R.I.P. English - RTOTD #833

Day 833

No. No. No. NO! NO! NO NO NONONONONONONONONO FUCKING NO!

We've finally reached a point in human history were I'm legitimately ready to give up on the English language.

Yes, it's a complicated bastardization and amalgamation of a few different older languages. Latin and German and fucking whatever else. But it works. And it's worked for a good long while now. Though I still will argue that middle English is fucking dumb as shit. But that's neither here nor there.

No, I think it's time we just gave it up and made like a fucking metric system for language. Something that fucks everyone over and we're all stuck learning a new bullshit language. But I don't want to do this because of some fucking gay one-world, kumbaya, united nations, touchy feely bullshit reason. I just want to screw everyone else over if we have to replace it. The metric system is a commie plot. This is a plot to make everyone equally miserable. Wait, I think that also sounds like a commie plot.

Sorry. Sidetracked for a moment.

Why is the English language dead, you ask? Well, isn't that a coincidence because I was just about to tell you. But maybe I won't know? Oh, you know what, I'm feeling in an angry, spiteful, vicious and overall excellent mood this morning. So I'll tell you.

English is dead because of the fucking words we keep adding. For instance, after the travesty of adding "bling bling" a few years back, we've decided to raise the stakes for our game of poor grammatical decisions by adding some of the following:

srsly, selfie, phablet, lolz, tweep, twerk, bwahahaha and tl; dr and a few more.

Yes. SERIOUSLY (see, I even fucking SPELLED IT!) all of those words have been added to the dictionary.

Look, I have no problem with people that still act like they're 14 and blabber incessantly in 4th grade level intertron speak. I occasionally will throw in an LOL or "haha" simply to convey a degree of humor because I'm a dick and sarcasm doesn't translate well to text. I regularly butcher the English language and often times make up words when I don't feel like finding a thesaurus or dictionary.  Fine. Cool. But you won't hear me say the word "lolz" out fucking loud. Or phablet. Or any of those ridiculous words. Because those aren't actually WORDS. They're a clusterfuck of sounds that escape your face hole.

Granted, I'm pretty sure that Keith Giffen should get credit for making "bwahahaha" into a thing since he's pretty much the originator of taking the 1930's robber baron mustache-twirling villain laugh and popularizing it in text ever since his1980's comic book work. But hey, whatever. It's just no longer a geek thing. It got mainstream acceptance now, so I guess it's cool enough to get into a dictionary. Whatever.

So I'm pronouncing it here and now. The English language is dead. Time to start creating its replacement.

I'll start now:

Dur gavlz qurok jingerboob sublavynz gurglesmack

That means:

I have lost all faith in humanity.

Or rather, what little faith in it I had remaining.

Let's build our new language, if for no other reason than to throw away the embarrassment of having "tweeps" in our dictionary. We will call this new language... Joeish. And we will make it the fuck up as we go along. Well, this is a different version of Joeish than the one I presently use whenever I'm just making up my own words as I go along and then publishing them in a book that people actually pay money for, but hey... I can recycle. See? I just followed the first rule of our new language. Make shit up.

A Morning Prayer - RTOTD #832

Day 832

Wakey, wakey, boys and girls. 

It's long past time to get a start on the day. Those knives aren't going to sharpen themselves. That chloroform soaked rag isn't going to wrap itself around your victim's mouth all alone. The ropes don't bind themselves and the blindfolds don't know how to knot. And that cage in your basement isn't going to fill itself with prisoners. You have to work for it.

The tears & screams & terror & blood must be wrought with our hands and our minds.

SO GET UP!

There's evil to be done. 

 

Grey Matters - RTOTD #831

Day 831

I'm starting to keep a little notebook filled with little one-liner insults or descriptors that I haven't found an organic use for in writing. It's fairly short right now, but that's because I realized sometime in the last few weeks that I've come up with far too many clever or funny things that I don't have a use for quite yet and have forgotten to write them down and lost them forever.

