TL;DR for anyone not already apprised: Multimillionaire dicked my wife and I out of money we needed to buy a house and start our lives together. (No, there was no way to fight it and nothing we could do, we tried.) She finally made it to NY but now we're struggling to find a place that isn't literally falling apart, out of our price range, or that has ludicrously high lot rent. Together, we have around 35K to work with but that's the absolute upper end of what we can spend and it would put us dangerously close to bankrupt (also, it would have to include closing costs and such).

If you want the longer story, refer to my previous journal here: http://www.furaffinity.net/journal/9327155/

If anyone has any advice or if you know of any decent foreclosures anywhere in NY, that would be helpful. Minnesota is also potentially an option but we'd prefer to stay in NY because it has healthcare options which my wife sorely needs as she has severe lupus and pernicious anemia which is resisting treatment for reasons yet unknown.

Renting is not an option because her ability to work is limited and we don't want lot rent hanging over our heads every month. She's been turned down for disability repeatedly and is afraid to bother trying anymore. (You'd think lupus would be an auto-qualifier but apparently not.) ATM, she's holed up in a hotel room bleeding money until we can find a place to live.

Any advice or help would be appreciated.

We ended up finding a little trailer that we can fix up. We're gonna be sleeping on a beanbag for awhile but hey, it's something.

For anyone waiting to hear the name of the multimillionaire who just dicked my GF out of 40K, sorry to disappoint. I've been strongly advised that name-n-shaming him would be a terrible idea for several reasons.

He has infinitely more power, more money, and a team of layers who each make 2M dollars a year. They've apparently expressed the opinion that this guy is a horrendous dickbag and what he's doing is on par with puppy-kicking but they make enough money that they're not going to do anything to help us or hurt him.

I've also been told that he could sue us for libel and win regardless of how wrong he is and right we are. I don't know if I believe that but I've been overruled by everyone involved in this affair and they won't tell me his full name, only that his first(?) name is Rudelle or Rudel or something like that. They're afraid I'll go to the press and end up making the situation worse. I don't know how the situation could possibly get much worse. If he sued us, he wouldn't get much. Then again, knowing him, he'd take pleasure in wringing every last penny out of us.

It was also "insinuated" that the guy may have mob connections. I'm skeptical but it really wouldn't surprise me at this point.

My instinct is to fight this to the bitter end. That was money we were planning on building our life with. It was cushion for lupus flare-up days when Jordan can't work or days where I didn't quite make as much as I needed to. But at this point, it feels like a gazelle turning to fight a pack of lions- the gazelle ain't gonna win.

So yeah. That's that. Oh, and the real kicker: this asshole's own lawyers said the lien should have been thrown out a decade ago but it still must be satisfied because it was never thrown out. This makes no sense to me. But whatever. It is what it is.

The guy who is dicking my SO over for 40K + penalties and interest on a decade old lien against the house she inherited from her deceased father and who is also purposely trying to slow the process down literally just to spite her because he didn't like her father....

Has a networth.

OF 80 MILLION DOLLARS.

Let me rephrase that for anyone who didn't quite grok the situation: A colossal bully, who's own lawyers hate him, and who's net worth is approaching 100 MILLION DOLLARS, is dicking my girlfriend over for 40K+ over a decade-long grudge against her deceased father.

Said millionaire was made aware of our circumstances whereupon he doubled down, called Jordan a bitch even though he doesn't know her, and purposely stalled her closing just to be a dick.

Fucking shoot me.

Have any of you ever played around with one of these? https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07CTPPRB.....language=en_US

I am not going to be buying one since I'm a bit skint with moving expenses and I have a perfectly functional, almost brand new Intuos anyway (courtesy of a very generous friend... you know who you are. ;}). I'm just curious. Maybe someday, I might like to get one and I'd love to hear about your experiences with the new generation of Cintiqs.

♡ ♡ ♡

More fun out of context BS from my ridiculous life...

-points to the curtains- J'ACUSE!

RODNEY, HOW DID YOU LOSE TO A FUCKING COCONUT!?

We can christen our new house with some naked Vick's vapor rub wrestling.

Went to funeral, acquired chinchillas.

I know he looks like an anthropomorphic tree but I'd still hit that. (Free internet cookies for anyone who can guess what videogame character I was talking about here.)

I think if you set the Virgin Mary on fire, people would probably notice.

-said with impassioned desperation- I desire, more than anything, to pet David Hewlett's eyelashes.

I'm gonna have a dirty diaper ice cream seizure. (No, this was not misheard. I actually had occasion to legitimately say this sentence.)

If I answer that question honestly, some secret government agency will nuke my house from orbit.

I WANT TO PUT MY BUTT IN YOUR CEREAL! I MUST PUT MY BUTT IN YOUR CEREAL. I WILL NOT STOP UNTIL MY BUTT IS IN YOUR CEREAL. No, I don't care if you're eating the cereal. I MUST PUT MY BUTT IN YOUR CEREAL. ~ My cat, probably.

I do not regularly bathe my feet in coffee.

Get your ass out of my ear!

Banana says there is something in the walls.

I am not allergic to BDSM.

Let sleeping batshit crazy borderline histrionics lie.

AAAAIIIIIIIEEEEEE waannaa LLLIIIVVVEEEEEE like a TANGARINE!!!! LIKE A TAN-JAH-HAR-EE-EEEN!!!

I don't think I'd appreciate someone nibbling on my eyeballs.

Me: I need you to do me a favor; I need you to hang your ass out the window as you're leaving Florida.
JD: Um.....
Me: JD, you must do this for me.
JD: UMMM..... H'whyee?
Me: I want to vicariously moon Florida as you drive across the state line. I was denied this opportunity.
JD: O____O; How serious are you?
Me: Deadly. You must do this. AVENGE ME!!! AVENGE ME WITH THINE ARSE!
JD: .....

In Soviet Russia, TAIL HOMPH YOU!

My boobular integrity has been compromised.

JD: I'm glad you're not going out jogging with the wendigo tonight.
Me: It's not a wendigo. It's probably just a bear.
JD: OH. THAT MAKES ME FEEL SO MUCH BETTER.
Me: Well, I mean, it could, in theory, be a Native American monster of legend that stalks me through the darkness, drags me miles through the forest, then brings me up to a great height and drops me, leaving a horrifically mutilated corpse for hunters to find in the morning.
JD: O_____O;
Me: But it's probably a bear.
JD: NOT HELPING.

Good, let her testify in your hair. Keeps her from testifying in my hair!

I am the fat reaper. I've come to reap your ice cream.

