

Holy shit, I am forevermore adding random pictures of myself to express different moods. Like fear:
20180220_185932

rage:20180220_185948

Kawaii:

20180220_190001
Rocking out:
20180220_190004
Complete and utter badassery.
20180220_190021

I repeat. Stupid Teens piss me off.

There’s this twitter group chat I was pulled into that I wanted nothing to do with. Called The Spooky jungle 2. Three Teens, all 17, looking at me like I was a god damned hero. Well, I’m an adult, and I’m all the fucking wiser, turned out, all their praise and ‘Yay! You’re you!’ was just to get a rise out of me, just calling me babe was a fucked up way of trying to get me pissed at them. Well, ya know what? I didn’t care, I was focused on getting books written and published and I’m not the same idiot I was way back when, before I tried getting into the Navy. I’m smarter, busier, chiller. And these kids were doing their damnedest to try and piss me off, but ya know what?

I didn’t let em. there was this one idiot, I forget his name, he was a forgettable piece of shit, and mind you, all of this took place on Twitter. I hate stupid people, and more importantly, I really fucking hate stupid teens that end up pissing me off for one reason or another. You want to know why? Especially on the internet, I had spent a good couple of hours helping these little fucking idiots out with all their stupid drama and problems and how do they thank me?

They start hammering on me like I’m just some dumb ass, calling me a fuckin’ meme, like that’s supposed hurt my fucking feelings? Bitches, I’m a motherfucking Living Meme, you calling me a meme is like saying the blue shit above our fuckin’ heads is called a sky!

No fucking shit I’m a meme, ya don’t think I know that? They kept calling me their sugar daddy, which I wanted no fucking part of and to be honest, their YouTube channel was fucking shit anyways. According to them, the only way to get anywhere in life is to be an annoying shit bag filled with dicks, or at least that’s their approximation of it anyways. These motherfuckers kept pinging me on twitter like I was their lord and savior, I’m sorry.

No, No I am fucking not. If anything I’m an easily irritated man who put up with their stupid BS because hey, they called me friend! Boohoo fucking them. So, after they get all weepy eyed because I ain’t playing their game, after I gut whatever piss and shit filled pants drama they were going after, after all I fucking do for them, they turn out to be just regular fucking shit bag teens, like I said, there are smart, good teens that know their asses from a hole in the ground and then there are the fucking assholes doing the tide pod challenge as if their Social Standing on Instasmackedface needed it. These little fuckheads, were exactly the second category.

Look, I can understand wanting to get to know me, that’s cool and all, but when you go and turn ass hurt over me not talking to you over the course of a few days, that’s when I know your parents didn’t smack ya hard enough when you did something stupid in their presence.

I ain’t going soft here, if anything, I’m still very much pissed, parents need to control these little shit bags on tighter leashes and prevent this kind of bullshit from happening. I’m not going to go back to being friendly after you spend an entire four hours pinging a group chat on twitter calling me a fuck head because I’m not playing the role you assigned me ya stupid club penguin playing piece of shit!

I honestly can’t stand that type of needling shithead, I really can’t! so what? I’m not doing shout out videos for anyone anymore, but you know what? I’m a fucking human being with feelings, and if the underdeveloped logic center of your tiny, fucking, idiotic brain can’t handle the fact that I’ve got better shit to do than heed to the whiny, bitchy, ignorant, crying pants shitting that you and your stupid fucking idiot teen friends on twitter are currently crying about, so the fuck what?

Boo fucking hoo, Kim kardashian liked a photo of a former friend of yours, but didn’t like your own!? OH THE FUCKING WORLD IS ENDING BECAUSE YOU DIDN’T GET YOUR WAY! Well, lemme call Dr. Fucking Phil and we can have ourselves a fucking pow wow and get all touchy feelly with whatever Hot Topic based emo bullshit you’re going through!