And fuck, sometime I might want to just put together a list of them to share or I'll actually find a way to use them and if I don't write them down, how will I remember them all? I have random strings of numbers or comic book continuity or where I left the remote control to remember. I can't be using the grey matter for superflous things like clever sayings or the names of people I really don't care about yet keep running into, like any of the dump truck fires of emotional baggage that I've fucked over the years.

Though, I always remember the names of the bullets I've dodged. That list is a lot shorter:

Like PlayBoyBunny. I almost got married to that one. That was almost an unmitigated disaster.

Or that GothSlut. I still got a flesh wound out of that one, but I'm still kicking.

Or DeadEx. Well, just because she's dead. Not really that I dodged any bullets there outside of a few altercations with a pissed off cop husband. Just that she's dead so I kinda felt compelled to remember her name. I'm not COMPLETELY heartless. Just mostly.

But for the rest, forgetting the names of these trainwrecks helps me disassociate from being as horrible of a human being as I was for even sticking my dick inside some of them. They needed heavy drugging. Instead, I let them reinforce their daddy issues a penis at a time. I'm kind of a raging dickhead like that. If I don't remember their names, I can't recognize mistakes or learn or anything. And I'm all refusing any fault.

Though in my defense, I don't think I ever really noticed how much of a tsunami of glitter and non-ironic-700-club-viewer type crazy some of these girls were at the time. At least in my experience, I didn't catch the telltale signs until I looked at it in retrospect. I was pussy blind.

But that's kinda how that stuff goes. Fun and crazy and "oh god, is she going to stab my in my sleep?" are often difficult to differentiate in the moment.

I don't know where I was going with this at the beginning and I don't really feel like scrolling back up to remember what it was. So I'll leave you with these parting words:

God bless dads that don't give their daughters attention growing up and only provide creature comforts. I never would have gotten nearly as much ass as I have in my life if I actually had to be anything but a substitute male figure that reinforces that objectification.

Nananananananananana... Affleck!! - RTOTD #830

Day 830

Seriously? Ben Affleck? As Batman?

Is his suit going to have nipples? Did I fall into a time-warp where the same guys casting for Joel Schumacher's Batman movies that gave us George Cloony and Val Kilmer (pre-fatass) as Batman never got fired? Cause it seems like it.

Or maybe Kevin Smith is going to direct it and it's ACTUALLY going to be the real Bluntman & Chronic movie. Cause that's something that I could maybe get behind.

Or maybe it's going to be the most fucked up genre twisting meta bullshit ever.

For instance:

Superman from the movie that came out this summer somehow ends up inside that Christopher Reeves Superman movie where he fights the nuclear not-superman guy that Lex Luthor built and throws missles into the sun. But it turns out that that is actually in the same universe as the Adam West Batman. So when he runs away from that mullet-wearing fake Superman guy and runs into Adam West Batman it's actually Ben Affleck in the costume because why the fuck not? And when BatFleck falls asleep, he dreams that he's actually Adam West from the tv show. And the Adam West Batman tv show is actually US watching HIS dreams that he projects into our reality because it turns out that he's REALLY superman that's been mind-switched with Batman and he's got all the weird Silver-Age Superman powers like super knitting and that chest cellophane thing he used in the one movie and the little tiny miniture superman that can pop out of his palm and fight on the microscopic level. Dream projection into tv waves is one of those Silver-Agey powers.

And in the end, Affleck ends up as Superman and that guy from Man of Steel finds out the he was just a fever dream of Silver-Age Superman who is also Adam West Batman. And somehow Brainiac is responsible.

Dum dum dum......

Seriously... this is going to be a bigger disaster than Daredevil and Elektra combined. DC/Warner Brothers really doesn't have a fucking clue what it's doing, does it? Shit, this is a worse idea than Greedo shooting first.