No one is safe. Repairmen and ice cream alike. All die by my spoon. Fear me. -threatens repairmen with my spoon of death-

I've not thought extensively about fucking mermaids.

Give me a moment while I turn this octo-penis into an IV stand.

We're going to have a good marmoset at the stargate dealership.

The left boob doesn't know what the right boob is doing.

Go jerk off on Kentucky. They deserve it. (mutters) Fucken Mitch McConnell...

I would love to not have neighbors in my ass. I prefer a good neighbor-free ass.

JD: Yes, poke the evil. It might give us money. But don't poke the alligator. That definitely won't give us money.
Me: NEVER POKE THE EVIL.
JD: Says the fool who actually poked an alligator.
Me: Hey, there is a vast difference between poking a juvenile alligator and poking The Evil. NEVER POKE THE EVIL. A juvenile alligator has like, what, a few pokemon attacks at best; bite, tailwhip, intimidate, claw. Evil, on the other hand, you never know what that bitch is going to do next. She could steal all your left socks or murder your entire family. YOU NEVER KNOW. SO DON'T POKE IT.

My ass agrees with your ass so mote it be!

Me: Apparently, my boobs sound like cosmic background radiation static. Or possibly like opening one of those cheap tampons that people in the next county over can hear. WHAT IS THAT NOISE!?
Friday: I hate to ask but is there something in your ear? Like a....
Me: NO. If that were the case, you would be hearing a lot of screaming. I think it might be my pillow. AH HA! I have discovered the culprit!
Matt: Don't keep us in suspense. What is it?
Me: A candy wrapper. It was under my pillow. How dafuq dis get hur?
Friday: You're an idiot.
Me: EY! You got any explanations, jackass?
Friday: Maybe you were visited by the Candy Bar Fairy?
Me: Nah. She would have left an uneaten candy bar. This appears to be the work of the THAT BITCH Fairy.
Friday: Omg.... Why am I friends with you?
Matt: I love white people so much. -kookaburra seizure cackling-

Me: Dick cannot be sharpened to a fine, razor point. At least I'm pretty sure. I mean, I dunno... I could be wrong. I don't have a dick.... >.> .......HEY, FRIDAY!!!
Friday: -runs away asking himself why he's friends with me-

Have any of you seen this yet? It's a series of animation shorts on Netflix. I'm only a few episodes in and I'm just gobsmacked. I LOVE what I'm seeing so far, at least in terms of animation. Usually, I just put stuff on my second monitor and half-ignore it until it sounds like something interesting is happening but I can't look away from it!

I'm watching Suits at the moment and I've got to say, I'm thrilled to see the "trying to look like traditional animation but really 3D" style finally coming into its own. I usually don't like that particular style because it always looks so fake and sterile. RWBY's animation looks like hot garbage to me. I like The Dragon Prince quite a lot but it's animation is... well, I'm not really impressed. Ajin, Sidoonia, same problem. You can tell that the animators are letting the software do most of the tweening. The results look lazy, swimmy, and sometimes downright robotic.

But whoever worked on Suits got it right. THIS is how it should be done, though, I guess it's easy to say that. I have no idea how reproducible it is, how much effort went into it, how time-consuming it is, or any special tricks they used. Fact is, a style that works well for a short many not be feasible for a series or a movie. Still, it looks fucking amazing. I sincerely hope I get to see more of this style. It's so expressive, fluid, and every frame legit looks like a painting. It's like Pixar meets Borderlands.

The Witness was also really interesting. I've never seen a style quite like it. It was kind of unnerving. At times I felt like I was watching live-action that was painted over but it doesn't look bad at all. Quite to the contrary, it looks amazing. At least to me anyway.

Thoughts?

What's up? How's things? What's goin on?

The list continues: A collection of assorted random things I have said or that have been said to me which I'm sure have never been said before and may never be said again.

I have twice now assaulted my cat with rum cake.

It's a wrist mounted brazing dildo.

I ended up in mortal combat with a mango. The mango won.

Hamburgers won't sue you for medical malpractice.

Me: People taffy.
Fry: People taffy!? -___O;
Me: Yes. People taffy.
Fry: Okay then.

They will fuck your boat.

My mother does not have a gutter, she's Catholic.

What's a good food-related metaphor for a homophobe?

Well, if it's any consolation, your eyeball will smell really nice for a while.

Is there a support group for people who hate lanthanides and actinides?

I would try Blistex flavored ice cream if they made it.

Have you wooed many goats in your time?

You would never mourn a grocery bag of diapers.

Stop fondling the pancakes!

You inspire poop.

Watermelon related injuries.

Me: Can I drive up this shitbrick-mountain at a 70 degree incline?
Physics: No.
Mass Effect 1: Lol.

Incidences of accidents rise exponentially with every buttock added to the equation.

Why would you need to reason with a kneecap?

The polystyrene anus is recalcitrant.

Well, I wouldn't know. I've never dropped a cow on anyone from several thousand feet before.

The submarine has transcended mere sentience. It is sapient. It is aware.

Friend: What the hell is wrong with us?
Me: Synchronized lupus.
House MD: -pops out from behind the wall- IT'S NEVER LUPUS! -cane to the head-

Me: I'm not as hateful toward plaid as I used to be. I can tolerate its presence… to an extent and under very specific circumstances. Now corduroy, corduroy can get fucked and die. There is no excuse for corduroy. Ever. Not even you, Canada.
Canada: But…
Me: NO EXCUSES.

Buttocks are not typically vectors for that sort of thing.

I don't think my air conditioning unit has a gender.

I will lick all of your possessions.

There's not really much you can do but wiggle around awkwardly and pray the gods have mercy on your butt crack.

Bathtub….? That's an odd place to store rat kabobs.

I don't think the tuna goes well with my complexion.

I could probably bench press you with my forehead muscles.

It sounds like there's a toucan getting butt-raped in the backseat.
Now it sounds like there's a kookaburra getting butt-raped in the backseat.
Now it sounds like there's an entire aviary getting butt-rape in the backseat.
WHAT FRESH HELL IS GOING ON IN THE BACKSEAT!?
Styrofoam containers: -cackling maniacally as we drive through Middle of Potholeville Texas-

I always eat my rearview mirrors with ketchup on them, don't you?

I would rather deal with burning farts than freeze to death.

Oh, ya know. The usual; reading, perusing the news, licking protein off my iPad.

Get your fingers out of my wage gap!

I didn't watch a lot of kids when I was a TV.

Space dolphins and aquatic elephants that resolve all conflicts through sex like bonobos.

I find that being on fire and being correct are not necessarily mutually exclusive.