Fucking ay… These stupid fucking teenagers… Yeah, I could rip on Millenia’s, but why bother? Every stupid idiot trend they set, they’re paving the way for the future. But when 16 year old Becky Whogivesafuck from Idontgiveashit creates a new design for earbuds!? OH MY GOWD, LEMME SNAPCHAT THE SHIT OUT OF THAT FUCKING NEWS BECAUSE NO MATTER WHAT, THAT’S GOING TO MAKE THE FUCKING HEADLINES FOR GOOD DAY LA OR WHATEVER THE SHIT NEWS PROGRAM currently has a case of the fucking happy feelly get #metoo’d right in the face!

I’m not sorry at all. I’m very much still ticked about the whole entire situation and while I can understand the irony of me bitching about stupid teens on the internet being stupid fucking teens, there’s a line I usually draw in the sand, a huge line. I don’t care for the idiotic memes, I don’t care for the reckless idiocy, I don’t fucking care about whatever fucking beef is being had by whatever two music idols that can’t fucking sing without a fucking iphone attached to whichever of a thousand genders is going down I don’t fucking care about any of it.

My thing is this, you treat me nice, I treat you nice. We’re friends till you start being a shit heel towards me. “Look at your YouTube channel!” What about my YouTube channel? Are you going to point out anything specific or are you going to leave the insult half finished like whatever stupid fucking idiocy is running through your heads at the moment!?

I long suspect that no. Teens today think that a question is an insult. They think that eye rolls are insults. They think that asking questions, regular questions, or telling you to look at something, is a fucking insult. It is not. It’s just a fucking question or a direction to look at something, that’s pretty much all it fucking is! You see the Kardashiwhogivesashits point at the camera man going, “Ugh, look at your ankles, you’ve got weird ankles!” Well, I wouldn’t put it past them to try something stupid like that. Because in the age is fuck headed ass monkeys, there are no bigger fuck headed ass monkeys like some of the teens or young adults on twitter i get to put up with.

Another great example is when I tweet something that i believe in, and then you have a fucker that constantly, at every possible moment in fucking time, decides to reply with some stupid shit! Example:

@MorganGavin

Today is going well!

Reply by @fuckfacemcgregtard

Yeah, but I’m going to jail!

My initial response used to be: Well, okay then. Still a nice day.

My response now is: You did something to deserve it you stupid shit bag!

Look, the process for all forward growth is conflict. Without conflict, competition, and survival of the fittest, we wouldn’t have good people and shit heels. If you’re a good person, good for you, I already like you. If you’re a shit heel, go fuck yourself, never blemish my day with your very shadow, ya shady as fuck idiot. God damned… feels good to get this off my chest.

I’m not focused.

I’ll have a thought, and poof! It’ll be gone! I used to be this way a lot more, but that was when I was drinking redbull, which I am right now! Just a shit ton of the stuff! I don’t care if this gets hits or not, most of my stuff doesn’t anyways, but hey! That’s the beauty of blogging anyone can write a bunch of stuff, and if it gets known!
Fuck yeah!
Just fuck yeah! and the struggle kind of continues!

Lately I’ve been doing a shit ton of streaming on Liveme, and it’s pretty fun, starting to grow a regular fan base, running out of ideas though. but it’s just really strange,, as there are a bunch of weird people on there, and it kind of freaks me out just a bit. But hey, anything to grab those diamonds, BTW if  you grab four million something odd of them, you get 20K for all your hard work, but you can only withdraw 600 a day, which, granted, is fair, but at the same time, you have to fucking grind every single day of every single hour, and it can get exhausting! I mean, I only do it for a few hours, but there are peeps out there that just get that shit done like no tomorrow! and yeah, my minds a bit scattered among the fucking hundreds of different projects I have to complete, but eventually, I’ll get them done! and published!