Event Apathy - RTOTD #829

Day 829

So here's a challenge for you all:

Convince me why I need to re-think my "fuck events' policy and make an argument for why any specific event is special. Pick your favorite event and tell me why it's killer and why I should want to go. Because I am reaching a point where I am maybe(?) re-thinking my "fuck events" policy but can't really figure out why I should reverse it. Nothing I can think of is doing the job, but it's a policy I've had for a while now and I've justified it with things like "you can't drink there so it's not really your scene" and "you hate dealing with new people at this point and 95% of people at events are new people so it's not really your scene" and "you don't really play much at this point and none of the classes speak to you, so why not just stay home and watch tv?" or "I'm tired of seeing naked people that I don't want to see naked and it seems like events are filled to the brim with them" and other arguments that a narcissist with some borderline sociopathic tendencies would make.

And they're all very true and very accurate arguments as to why I shouldn't bother to change my mind. But I'm trying to have a more fair debate in my head about it and can't come up with much beyond "new boobs, some of which I might actually want to see" or "I can play the 'see how many people I can make hate me' game with strangers in a different city" but those kinda suck.

So that's where you come in. I want you to push me off the fence. I can't remember why I enjoyed them at all in the first place, or if I really even did. The cynical side of me has been telling me for a while now that the only reason I ever bothered with events in the past is because whoever I was fucking at the time really wanted to go. And to keep them happy, I'd give in and go and then, once there, I just kinda meh'd my way thru it all weekend until it was time to go home and I could go back to not giving a fuck. But I don't know if that's actually true or just something else I tell myself to reinforce my "fuck events" policy.

That's why I want you to try to convince me otherwise. Hell, just use it as a chance for you to pimp whatever event you really care about.Or tell me to stay the fuck away from your event if you're an organizer and don't want to deal with me. Or it might make me really want to go to your event then if for no other reason than to fuck with you and cause a problem. Because I'm a dick like that.

But I want to try to find some of what I used to think was passion again and maybe hearing about the passion of others will help me find mine again.

Blah.

Joe vs. The Volcano - RTOTD #828

Day 828

Do you know what the world is missing more of? Virgins sacrificed into a volcano. Why did we get away from this?

Also... something about the virgin sacrifice has always bothered me and I think I just put it all together: It was an early attempt at pushing girls into being sluts.

Follow me here. So you have a girl and in order to be a virgin sacrifice, they had to be of at least a certain age, right? Otherwise, you'd just wait until someone in the village had a crippled, deformed, children-of-brothers-and-sisters kinda baby and then hey... look at that! Instant sacrifice. But I guess the "gods" realized that that was cheating or something and told the chieftains that the sacrifice had to be someone that it would suck to lose. Or maybe someone that could realize what was about to happen to them. Which, let me interject for a second, is kinda fucked up, right? It's only acceptable to throw some girl into a volcano if she's old enough and aware enough to realize that she's about to be thrown into a fucking volcano? What kinda shit is that? First you're killing her, but that's not good enough. You gotta throw in some terror too. Because what kinda sacrifice is it if there isn't some fucking terror, I guess. Sadistic fucks.

But back on my line of reasoning here... So we've established that it can't just be the village half-wit or hunchback or some shit. It's gotta be someone that isn't a waste of DNA.

Next, it's gotta be a girl. Because fucking whatever. Boys can fight or whatever. Girls are just baby incubators or something. I'm not going to really bother delving into the fucked up thinking of our ancestors when it came to the actual utility of women in society and just let this one slide because it's going to cause me to go off on a gigantic rant that's got nothing to do with throwing motherfuckers into volcanoes & slutty girls.

So now, it's a girl and she's aware of what's happening, probably a teenager or something. Next we get to add the next layer to the criteria. Virgin. And this is where it gets fucking weird.

These ridiculously antiquated societies (I hesitate to call them civilizations yet since they're still throwing people into volcanoes to appease invisible men in the sky and under the ground) and even today with a good chunk of the middle east, they have strict rules about women and their purity. Motherfuckers will stone a woman to death to this day for being raped in some fucked up backwards parts of this planet. And sex before marriage will probably get your head cut off. All in the name of maintaining the purity of the woman before her wedding day. Because the best way to celebrate the day of being effectively handed to some guy to do with what they wish, and them being paid to take you off your dad's hands, is to bleed in a sensitive area from losing your cherry. Cause they couldn't find another way to make your day shitty in these fucked up cultures shy of female circumcision. I guess.