Don't mind me. Just duct taping some assholes to the windows.

I drank the phone.

Last night, I went out at 9pm on my nightly jog. It's a nice, quiet area in southwest FL, woodsy, scenic, no cars or people down the stretch I take, though, it can get very dark sometimes and I am a moderate nyctophobe. Still, I love it, especially in the "winter" months (heavy emphasis on the quotation marks there). Another thing I like about it is that it's typically an uneventful area. *Typically.*

I was about a quarter of the way into my jog when I got a hankering to listen to a particular old song I hadn't heard in a long time. I couldn't remember the exact name of it for the life of me. The title wasn't something obvious, it wasn't a popular or well-known song, and I have hundreds of other songs to sort through. So I slowed down to see if I could find it. Sorted by band, by genre, by artist, by playlist- couldn't find it. I wondered if I had deleted it by accident. Stopping on the side of the road, I redoubled by efforts. It was principle now. I was going to find that damn song if it took me all friggin night.

OVER THE TOP of the dubstep I was listening to, I heard a sound that can only be described as the metallic demon shriek of a creature the approximate size and shape of a Giganotosaurus. I swear, I jumped a full two feet off the ground (which is saying something because we fat chicks don't usually get much hangtime when we jump), yanked my earbuds out, scrambled back a few feet, and froze like a terrified deer in the headlights. I stood there unmoving, listening for the direction of the sound so I could fuck off as fast as possible in the opposite direction.

Doleful nightbirds piped their lonely psalms against a soft backdrop of chirring crickets and creaking frogs. Wind whispered through the trees and sighed through the tall grass. I heard nary a sound outside the typical Florida night serenata for a fair while. I began to wonder if perhaps my MP3 player had malfunctioned or maybe I'd heard the unfortunate demise of a Boeing 747 crash-landing into a pile of nails on a chalkboard. I even began to feel kinda silly. That happens sometimes. As an artist, my imagination occasionally gets away from me, especially if it has darkness and shadows to play with.

But then came the sound of water. It was not splashing, no, and it was not a tide or a current either. This is a particular sound that human beings recognize on a deep, instinctual level as it has been inscribed into our DNA through eons of evolutionary success, the very same success consequent of our instinct to run the fuck away when we hear sounds like this- sounds like something *big* moving towards you through water.

The Peace River is maybe a minute's walk from where I was standing. If I was to go off-trail and walk a straight line, it would be less than half a minute. The dinosaurian screech coupled with my knowledge of Florida wildlife brought my mind to the only logical conclusion…

…

…..

…….

Dinosaurs. LAUGH ALL YOU WANT but you did not hear this @#$%^&*ING SOUND. Having survived Florida for a solid 15y, I knew damn-well that alligators do not make *that* kind of noise. They rumble, they hiss, they can even roar, and those are all very impressive sounds. I would know. I went to Corkscrew swamp once and heard it all up-close and pants-shittingly personal. That "rumble" they do vibrates through your whole body and sets your nerves on fire for sure but THIS WAS NOT THAT. This noise was something else entirely. And I was convinced that it was dinosaurs. Or aliens. Maybe alien dinosaurs.

I stood there frozen, half expecting the Indominus Rex to come tromping out of the river, and I heard it again, this time, with perfect clarity, shrieking like a rusty freight train full of banshees careening off the rails. I might not have had my shittin pants on but I did have my running shoes and I could haul ass if I had to. Granted, I'm a fat chick and that's a lot of ass to haul but trust me, I can run faster and longer than you might think.

The Shriek mounted to a crescendo reminiscent of some unspeakable horror from the Cthulhu mythos amidst violent splashing, grass rustling, and sticks snapping. Fuck that. I'm out. Later bitches! As I began to jog away, the Cthulhean call waned into a dry, shearing denouement, only to be punctuated with one…

Small.

Single.

Sound.

…

…..

…….

Honk.

I stopped in my tracks and turned around as if someone had said something very rude behind my back, like; "ex-fucking-skeoooooose me?"

Honk.

I stood frozen in shock with WTF sirens blaring in my head as I tried to figure out which kind of Cthulhean abomination would think it appropriate to follow up an abject, unbridled, pants-shittingly horrific screech with a fucking honk. Like, is this your average, everyday friendly neighborhood Gug riding a bike and letting everyone know that he's just passing through on his way to murder and eat the neighbors? Honk honk! Or maybe it's a Night Gaunt wearing a clown nose and randomly honking it into the darkness of night because that's his fetish. Honk honk! Or maybe it's the great Cthulhu himself arising from the swampy Floridian depths except he's secretly a muppet and that's how he communicates with his henchmuppets, instructing them to corrupt the hearts and minds of children around the globe through Sesame Street. Honk honk! I suddenly remembered a sound from my childhood back in New York when I used to walk through the cemetery which featured a fairly sizeable pond inhabited by…

Geese.

Is that what I was hearing? A goose? Really? ARE. YOU. !@#$%^&ING. SHITTING. ME!? I was about to run home like a little bitch, leaving a trail of terror-shits across Deep Creek… OVER A !@#$%^&*ING GOOSE!? *Honk!* I AM GOING TO HUNT YOU DOWN AND HONK YOU RIGHT IN THE !@#$%^&*ING HEAD, YOU LITTLE BASTARD!

At that point, I was so embarrassed, I felt like I had to earn back some bravery points just for my own peace of mind. Like, I would not be able to sleep at night knowing that I had reacted to a !@#$%^&*ing goose like it was the second coming Cthulhu. I had to go see this Cthu-goose for myself just to make sure. It was a full moon out so the darkness wasn't bothering me that much… just so long as I did not stare overlongly into the creepy "Scary Stories To Tell In The Dark" pine forest or the "Children of the Corn" underbrush.

I walked down the trail leading to the river, listening, waiting for Cthu-goose to jump out at me. The trail ends in a small, steep bank overlooking the water. It seemed calm and quiet on the surface but there are actually alligators in there so I didn't get too close. People have died that way. I peeked around the corner and there on the shore, a little ways off, sat the Cthulhean horror that had nearly sent me screaming home in terror….

