to narrow things down

old people are awful.

i will one day be old, barring active actions to prevent that possibility on my part.

but one day, i'll probably be old (or dead).

but let's consider the old one, sammy, and hey, while we're at it, maybe stop being a jerk for once!

anyway,

old people.  why do they always like, fuck young children, and hate foreigners, and think gay people cause hurricanes?

seriously, if i could make hurricanes, you'd fucking know it.  i'd be just like, "oh, is it hurricane season?"

"no, sammy, it's christmas"

"OOPS, MOTHERFUCKING HURRICANE SHITTING IN YOUR FACE, JACKASSES@!"

really.  i'd be calling down the storms on all the fuckers.  but no, we're not magic witches with super powers.  that'd seriously be super cool.  i could write stories about that for years.

ok

breathe.


so hey, did you see me fucking panic my ass off on friday night?

no?  oh, that's because i sent that all to the place no one else can see.  here's how things worked.


i had a shitty week at work.

followed by a super shitty friday.

so i went home.


and remember how months ago i told you how i outsmarted my anxiety about having dinner by putting frozen dinners i liked in my freezer?

yeah.  i decided i didn't like any of those.

"get some pizza."

i didn't want pizza.



"sammy, i'm not getting what your point is here, so"

SHUT UP!

i always like pizza.  pizza is like my best friend who never tells me i'm a drunk.  pizza and vodka.  the three of us are super tight, yo.

so me sitting in my car, thinking about food, and pizza doesn't turn me on?  this is a fucking existential challenge.  who am i if i don't want pizza?

i love a tumblr about pizza and porn.  it's like someone kissed my tears away and in doing so, made my perfect happy land.

so i'm sitting there, hating the horrors of frozen food, and also not wanting pizza.  i drive mindlessly, eventually pulling into taco bell.

taco bell, "we're sorry you're here too, but at least we have some nacho cheese.  we hope that helps."

it did.  as much as tbell can do.  you're not magic, tacos.  and quesadillas.  and those quesadilla burrito things that look like so much work i can't imagine they're not full of spit.

so, hey.  that's how my friday went, and that's why you might have seen me writing tumblr posts about drunk driving to denny's on the other side of the island.

"don't drive drunk, sammy, that's how murder happens!"

duh.  i was angry because i was so drunk i couldn't go eat food that would totally give me super shitty runs.  i may hate myself (and a lot of other people), but i'm not going to put everyone in risk of me running them over.  i'm not a monster.

what was my other point?


honestly, there was a whole rant to put here about brown food.  not like "sammy, you're gross and like scat, stop being gross."  it was about how frozen/microwave food isn't brown.  you for-realsies cook food until it's brown, so it has that "brown flavor".  so you know it's good.  that's better than what i cobble together.

which makes me sad for the days when my brain was organized enough to actually sit down and cook for myself.  i did a bit on that last vacation.  it was good and brown, and i hate that i can't get my brain to work right so much of the time.

"sammy, you should get helpers!"

so, what i need is like a 1950's wife.  someone who lives at home while i go do work shit, and makes sure we don't get bugs (too late) or live in filth (too late) and makes sure i don't run out of clean clothes (it only counts if you get caught).  i think maybe i make enough to pay people to do those things?  how much does a fake wife cost?  do you have to pay more or less if you give them hugs?


what else is on the "you should talk to a therapist sooner than next month, sammy" list?

oh!  i wrote some more.  do you all remember "spa treatment"?  no?  you should look it up from a year ago when i totally stopped writing anything on it.  i put in a third of a half of a chapter, which means i need to stop masturbating to my own stories.  also, maybe lookup pipelining on gelbooru.  i'll do a link when it's closer.  but like, check out the concept to make sure you're on board before you start reading.

it's kind of hard when you write things and rub yourself raw, and then remember that most people would be disgusted by what you come up with.  i'm sorry, everyone.  i'm super sorry people who have said nice things about me.  i wish i was a better person than i am.


i kind of wish i had a taco right now.


i'm...sorry. :(