So these cultures basically demand that girls stay virgins. And then the reward for actually following the customs? You get put into the volcano lottery if you're not married off yet. What kinda shit is that?

So really, the only way to avoid being in the Miss Volcano 485 BC Contest is to not meet their criteria. Not a virgin? Can't go in the volcano.

Granted, the slut option isn't really much of a great fall-back. Because at best, you're disowned and cast out by the village. At worse, you're executed because I'm not even making excuses or trying to understand cultural customs anymore. But hey, still beats the "definitely gonna die in a volcano" options.

But from looking at it from a simple "positive vs negative reinforcement" view, it seems like the downsides of being a tramp are a lot less serious than the upsides of staying as a virgin. And that doesn't make a goddamned bit of sense to me.

So really, it might be the backhanded way of telling girls "if you can't get married quick enough before the new models are on the market, just start being a slut. At least then you're safe from being a village sacrifice and it's better than the alternative." And it might explain why every time you see some virgin about to sacrificed, she's dressed kinda trampy and she's pretty hot. Because her volcano groom wants her to look pretty for when he BURNS HER THE FUCK ALIVE!

But back to my original thought... I think we need to start doing a volcano toss again. Except this time around, we'll be equal opportunity. Virgins of any gender get the chance. Like the Hunger Games, except the people from the other districts are a volcano and you can't win.

A Long Lost Thought - RTOTD #827

I've been working on cleaning up my archives (and adding things to the archives here. The first 30-some or 40 days of the RTOTD is up way way WAY at the end of this blog) and I came across a couple unpublished thoughts. Shit that I don't know why I didn't post at the time. Well, maybe I understand why I didn't post them but now I don't give a shit and am going to just throw anything out there that I can come up with.

It also makes me realize that I'm just not thinking the same way I used to. I'm not going off on rants about things. Now I'm blabbering about plasti dip and fucking cartoons. Jesus. It really makes me hate my newer material. Because this SHOULD be something fun and amusing and random to read or write every day. Instead, I've been trying to make it so fucking interesting that I'm back in that "It's becoming a job" thing by caring what the fuck I write instead of just being an exercise in my rambling, incoherent brain wildly firing thought bullets like a blind man with an inner ear infection at the shooting range. And then assessing the collateral damage when the smoke clears.

And with that said, on to the retro thought given a modern date.

Day 827

So it's bad enough that there's pretty much a reality show for everyone at this point. There's those duck people, all those swamp idiots trying to catch alligators or whatever the fuck they do, there was the midget family, the people that had all the children in the history of ever, those walking plastic surgery factories that called themselves housewives, and just about any other person that they can find to act like a jackass on camera and get famous for being a total doucherocket. On camera.

But now... now we have hillbilly gypsies from West by-god Virginia that apparently think pre-marital sex is horrible but fucking and marrying your cousin? Totally cool. And perfectly normal. You all ain't doing West Virginia any favors. You're really from Kentucky and are just doing what you can to make West Virginia look bad, right? Couldn't find a goat to fuck in the meantime to help out with reinforcing the stereotype a little more? Find any city boys to make squeal like a pig recently?

I mean, don't get me wrong... I love any reason to laugh at hillbillies, West Virginia, make a Deliverance joke (which, oddly enough, I only saw less than half of, a number of years ago. I should watch that movie) and find a way to play up the stereotypes even more from that god-forsaken shitstain of a state. Well, godforsaken shithole state with really really nice roads. Seriously... I'd almost be cool with going the WV route and have a former Klansman being our senior Senator for a few years in PA just to get roads half as nice as Byrd got for them. Then I remembered that I have black friends and they probably wouldn't like that. And I like them more than I like West Virginia's roads.

So feel privileged, my black friends. I shall protect you from the klansman! Even if it means shitty roads!

I need a cape now. Because I'm a superhero that saves black people.

Did I just actually write that? Cause that might have been kinda wrong. But it made more sense in my head and was totally less racially insensitive.