It was a !@#$%^&ing pair of Canadian geese. They were just kinda sittin there, chillin, lookin around. I took my glasses off, facepalmed, put them back on, and walked home in shame. But hey, if Doctor Grant from Jurassic Park is to be believed, they really kinda are dinosaurs in a way, and being that they are *Canadian,* you could say they are aliens. So if anyone asks why I got back from my jog so late last night…

Alien dinosaurs. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

A friend of mine, who is a totally awesome dood, sent me a JESUS METRIC HOLY CHRIST-TON of rum cake for Christmas last year which I am quite delighted by because rum cake is nummy. (Thank you again, btw, dood.) So, yesterday, I decided I wanted to have a piece. I grabbed the box labeled "Rum Swizzle" and went out into the kitchen. My cat, Bilbo, a pudgy gray tabby, saw this and followed after me because if I'm going out to the kitchen, that probably means "get food" or at least an opportunity to plant his fat ass in the middle of whatever I'm doing and "get attention." Those are his two main motivations in life- get food, get attention… and also wait for the exact !@#$%^&*ing moment I'm done cleaning the kitty shitter box before he goes in there and takes the most gnarly nose hair-curling dump he can muster.

Anyway, so, I proceeded to attempt opening the box. Mind you, there is a genetic predisposition in my family that renders our women utterly, totally, and entirely inept at opening things. It doesn't matter what it is. If it involves being opened, we will find some way to catastrophically fuck it up. Jars have shattered on floors, plastic shards have lacerated flesh, food has gone sailing overhead and splattered the cabinets behind, liquid has erupted skyward, and even simple doors occasionally pose a problem for women of my family- I mean WAY above the standard deviation for failing at opening things.

So I knew I was in for a fight. The cardboard opened easily enough. The tissue paper put up a bit of a struggle but I managed to persevere. The plastic, however, was a formidable foe and would not yield without a fight. I could have just grabbed a pair of scissors I suppose BUT THAT WOULD BE CHEATING! So I wrestled that villainous plastic into submission, reached in, grabbed that rum cake right by the ass, and yanked it out into the light of DAY! …only for it to cartwheel up my forearm like a Ferris wheel off its hinges.

I have NO IDEA why my reflex was to flail as the rum cake neared my elbow but that is exactly what I did and it went sailing into the air like a great, majestic donut, at which point, some woefully mistaken part of me still unwilling to accept the fact that I have NO coordination at all, thought "OOH! I CAN CATCH THAT AND IT WILL BE AWESOME!" I watched the rum cake rise as if in slow motion, enhaloed in shimmering honeyed god rays of sunlight. My hand came up, then down, my fingers clenched… NAILED IT!

Except I didn't because my fingers clenched like a second too late and instead, I ended up slam-dunking Bilbo right in the head. He scrambled away into the corner and glowered at me with the seething hatred of a thousand volcanoes. I can't say as I blame him. I mean, how would you feel if you were minding your own damn business only to find yourself on the receiving end of a random meteoric rum cake smiting? My dogs caught wind of this at which point they both ran out into the kitchen and froze, like… Dog.exe has stopped functioning because the conflict between wanting to "Hungry Hungry Hippo floorbound food" and "chase cat" fried their little doggy brains.

Thus commenced the great doggo-kitty turf war of 2017. There were dogs flying this way, cats sailing that way, skirmishes under the table, a battle on the couch, and a siege into the catlands behind the baby gate whereupon doggos were never meant to tread which ended in a stalemate behind the toilet. I was legitimately surprised the dogs opted to engage the cats over the rum cake but at least that allowed me sufficient time to scoop it up and see if it was salvageable.

Aside from a little cat hair, it was okay. I gave it a bath in some eggnog (would have used milk but we were out and not a single one of the fucknodules I live with thought to put it on the grocery list) then I set it in the oven for a bit because I was NOT about to let this big, beautiful rum cake be ruined by cat hair and kitchen floor detritus. It was surprisingly quite yummy heated up which is great but I think Bilbo probably won't be speaking to me for a while.

TL;DR: TIFU by slam-dunking my cat in the head with rum cake.

I sit hunched over a desk for hours on end, staring at a computer screen, making incremental changes to Photoshop documents and agonizing relentlessly over minutiae most people won't even notice, hoping that the end result will yield enough e-validation to fill the gaping crater where my self-esteem is supposed to be.

I also like to ruin my knees while daydreaming about being a beautiful, intelligent, talented, rich, overachieving hero set to a soundtrack of the same five or six songs on repeat that I will eventually get tired of as mosquitoes chase me through hot, humid flying spider-infested Florida backstreets every night for about an hour because I have trouble accepting the increasingly difficult to ignore fact that you can't out-exercise a bad diet and if you want to be thin, especially if you come from a family with a strong genetic predisposition towards obesity, you can only eat the things you like once in a very rare while or in such minuscule quantities that you might as well not be eating them at all which relegates you to either eating so little that you feel like you're constantly starving or eating things you absolutely loathe with the seething hatred of a thousand suns such as beets, carrots, and celery that smell and taste like literal, actual poison to you because your parents were idiotic fuckknobs who raised you on a diet of pure sugar so everything that doesn't have sugar in it tastes like bullshit and you're probably going to develop Type 2 Diabetes at some point but perhaps if you exercise excessively enough you can stave it off until your patellas disintegrate at the age of 40 which is coming up a lot more rapidly than you would ever have thought possible because time seems to speed up exponentially with every passing year which makes you afraid to blink as you might suddenly find yourself playing bingo to a soundtrack of wheezing, coughing, and nebulizers but even that is probably fairly optimistic as you'll be lucky to make 45 before that heart attack, stroke, or aneurysm finally decides to happen.

I also occasionally like to sit down with a hunk of dead tattooed plant matter and disengage from reality because that is much more enjoyable than doing the other things I should be doing instead such as paying bills, vacuuming, dusting, talking on the phone with health insurance representatives from India who I can't understand, and interacting with escaped Dunning-Kruger research monkeys in an attempt to sort out why my internet moves at the speed of grass growing... in a place where there is no grass... and why my DISH TV box keeps recording Game of Thrones en Español even though I have it set to record the English channel.

(Would you believe me if I told you I'm actually a decently happy person for the most part? :P)

I also like to shart my navel-gazing prattle into textfields so that maybe five or six other people will read it and reply with their own comments which is more satisfying than doing other things I should be doing like taking a shower and doing the laundry and generally being an adult.

Between FA, DA, my inbox, and the antenna on my tinfoil hat, I have received butt many questions and I shall proceed with launch in 3… 2… 1… *extremely uneventful and anticlimactic sputtering* That should satisfy your koala. I anticipate cheese. Thank you.

Q: Why derpy frog?

A: He just kinda became a "thing" in the same way internet "things" sometimes do. He debuted in this piece: http://bjpentecost.deviantart.com/a.....-dis-175295740 and for some reason, people just latched onto him. Ever since then, he's appeared in nearly all my pieces. In fact, people get angry with me if I don't include him. XD

~

Q: Do you need hugs?