And then I can get them into the “DONE WITH THIS BULLSHIT” folder that I have set up, because there is a bunch of it and I am just frustrated as all hell with the whole writing thing. And the discord thing, about ready to just delete the server and move on from it, but people love it, and if they’re inactive, great, fine, dandy, I’m not going to spend valuable time trying to keep together something that keeps breaking worse and worse, can’t really trust the mods not to fuck things over. But I guess everyone just joined as a joke and when shit just went wrong repeatedly, fewer and fewer of them came back. Which, you know, is fine, it was a thing I enjoyed doing, and now…
Not so much. I guess it really depends on what’s on my mind over time. If it get’s to be too much, I can always just hand it over and be like, “Bro, done with this bullshit.” Because I kind of am, it’s lost it’s luster for me, and I always need to have something in front of me that interests me or else I just plain as hell get bored with it. Are there groups of people that’d like t’see that thing get deleted, they’re sure are! Will I just let the thing float there like a bloated corpse? Meh, why not. If people join, they join, and I’m a bit over trying to maintain it myself.

But people love it, so who am I to try and screw up their happiness. I’ve actually made so many friends from it, but at the same time, it’s just a chillaxed server, really is. I get lonely at times, and than I start bitching about things that I’m either ticked at or have no use for anymore. but that’s just how it goes, day after day. Did you know that I got 30 bucks for helping my mom out at her second to last day? Seriously, 30! Woot! that’s more money  than I’ve made doing youtube for 12 fucking years! And now i’m trying my hand at live streaming?

I’m already up to 45K likes, but the real challenge is getting them diamonds, that’s where the hell it’s at! but there’s so much micromanaging of the small details! Dear god! you’ve got to keep track of a lot of bullshit for a long time and mimic what others are doing! but I am making a name for myself, which is… Great I suppose, all i have to do is keep my nose to the grind stone and burn that fucking data! that’s great if I had a fucking job that payed regularly, but for the most part, I just make pennies on the dollar and i can’t even get game play footage anymore because I fucking gave my second ps3 away like a fucking dumb ass! Because you want to know what’s a great idea to follow through on!? Every single fucking thing I’ve ever done in my fucking god damned life because what the fuck!? What the fuck!? Seriously, I’m asking you!

But than again, no one’s going to leave a comment because who the fuck cares about answering some basic fucking questions on a blog? Seriously, if people do answer, it’s usually some ass twat making a smart ass comment or bringing up the fucking past or anything like that! I’m just sick and tired of being treated like a fucking curiosity, like, “Oh, look Martha, there’s a monkey flinging poo!”
“Yes Reginold, how quaint!”

Are you fucking kidding me!? I feel like every time I get two steps ahead, some fucking dumb ass harasses me about Kimberlee ann Kelly! And I really don’t want to talk about her! I don’t! I’ve written all I could from every angle about the woman, and that name haunts me to no end!

The Curse of Kim decides and deems that I’m not ready for even the stupidest of interactions because some ass twat on the net has fucked me over. When did I get so fucking ridiculous!? Did I really think this fucking plan of mine was going to work out!? Did i!?

god fucking damn it I’m so pissed about a bunch of things that don’t make any sense, and for the first time in a long time, I’m venting my frustrations because I can barely hold a fucking thought of action for long enough time before fucking off, and hoping to god someone else holds my fucking hand, because what the fucking hell else am i going to do with my fucking time!?

I could go insane, yeah, that’d work wonders, and prove my grandparents right about their intonation that I need to be S.E.D. from the age of fucking FIVE YEARS OLD BECAUSE I WAS TALKING LIKE THE OTHER KIDS MY FUCKING AGE! God fucking damn it! I’m raging right the fuck now because my life is an eternally revolving door of fucking bad luck! Whoopi!

Um…. What was I talking about again? I forget… today I had some pizza and walked home, so it was a pretty great day!

Of Mice and Mentality, or, screw that noise, I wanna watch Spongebob!

Okay, this past week has been a bit of a blur for me, so let’s start off with a topic everyone can agree to:


They’re arguing about sandwich shops. Please god, let them be arguing about sandwich shops!

so, everyone’s still bugging out about Ben Affleck being a horrible, nightmare inducing, more terrifying than a flying bottle to Justin Beiber’s head, rage terror inducing choice for the next Batman. Because if anyone is more suited to play the Dark Knight, it’s the dude who starred in Giggli… giggly… WTf the movie is.


Say it with me, “I am the night! I am justice… I… Am… Affleckman!”