Bring The Boom - RTOTD #826

Day 826

Do you know the one aspect of being in that 17-20 range that I miss? Having a stereo system that could rattle your teeth but not the trunk.

I had one in my Jeep that I spent a shitload of time and energy making sure didn't sound like 99% of the other "teenager with a loud ass car stereo" out there. I mounted the speakers right. I balanced them even better. The insall job was CLEAN, hidden and based on the type of box and speakers that I installed, and the way that Jeeps are built, I didn't get a single bit of that obnoxious license plate rattle that 99% of everyone else ended up with.

You know what I'm talking about. When you're sitting at a red light and some kid in a souped up Honda Civic pulls up next to you and has an exhaust that sounds like a back-firing lawnmower and then all of a sudden, his stereo starts playing and it's so loud that you can FEEL it. And while his choice of music is shit, because 95% of all music made after 2003 is complete garbage and he's 17 so that's all he knows, it wouldn't even be that bad if 1) you could hear the treble. At all. Hell, even if the mid-range gets lost in the shuffle, being able to hear the highs even a bit would be good. and 2) the entire back half of his car didn't sound like someone stuck a coffee can filled with pennies in a paint mixing machine and set it on high. Fuck, even wobble bass wouldn't be intolerable if you weren't concerned that his bumper might fall off and cause an accident if he somehow ends up in front of you. And he will, because even if it's bumper to bumper traffic, he's going to put his foot on the floor as soon as the light turns green so that he can show how fast his car is. And to justify that spoiler that's taller than the roof of his car on a front wheel drive car.

See, that's the downside of putting in a stereo system. Asshats like that that give car audio enthusiasts, or music enthusiasts that happen to spend a lot of time in their car, a bad name. They make people that put time and energy into putting together an exceptional sounding, rattle-free stereo system look like assholes too. Granted, most of us are. We're non-consensually shoving our music preferences on your ears at every red light, on every street, every highway, and every heavy stream of stop & go traffic. We're dicks like that. We make talking on your cellphone while driving difficult. But I prefer to look at it like we're doing a public service and a health service all at once. First, you shouldn't be talking on the phone will driving anyway. That radio car commercial lady that's always  talking to some guy named Larry, who'se stuck in a ditch is, constantly telling us that. And second, we're saving you from brain cancer. We're helpful like that.

Granted, the policeman sometimes doesn't see it that way, but fuck him. People with loud stereos are providing a vital community service.

I miss that. I mean, I don't mind the more "normal" stock stereos from cars today. The quality of the stock stuff is a million times better than it was in the late 90's, but it's still not the same. You get much above 50% volume and the stock stereos start to crackle and pop because they just can't handle the type of power that aftermarket equipment can. I had 2 high-end 10" subwoofers each getting 130 watts from an qaulity amp, a decent set of mid-range components, and some great mid-highs and highs in the front. I even still have the 3-way plate speakers that I had in my dashboard. It was balanced in a way that could make you feel like you were having a heart attack from the bass fucking with your heartrate, but you could still clearly hear the high-end and mid range in a way that most people never expected when they first sat down in the car. The distortion was virtually non-existent and it scared deer away from a mile in every direction. It was fucking awesome.

And as I said, I miss that. I think I need to do that again. I want that rolling disturbing the peace violation back. Because while "racecar" is certainly a worthwhile objective, so is being able to listen to some sick music while annoying the general public and being the envy of 17 year old kids with a 1996 Buick Skylark everywhere.

Or maybe I just want something that sounds better than stock. Mostly because I'm like half deaf at this point and want to get myself the rest of the way there. That way I have an excuse when I just entirely ignore 95% of the conversations that people try to have with me unless it involves a girl taking off her clothes.

Like Stepping On A Lego - RTOTD #825

Day 825

Bailey is super pathetic right now. He's wearing a cone again. And he's also gotta wear a sock 24/7.

It started the day after ArtemisFallen & I took all 3 dogs to the park. They all wore themselves out from running or wandering. They had a blast.

The next day though, I got a text while I was at work, telling me that Bailey was limping. I was concerned but not worried. He hadn't been running that much at home since he hates the dog run & has recently had the tendency to go on adventures if I leave him outside off the run rope. So I assumed he had strained something at the park. I would check it out when I got home.