A: Not at the moment but I will take one mmeeeeeellion dollars, pleez.

~

Q: How is your username PRONOUNCED?!?

A: SES-quip-ed-AIL-ean. The alternative pronunciation, VAIR-is-sim-ill-eh-TOOD-in-us, is equally acceptable. You may also call me silver one, I suppose, if you like, though, I don't know why you would when you could call me sesquipedalian or verisimilitudinous instead.

~

Q: What is that thing? Why do you bother hiding it with clothes?

A: I could tell you, but then I'd have to dunk you upside-down into a vat of chocolate and toss you in the sexy-sexy pit. That could be a wonderful experience or the most terrifying ordeal of your life depending on your proclivities. I will give you one item of your choosing with which to defend yourself. Liberal interpretation of the word "defend" may be applicable.

~

Q: I want the interpretive dance version.

A: "I can't," Silverone sighed, staring over the balcony as if the secrets to life itself dwelled there in the shadowy teal and burgundy foliage far below. A couple of drunken party-goers giggled across the courtyard, running this way and that.

"Why not?" the questioner asked, quirking a wry brow at the couple. The woman cackled and flapped around a corner like a chicken being chased by a fox and the man growled after her.

"Last time… I…" Siverone paused long in silence. "People died." The Grecian pillar to her left abruptly became much more interesting. She turned away from him to examine the faint craquelure and exposed nibbles of grit beneath the pearlescent skin. A vainglory beetle shimmied up the fluting, its mirrorshine wings reflecting flashes of sunset and splashes of encroaching night sky. She envied it for its obliviousness. Apparently, it had some very important beetle business to attend or perhaps took offence at her closeness and flew off in a noisy flutter.

The questioner stared in stunned silence, scrabbling for clarity but the cacophony of squealing party favors and drunken cheering knocked down any thoughts that climbed too high. After a long bought of gathering his piecemeal thoughts, he finally managed to blurt a single word; "what!?"

"You heard me," she answered more curtly than intended.

"I don't understand." A whispering breeze teased a skirt of wind chimes overhead. The silver and crystal sang pretty lies but he felt the year necrosing around him, deep in his bones, like creeping tendrils of arthritis. Twenty-sixteen could not be done with soon enough for his liking. The whole year had been one long farcical cavalcade of misery and regret from start to finish. Though there were only a few hours left of it, he feared what malevolence twenty-sixteen could get up to even in that short span of time. The year had pulled no punches.

"You don't need to understand," she warned. "All you need to know is that I can't; not unless you want twenty-seventeen to be even worse than twenty-sixteen."

The questioner jerked back as if she had thrown a bucket of ice water in his face. "What do you mean?"

"I mean exactly what I said." Her voice was cold and sharp as the sighing shing of a leyic blade being drawn from its sheath.

A-are you saying… all of this… this entire year…"

"Is my fault?" She turned away again, unable to meet his eyes. "How was I supposed to know it would come to this?"

He shook his head, his face melting into an expression of abject dismay. "David Bowie? Harambe? Prince? Carrie Fisher?" His eyes darted about frantically, his mind flashing with imagery of all the mayhem and heartache the year had wrought. "TRUMP!?"

The telltale pop of a champagne cork preceded shattering glass followed by a wave of uproarious cheering, laughter, and applause.

Silverone nodded.

The questioner stared horror-stricken, shaking his head. "Y-you have to fix it! You have to reverse it!"

"And risk making it worse!?" she spat. "No. I wouldn't dare. Honestly, I don't think there's anything left to do but let it burn. Maybe we can build something better out of the ashes."

"But…" Something inside exploded and a fire erupted to boisterous cheering.

"But nothing. My power was clearly not meant to be used this way."

"Then, pray tell, how was it meant to be used?" he demanded.

"You don't want to know."

"Yes, I really do," he pressed, leaning in close. "You owe me that much."

Silverone sighed. "Alright. You asked for it." She leapt up to the banister with all the grace of a unicorn. Amethyst, pearl, and blue topaz silks flowed about her, billowing as if caught in an ethyreal gust. She held out her arms to the setting sun and breathed deeply of its fading golden rays. The coin belt around her ample hips began to jingle. The bracelets, baubles, and beaded strings tingled like wind chimes and bells, glistening with stars of trapped light. Her silks shimmied with her movements like rippling water.

From the foothills to the desert, from the snowfields to the city, from the riverlands to the plateaus to the mountain peaks and forests, every male stopped as if frozen in time. Mid conversation, working the fields, eating, gardening, walking, reading, sleeping, painting, mid coitus- their heads turned east. Their legs moved of their own accord, dragging them forth in a stampede that rolled across the land like a tidal wave.

"NO! GOD! PLEASE STOP!" the questioner cried out but it was too late for he was too a boy and thus compelled, same as all the others, to Silverone's yard. He flung himself over the balcony, unable to resist the siren call.

"IT'S BETTER THAN YOURS!" a man shouted at his very confused wife then scrambled through the mansion out into the yard with all the others congregating there.

"DAMN RIGHT!" Silverone bellowed in a tremulous voice with all the might and fury of an erupting volcano. And she shook her milk all night long, until the curtains closed on twenty-sixteen.

I am a fucking idiot. Why do you people put up with me? I wouldn't. Jesus Christ.

~

Q: Was twenty-sixteen really that bad?

A: Aside from the election of a walking 4chan meme to the most powerful political position on the planet, eh. I think it's more that the age has come for many where death is becoming uncomfortably real. We make jokes and laugh about it, threatening to form protective circles around Betty White and Sir Ian McKellan which is answered with "don't give 2016 any ideas" but the truth is, we're starting to realize that maybe there is no magical mystical beardy father figure in the sky promising an eternity of perfect bliss. Maybe the singularity isn't going to happen and Ray Kurzweil isn't going to descend in a cloud of nanoparticles to bring us to the transhumanist promised lands. Maybe we're not going to reincarnate as someone rich and powerful and impossibly awesome or whatever else.

We're starting to realize that just like our heroes, just like the people we loved and admired and looked up to throughout so much of our childhoods, we are going to stop existing and the universe will go on without us until its heat death or obliteration by vacuum decay at which point the transcendent beings will end the simulation and humanity will be relegated to a footnote of a footnote of a footnote in some unimportant footnote of a footnote of a footnote. Maybe we'll get an honorable mention for having almost become a class one civilization before we blew ourselves up and fulfilled the more dour predictions of the Fermi paradox.

~

Q: Got a favorite aircraft?