So, outside of that trauma inducing choice, because you and I both know that with Affleckman cast in the new Affleckman v Supergigli Movie, there will be blood!


Sparkly, sparkly blood!

But… More subjects of conversatin’ await than just the horrid nightmare’s of Cinema, I’ve gotta talk about what the hell is going on in my own life, because Society can kiss my hairy red Haduken:


Or… Just, y’know, whatever the hell screaming nightmare this came from.

Lately, things have been super crazeh:

MY EYES! DEAR GOD, MY EYES!

Because the (Yes, let that image sink in.) semester is quickly wrapping up in more ways than one, I’ve yet to do any actual work for the class outside of hoping beyond hope that our groups presentation is good, if not better then an Avengers movie with all the worst possible actors being cast as all of the characters in the next Avengers movie… Or y’know… a My Little Po-


WHICH ONE IS THOR!? WHICH MOTHERFUCKING ONE!? IS THE MIDDLE ONE APPLEJACK!?

Not surprisingly, me finding my blogging spirit again has been a pretty awesome experience, getting in touch with my inner Internet fueled Rage Demon has given me a bit of a new view point on everything, from class schedules, dating, avoiding trouble, and of course, venting whatever pent up frustratins I have against whatever is ticking me off at the moment. which, considering all possibilities, I’ve been pretty calm in regards to socializing, as well as just getting the presentation done.

However, there are a few gripes I’ve got to take care of-


I-I-I… My inner child is screaming bloody murder and cookies. Yes, that’s a real recipe.

However, thanks to previously mentioned Prayer Circle, things are looking up, mostly because I’ve just been not looking for dates/girlfriends/Slash Cosplayers:

It’s a TRAP, I mean, Chimichanga!

but we’ll see how everything starts to pan out. I need to get my classes organized for next semeser, and I’m actually looking forward to it. My folks are slowly hinting that I need to get a steady paycheck going, and for the most part I agree. Though the author gig is awesome…


I sometimes need to hit the writers block with a Hammer and scream, “Run, damn it!!! Just run away!”

Anyways, I feel I’ve got things in the bag now, though I’m feeling a little like-


AAAUUUUGH, MY EYES!


MAKE THE BLEEDING STOP! MAKE IT STOP, FOR GOD’S SAKE!


WHY DOES THIS NOT HELP ANYTHING!?

Holy Hot Women Batman!


So today was pretty interesting. Despite getting a stick chucked at my knee spear style, walking with a lsight pain in my knee for a few miles, and making an awesome Chili-Noodle Surprise, oh yeah, and getting the full 25 points for The Observation ’cause mah Teacher is epic like that, those weren’t the chart toppers today. Nope, Today, we’re talking Prayer Circles.

Boom. Feel that? Of course you didn’t, because if there are three things the Internet is powered by, (Nerd Rage, Cat Videos, and Anonymous), Prayer circles aren’t one of them.

Yup.

I got to take part in a prayer circle by chance. Seriously, I had just celebrated getting my Student ID back with a trip to the 99cent store and I made an epic Chili Noodle Surprise, heretofor renamed as “Epic Meal Time Super Stomach Punch Attack!” I passed a group of women holding hands. ‘This,’ I thought to myself, was an unusual sight to behold. I had been on campus for near eight or nine years, give of take the five year hiatus, and not once in all my meanderings, had I ever come across a Prayer Circle. Ever.

It was almost as rare as seeing a midget in a rascal, if not rarer, since I happen to be a fan of Genetic Abnomalities of the Heighth Persuasion…. Or G.A.H.Ps. that’s right internet, I, Dr. 3 Arms, Love Golden Astronauts that Hide Ponies. Deal with it.

First selfie in space. You can’t see the duckface, thank god.

but it was an interesting thing. I got to talking with them, put my sacred Chili-noodle soup down for a few minutes, and joined hands with Amy and Raquel, and we just did it, man. Wasn probably a weird experience at first, but I started things off with a general prayer, and everyone pretty much daisy chained the hell out of it from there. Pretty good experience.

Kinda like this ball of AWESOME!

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