I got home and lo and behold, he was certainly limping but it didn't seem to be anything major. He was laying down when I walked in the door but got up as soon as he saw me. His first few steps, he was obviously favoring one leg but after about 4 or 5 steps, he seemed to be getting along just fine and the limp faded. My assumptions seemed to be confirmed when he didn't wince or whine about it and the limp went away quickly.

Over the next few days, the limp got progressively less pronounced until it was only when he was lying around for very long periods that it would show up during his first or 2nd step before fading again. I wasn't worried. He was getting better. It was just a reminder that until I get my yard fenced in and he can run around as much as he'd like, I need to get him to the park more often.

But then something changed.

About 5 days after the limp had shown up, it had minimized but not entirely gone away. And on the 6th day, it almost seemed to be just a slight bit worse again. He hadn't been running much because I was letting him heal before taking him back out the park, but he had certainly been up and about a good bit. But on the 7th day, it seemed to be even worse still. Now I was getting concerned again. This isn't the normal healing process. Something must be wrong. He looked like he was stepping on a lego with his right paw with every step he took. This was no good.

I checked the pads of his feet and didn't see anything wrong. I checked every inch of his legs, all the way up to the shoulders and still couldn't find a single spot that seemed to cause him the slightest amount of discomfort. He didn't wince or whine or cry once as I inspected him but I knew something was wrong.

By this point though, the roomies were both out of town and Bailey had gone to visit Grandma & Grandpa for a few days. 2 dogs are easier to deal with than 3 by myself and they liked his company. Plus, he's used to being around people during the day while I'm at work, so fuck it. They can play with him for a few days. We all need a vacation from our kids. Even if we're babysitting for others at the same time.

A few more days passed and finally my brother called me to tell me that they had found a lump on his one paw. Not even really on the paw but on the side of a paw pad, almost on the webbing of his feet. And it was a fairly nice sized lump too. About the size of a large green pea. They checked online and found that soaking the foot in cold water can often help it and prevent the dog from at least licking or trying to bite at it. It worked for the night. But by the next morning (Friday), the lump was bigger and more prounounced. I called the Vet. It's nice having a vet that's the mother of a close frind (Whiskey) and has known you for years socially. She could see him that afternoon.

I was at work and unable to go with him, but I got the phone calls keeping me updated. He had a large infection and it was not something that would go away on it's own with or without antibiotics. they needed to lance it off.

I won't get into the gory details, but they drained a lot of gunk out of it and it took them a few hours to get the bleeding to stop. Being that it was on the webbing of his feet, they didn't want to stitch the area and wanted it to naturally scab. He stayed at the vet for a few more hours while they waited, mostly groggy from anesthesia and painkillers and antibiotics. I knew I couldnt' bring him back home until he was better. He was going to be staying with Grandma & Grandpa until he was better. Mostly because I don't trust the other 2 to leave his damn foot alone.

As they were about the leave the Vet, his limp had already almost completely vanished. But he looked crazy pathetic.

I was given strict orders. No running. Don't let it get wet. Change the sock regularly. 4 pills of antibiotics per day. He can't be off-leash when he goes outside. And the cone has to stay on until it's healed so he doesn't go at the scab.

He's playing it up too. He's not allowed on the beds or couches at Grandma & Grandpa's house but he knows he can get away with it now because he's injured. He can sleep on a bed. He can get on the couch. He can get pretty much all the people food that he wants and all he has to do is wear some stupid sock and that cone? Done and fucking DONE.

 

He goes back to the Vet tomorrow for a follow-up to make sure he's healing right. I'll be there with him this time. I'm not missing 2 vet appointments.

AMA #3 (Maybe?) - RTOTD #824

Day 824

It's another Ask Me Anything day. I don't know if this is the 3rd one or the 4th one or whatever but yeah. I'll be answering every question posted. So make with the questions & I'll answer them, motherfuckers. I think it's because I'm out of inspiration for anything else to write.