A: Serenity! :D But now for my real answer… I don't really tend to care too much about vehicles except in their capacity to provide interesting set pieces or plot devices. Being stranded in a spaceship or on a ship at sea, murder mystery on a train, Snowpiercer, Speed- the ideas are infinitely more interesting to me than the vehicles themselves. The only exception to this might be motorcycles. They can be sexy, cool, badass, intimidating, or even terrifying. They're very versatile and there's something more personable about them than other vehicles. I can't really explain why I feel that way. Perhaps it's because you can actually see the people riding on them and in a way, they're almost as much a character-revealing accessory as a vehicle.

~

Q: After the recent disappointing Assassin's Creed movie, do you think it is possible to make a really great videogame movie that competes with other great non-videogame related movies?

A: I think it is perfectly possible to make a great videogame movie. I believe this hasn't happened yet because the following criteria have not been met:

- It would require a great director.
- Who is good at telling stories.
- And isn't afraid to tell a story beyond what we've seen in the videogames.
- Has an intimate knowledge of the material.
- And who not only *knows* the material but understands *the spirit of the material.*
- It would have to be acted out by great actors.
- Who have at least some knowledge of the source material.
- And of course, it would require other things that go into great movies such as good editing, seamless effects, soundtrack etc.

These things simply have not crossed paths yet (imo).

Let's take the Assassin's creed verse for example. We tell the story of an assassin not yet explored in the game series. Her name is Hannah. She is a young 13yo girl; bright, curious, as adventurous as she's allowed to be which is not very. She is normal in just about every way... until the day her mother and father are found brutally murdered in their bedroom. The estate is suddenly overrun by fighting men. Everything is on fire. She's terrified. She doesn't know what to do. A hooded woman in white appears and holds out her hand, changing Hannah's life forever.

The story revolves around this hooded woman teaching Hannah how to be an assassin and more importantly, how to be a *woman* assassin. Fact is, nearly all men are stronger than nearly all women. Your average guy is stronger than literally 99.9% of women. Nearly all of Hannah's opponents are going to be bigger than her and at least twice as strong as her, probably more so since they aren't going to be average men. Thus, if a woman is going to be an assassin, it's going to be very different from how men do it. I think it would be very interesting to explore that idea.

Her assassin's garb could turn inside out to look like peasantwear or a noble woman's garb or a courtesan's dress. Perhaps she could have different outfits for different assignments. She could have wigs and a makeup kit on hand to do a quick contour job and make herself look like someone else (dunno how feasible that is, just spitballing ideas). She would have to learn how to fight against opponents who are bigger and literally more than twice as strong as she is by using their weight and momentum against them, by being smart, cunning, resourceful, and flexible. Perhaps she develops her own code that she will not kill anyone, not even an aggressor, unless the person is on her list of targets. I could go on all day and this is just ONE idea I pulled out of my arse on the fly without even putting much thought into it. I could come up with Assassin's Creed story possibilities in my sleep.

Here's where this idea would go wrong- shitty director with dollar signs in his eyes sees a way to pander to women and get easy money with minimal work. He scrabbles together a few shitty actors and maybe a decent one or two but most of the budget is going towards garish, second rate CGI effects anyway so one or two is the best he can do. He tells this story with sloppy, unsubtle, shoehorned in lesbian overtones. Get the male butts in the seats too! Two birds, one stone. Shoehorn in a male love interest for drama's sake because reasons and why not?

What we end up with is a crappy telling of what could have been a great story acted out by actors whose only motivation is "erotica" which pisses off both men and women because both groups know they're being shamelessly pandered to and don't appreciate the tactless, patronizing tone or sloppy exploitive manner in which the subjects were handled. Somehow, the movie still makes A LOT of money despite being universally panned so an equally crappy sequel is inevitable.

There is, IMO, not a single damn thing stopping a truly great videogame movie from happening except that the aforementioned requirements have yet to cross paths.

~

Q: What do you want to get for Christmas?

A: Material things don't do much for me unless they facilitate my creative process in some way which is problematic because my creative process involves some pretty expensive stuff and I don't know any benevolent loaded millionaires. :p If I knew any, I'd ask for a supercomputer with Photoshop Creative Cloud, Zbrush, Vray, Maya, Vue, and a personal renderfarm but that's not going to happen. So I usually ask for videogames, books, and pajama pants because my closet eats pajama pants for some reason. I swear, one day, the damn thing is just going to explode and every pair of pajama pants I have ever owned is going to come spewing out in a big, watery belch, leaving a pajama pants-strewn hole in the north wall of my room.

~

Q: What.... is your favourite colour? -no wait, I think we can all guess that one…

A: I bet you can't either. Go ahead, try. I guarantee not a single one of you knows it.

~

Q: Beside PS and digital painting, what is your favourite software/medium?

A: Absolutely, one-hundred percent, hands down, no contest, ZBRUSH. I worship at the altar of Zbrush. Pixologic is my god. I. Fucking. LOVE Zbrush. I wish all creative developers were as innovative and facilitative as Pixologic. I swear to every possibly existing god, every time I think they can't possibly make this program any better, they go and make the program better. Gggaaawwwddd I love the Zmodeler tools.

~

Q: Who or what are you? and if so, how many?

A: I am become Tacobell, destroyer of toilets. *arises in a cloud of guacamole, pico de gallo, and three-cheese blend*

~

Q: Vaccum decay? guh ya made me google that!

A: Interesting stuff. Learned about it from Kurzgeskjnaksjnfkjbtn. I'm not even going to try. Relevant: https://www.youtube.com/user/Kurzgesagt/videos (Edit: Oh, hey, look, there it is right there in the link. Hodor.)

~

Q: what does one have to do to win your heart?

A: The following requirements must be met:

1.) Must be roughly 9.4697e-5 miles tall.
2.) Must weigh approximately 0.000223214 imperial tons.
3.) Must generally fall somewhere between 2.628e+15 nanoseconds and 3.154e+16 nanoseconds old.
4.) Must be a member of the species, F. catus.

In all seriousness, I need someone who is intelligent, creative, has a sense of humor, is compassionate, empathetic, and shares my love of fantasy, science, RPing, and long thoughtful conversations. Must also like fluffy women because try though I may, I am, have always been, and probably always will be pretty damn fluffy. None of that is negotiable but most everything else is just different flavored cake icing.

~

Q: Miss Pantycoast, are the rumors about you and the sentient potato, true? The internet demands answers.

A: Firstly, I'll have you know that it's PantyCOATS, you ignoble sea marmot! Secondly, how dare you!? I am a sentient TOMATO. There is a HUGE difference. I mean really, people, come on. This is 2016… for the moment anyway.

