Forget calling into work sick, can I call into work sad?

New additions to the list:

Dr. Whap-bam-boom-alakazam (Hazbin hotel reference)

Dr. Waluigi

Dr. Wham-Bam-thank-you-Ma’am

Things we’ve called our psychiatrist because her last name is impossible to spell:

Dr. Wozniak

Dr. Winchester

Dr. Wonderland

Dr. Worcestershire (yes this is easier to spell than her actual name)

Dr. Wimbledon

There will be more of these eventually.

Things we’ve called our psychiatrist because her last name is impossible to spell:

Dr. Wozniak

Dr. Winchester

Dr. Wonderland

Dr. Worcestershire (yes this is easier to spell than her actual name)

Dr. Wimbledon

There will be more of these eventually.

plural culture is having to do a ghost hunting style "is there anyone with us" to see if theres anyone in front with you

So my family has a Gay Pirate Plate.

Stay with me.

We do not know how the hell the Gay Pirate Plate was first acquired. This being a point of contention is actually pretty plot-relevant; the saga of the Gay Pirate Plate began with my grandmother and her sister, who, for some ungodly reason, both BADLY wanted the Gay Pirate Plate and believed it to be rightfully theirs.

I should back up, firstly, to establish: The Gay Pirate Plate is the cheapest, tackiest, ugliest plate in existence.

It is in no way a collector’s item. It is physically impossible for it to complement anyone’s decor, because the colors in it are garish. It’s just a ceramic plate with a gay pirate painted on it, and the painting is, this cannot be emphasized enough, extremely bad.

(How do we know the pirate is gay if he’s just posing on a plate? Listen. Fully 100% to stereotype, but he is. He is gay. There’s an energy. That pirate is a flaming homosexual. That pirate has sex with men and does it frequently. That pirate is fucking gay, all right, he just is.)

Anyway. The point is that this is an extremely cheap and ugly plate with a poorly-executed painting of pirate on it who is like a nine on the Kinsey scale.

My grandmother and her sister fought a blood feud over this plate for their entire lives. It would be on the wall in my grandma’s house, and then her sister would visit, and then it would be gone. She’d visit her sister and the plate would be on the wall and her sister would pretend it had always been there. She would steal it back, hang it up, and, when her sister visited, pretend it had always been there. This continued for DECADES.

When the sister died, the Gay Pirate Plate lived triumphantly in my grandmother’s house. And then my grandmother died. And my aunt, who had lived with her and been her carer throughout her life, rightfully inherited their house.

We visit my aunt after the funeral and stay with her for a week or two.

Me, my sister, and our dad. Her brother.

The three of us look at each other. We don’t say anything. We studiously avoid making eye contact with the Gay Pirate Plate mounted proud and ugly on the wall. We notice one another studiously avoiding looking at it. We notice one another noticing. We say nothing. We come to a silent consensus. We pack up to leave. We get in the van. Our aunt comes out to say goodbye. I loudly announce I need to use the restroom before we leave. She obviously stays outside to continue talking to my dad.

I take down the Gay Pirate Plate, stuff it under my oversized sweatshirt, go outside, and get in the van. She happily waves goodbye as we drive off.

Two days later my dad gets a phone call that opens with hysterical laughter and “You FUCKING ASSHOLE did you seriously STEAL THE PLATE–”

Anyway. The gay pirate plate lives in my dad’s house currently.

But he’s trying to get me and my sister out to visit him. And plate mounts are cheap.

Idk what kind of depression makes us want to make pancakes from scratch at 11 PM, but we’ve got it.

It’s 1 AM and we’re sitting here with an excessively large cup of hot cocoa while working on a video script about how Cyberpunk 2077 mirrors how fucked up we got when we gained system awareness. We’re living a very weird life.

-Omg being system sounds like so much fun!!

Systemhood for real:

changes and trends in horror-genre films are linked to the anxieties of the culture in its time and place. Vampires are the manifestation of grappling with sexuality; aliens, of foreign influence. Horror from the Cold War is about apathy and annihilation; classic Japanese horror is characterised by “nature’s revenge”; psychological horror plays with anxieties that absorbed its audience, like pregnancy/abortion, mental illness, femininity. Some horror presses on the bruise of being trapped in a situation with upsetting tasks to complete, especially ones that compromise you as a person - reflecting the horrors and anxieties of capitalism etc etc etc. Cosmic horror is slightly out of fashion because our culture is more comfortable with, even wistful for, “the unknown.” Monster horror now has to be aware of itself, as a contingent of people now live in the freedom and comfort of saying “I would willingly, gladly, even preferentially fuck that monster.” But I don’t know much about films or genres: that ground has been covered by cleverer people.

I don’t actually like horror or movies. What interests me at the moment is how horror of the 2020s has an element of perception and paying attention.

Multiple movies in one year discussed monsters that killed you if you perceived them. There are monsters you can’t look at; monsters that kill you instantly if you get their attention. Monsters where you have to be silent, look down, hold still: pray that they pass over you. M Zombies have changed from a hand-waved virus that covers extras in splashy gore, to insidious spores. A disaster film is called Don’t Look Up, a horror film is called Nope. Even trashy nun horror sets up strange premises of keeping your eyes fixed on something as the devil GETS you.

No idea if this is anything. (I haven’t seen any of these things because, unfortunately, I hate them.) Someone who understands better than me could say something clever here, and I hope they do.

But the thing I’m thinking about is what this will look like to the future, as the Victorian sex vampires and Cold War anxieties look to us. I think they’ll have a little sympathy, but they probably won’t. You poor little prey animals, the kids will say, you were awfully afraid of facing up to things, weren’t you?

The peanut butter cravings have been satiated.

DID is super bizarre because it’s 1:30 AM and I know I’m me, but I can also feel someone close to me. I don’t know which alter it is, all I know is they REALLY want to eat some peanut butter. Not on a sandwich or anything like that. Just plain peanut butter. I respect it, but Jesus Christ dude it’s ONE IN THE FUCKING MORNING. PEANUT BUTTER CAN WAIT.

DID is super bizarre because it’s 1:30 AM and I know I’m me, but I can also feel someone close to me. I don’t know which alter it is, all I know is they REALLY want to eat some peanut butter. Not on a sandwich or anything like that. Just plain peanut butter. I respect it, but Jesus Christ dude it’s ONE IN THE FUCKING MORNING. PEANUT BUTTER CAN WAIT.

Why does nobody ever talk about how in the Pokémon universe twelve year olds routinely fight terrorist organizations hell bent on destroying the entire planet?

Like, there are absolutely cops in the different regions. So are all of them just super incompetent or do they see some random twelve year old and think:

“Fuck it, we can’t handle Team Magma. Send in the kid with the chicken that breathes fire.”

I fuckin hate it when people try to tell us that dolphins are evil. Just let us get the happy chemicals from the squeaky leather submarine with lungs and shut the fuck up.

Someone in our system figured out how to use capcut and I still can’t figure out who made this. It hurts because it’s so accurate 😭

Guys I promise I’m not mentally ill, anyone who says so is mentally cringe.

This is the single greatest redesign I’ve ever seen.

so i did a jason redesign :)