~

Q: What's your favorite part when working on a new project?

A: In almost every painting I've ever done, there's a point I reach where it's all a smooth downhill slide to the finish line and I can focus on the fun stuff like detailing. That's my favorite part. I love getting wrapped up in detailing, especially jewelry and attire.

~

Q: What kinds of things helped inspire your fantasy world?

A: Whooo! That would be a very long list to fully flesh out so I'll TL;DR it: The Last Unicorn, The Lion King, the Legacy of Kain: Soul Reaver series, and Disney movies in general had a HUGE impact on my artistic development. Recently, however, I am becoming increasingly inspired by, of all things, chemistry, which I absolutely HATED in high school and barely even passed. I've become weirdly fanatical about it lately. It hasn't shown up in my artwork but it will soon… eh… rather someday when I manage to claw my way out from under commission mountain.

~

Q: Can I have a cookie?

A: Not unless you fandango your homework first and you'd better do a good rumcake impression or you're not getting any at all. I swear, I will absolutely revoke your electronegativity without hesitation. I might even go so far as to fluorinate your ass. You don't want that. Trust me.

~

Q: Why isn't the world octagonal?

A: Little known fact- the world actually was effectively octagonal at one point. In its very early formation, after the collision with the asteroidal body which we now know as Mars, Earth took on a roughly octagonal form. Due to the prevalence of carbon and its strong tendency to form tightly-knit hexagonal substrates with silicate minerals and ionic hydrogen (specifically in conditions of high pressure and heat), enormous spans of flat surfaces began to propagate from the concretion process. The very same polar covalent functions that are hypothesized to have instigated abiogenesis spurred on carbonosilicate substrate propagation so perfectly, the effect seemed almost procedurally generated, something that is considered mathematically sound evidence for the "Simulation Hypothesis."

As the concretion process slowed down, Earth was left, for a brief (relatively, in cosmic terms) period of time, with large octagonal facets, each spanning thousands of kilometers. Eventually, gravity, van der waals, and the strong nuclear forces colluded in crunching it all down to the lovely Earthen shape we know and love today- an oblate spheroidal pear.

Source: B. Taurus Egesta.

~

Q: Are you good at interpretive dance?

A: We've been over this. I can't. Not unless you want 2017 to be even more catastrophic than 2016. At this rate, there would be nothing left of Earth but a giant smoldering anus floating in space come 2018.

~

Q: Can I have 2 cookies?

A: Get out of here with this Oliver Twist bullshit. Have you fandangoed your damn homework yet? Because if not, your ass is getting fluorinated. You've been warned.

~

Q: Is art your full time job? If so, when did you decide your work was professional enough to do so?

A: Yes. I started taking it seriously a few years ago. I realized that I can write my own ticket, set my own schedule, and be my own boss. I'll probably never be rich but I can work from home in my pajamas so there's that.

~

Q: If you had to start all over again and you wanted to get to where you are now, what would you do differently?

A: It's tough to say. I almost think the obsessive "art is life" and "art = self-esteem" phase I went through in my late teen/early adult years was unnecessary but I'm not sure it was. I don't have enough perspective. I don't know many other artists on a personal level so I don't know what their experiences are. Maybe if I had grown up emotionally healthy and happy, I wouldn't be as good as I am today. Or maybe I would have. Maybe all the suffering and obsessing and approval-seeking has ultimately made no difference in my artistic progress.

Otherwise, I can't think of too many other things I'd do differently aside from obvious things like practice more, study more, more perspective work, more pose work, etc etc.

~

Q: how much of the finished picture is in your head when you start creating?

A: Sometimes all of it, sometimes none of it, sometimes some of it. Depends on what I'm doing. If I'm doing a commission, I need to have a strong mental image to work by. If I'm doing something for myself that's unimportant, then I can just sit back, relax, and enjoy the brainfart-powered journey.

~

Q: What is the hardest part of the process for you?

A: Getting started. That's always the hardest, most tedious, difficult, brain-straining part for me. This is actually one of the reasons I love incorporating Zbrush into my paintings. Zbrush allows me to free-flow, spitball, and rapid-prototype ideas without having to commit upfront. I can experiment with poses, perspective, and props.

~

Q: First furry gal-crush? First furry guy-crush?

A: I think this is probably cheating but the answers to both of these questions are two of my characters.

First furry boy crush: http://bjpentecost.deviantart.com/a.....ge-1-521632846

First furry girl crush: http://bjpentecost.deviantart.com/a.....e-AU-438547712 This one is technically a guy but I have a female version of him and I am ass over teakettle in love with her.

~

Q: Venison or bison?

A: Wildebeest.

~

Q: Can I have 3 cookies?

A: Do you want a fluoroantimonic acid enema? Because that's how you get a fluoroantimonic acid enema. Now fandango your damn homework. I won't tell you again. Jesus. You fucking people.

~

Q: Which word do you use sarcastically: Shagging, yiffing, swiving, plowing, or other?

A: Forking.

~

Q: Vampires or werewolves? Vampires on werewolves or werewolves on vampires?

A: Why draw arbitrary lines in the sand when we can just open the doors and let everyone in? Gargoyles, satyrs, merfolk, centaurs, demons- I'm a free love kinda gal, though, I draw the line at Deep Ones. No tentacles allowed. I mean, I'm totally okay with other people being into that but it's not my thing.

~

Q: Is competitive ass-dragging a thing? Would taurs have competitive ass-dragging races?

A: So far as I know, it is actually a thing, but you have to get elected first and unfortunately, I think the competition is over for now. IIRC, we'll get another one in 2018, assuming we haven't blown ourselves up by then.

~

Q: SQUIRREL!

A: *brandishes cone of shame*

~

Q: Leeks or onions?

A: Ya know, I've never actually had leeks so I'm going to have to go with onions. I LOVE red onions and I'll put them on just about everything except, strangely, pizza. I don't like onions on pizza and I have no idea why since I like just about everything else on pizza. Parmesan/garlic white sauce? Hell yes. Banana peppers? Mmmhmm. Feta? Oh yeah. Spinach? Muchly. Mushrooms? Give it to me, babay! Garlic? Yes, please. Pepperoni? Absolutely. Jalapenos? If I'm feelin extra spicy, sure. Bacon? Damn straight. Ham? Okay. Sausage? Maybe. All of these things at once? Sure, why not? Onions? WELL THAT'S JUST UNREASONABLE!

~

Q: If Trump is Putin's pet carrot and Putin's secretly in the closet, does that mean Putin's a power bottom?

A: I don't know that your conclusion is necessarily tenable based on the premise. I'm not saying you're wrong. You might very well be right but there's not enough evidence to come to that conclusion. However, if Trump really is Putin's pet carrot and Putin is secretly in the closet, I think it is fair to say that carrot will soon be getting some serious comeuppance. (Is there a medal for pulling off a triple entendre?)

~

Q: Which combination of genders and personalities do you prefer to be FAQed by?

A: I am happy to be FAQed by any gender really. When it comes to FAQing and related activities, I'm really more interested in the aforementioned "things necessary to capture my heart."

~

Q: How have you been? You haven't posted any real general life posts for a while.

A: Eh. Been better, been worse. I haven't really posted much about myself recently because I'm always afraid it's going to somehow start a flamewar. I once made a post about what the weather was like in WA and the comments erupted into a flame war between people who could not reconcile that WA is a big state and has different weather systems along the cost and eastern border. Jinkies Christ, people will fight over anything.

~

Q: Did you end up getting fallout 4, if so did you enjoy it? Were there any other rpg games that surpassed it this cycle?

A: Alas, no, I have not. I probably will at some point, though, I have heard some unfavorable reviews and that makes me unsure whether I want to spend the money or not. The Witcher 3, despite some obnoxious flaws, was A LOT of fun. I really quite enjoyed it… even if Geralt was a bit of a Marty Stu.

~

Q: Since I am relatively young I don't have a real memory of other political phases, have there other transitions or phases that have looked as bad as this upcoming one?

A: Not ever in the history of my entire 33 years on this planet have I ever seen anything as ridiculous as this past election cycle, at least not in America. I am absolutely shocked by how many people genuinely seem to think Trump being elected is a good thing and the rationalizations are so far beyond absurd, it makes me wonder if some of these people aren't legitimately insane. "Liberals told me that I have to not be a cunt and I didn't like that so I voted for the walking 4chan meme with no political experience and a long history of corrupt, exploitive, sociopathic, unethical business practices." The fuck? I mean, I don't like Hillary either but for Flying Spaghetti Monster's sake, people…

~

Q: When will you be leaving Florida? I fear that the continual heat and humidity has had a corrosive presence, as recorded by this website

A: As soon as I can afford to. I hate literally almost everything about this state. The ONLY reasons I am staying here is because I can't afford to leave at the moment and because it has a low cost of living. Otherwise, I would be out of here.

~

Q: will there ever be another installment of the episodes of your puntastic gift and or your pants?

A: Yes, though, I don't know if anything will ever beat "tightlipped and forthcoming" or "Jesus Christ, quit being such a martyr." *facepalms* I don't know why people tolerate my existence sometimes. If I weren't me, I'd probably kill me in my sleep.

~

Q: Did you ever end up using the answers to the earth-sci chem questions?

A: Yes. And it will be making its way into my art… eventually… after I manage to dig my way out from under commission mountain.

~

Q: It seems like your eyes have finally become stable, is that the case?

A: Yes and no. I now know (or think I know) the cause (or indirect cause) of my eye problems and I can sometimes head it off by engaging my liver and kidneys in combat which I typically win with heaping mounds of Excedrin Migraine and Advil. However, there are still days where I feel like I'm getting double-dicked in both eye sockets without lube and there's nothing I can do but lay in bed like a beached squid until the meds kick in.

~

Q: Any pieces of media that you've encountered over the last year or so that seems to really stick with you?

A: "Fenton! FENTON! FENNNTON! Jesos Chroist. FENTONNNN!" Apparently that's old but I completely missed it. So glad I found it this year. I don't think I've ever laughed so hard at anything ever and I'm not even sure why. I mean, was it really that funny? Yes. The answer to that is yes.

In all seriousness though, there were actually a few things that did stick with me but most of them were not good and I'm not sure I want to ruin everyone's mood by sharing. 2016 was actually kind of a beyotch.

~

Q: What systems and rulesets do you run with your rpg games? Do you make use of pre generated worlds, or has your group developed its own?

A: I've only run a few official games (Cthulhu and Rifts) but I do also run my own Bobbie Jeanoverse RPs using my own system which is kind of a bastardization of whatever I feel works well from other systems. I draw up character stats and have my players use the DnD dice roller ap. I also run other RPs that are purely story based and don't really require a system. The players decide whether they succeed or fail for themselves.

~

Q: You've been surprisingly well versed in scientific theory for your profession, has there been any papers or fields that has caught your eye over the past year or so?

A: I could write a mile-long list but here are a few notable scientific discoveries/advances/papers/etc that have caught my eye:

https://www.eurekalert.org/pub_rele.....-scs052616.php

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releas.....0609142426.htm

https://wexnermedical.osu.edu/media.....ther-movements

http://www.abc.net.au/news/2016-10-.....30?pfmredir=sm

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Linea.....tylenic_carbon

We are also apparently developing bionic eyes that restore eyesight to the blind, CRISPR advances that may cure fatal genetic illnesses, and an EM-drive that doesn't in fact defy physics and actually works… fancy that.

~

Q: Have you ever tried dark souls or its sequels? It isn't an RPG for talking but the worlds and lore are amazing.

A: Alas, nope. I'm not sure I want to either. I've heard it is amazing but I've also heard it is the among the most frustrating game series of all time.

~

Q: Lastly, have you tried balancing out the coffee with some tea?

A: I wonder what they would taste like together. >8} I must try this. FOR SCIENCE!

~

"And that's that," Silverone said, to the sea of gaping, horror-stricken faces.

A long, uncomfortable silence persisted, pocked by the occasional cough or shuffling of feet. When it became clear no one would dare break the seemingly universal agreement not to intrude upon the burgeoning silence, she shrank back with a sigh. After all, the performance had been quite trying for anyone bearing the slightest shred of empathy or decency and gods help anyone possessing even a modicum of logic or rationality.

As she prepared to exit stage left, a diminutive, elderly gentleman at the very back of the room stood up. He was but a silhouette amidst the shadows. Those around him cringed away as if he might infect them with whatever madness compelled him to stand. "Beg pardon, miss, but," he paused, "well, does this, this… atrocity have a name?"

Silverone's face contorted into a bloody rictus and her arms spread wide as if to embrace the people, every single one of whom were waiting for a proprietous moment to dash for the exits. A few had already left their seats and scurried down the aisles.

"I call it, The Aristocrats." The doors slammed shut with the sound of a guillotine crashing down and the lights went out.

Some of you will remember my last Out of Context List: http://bjpentecost.deviantart.com/j.....ants-392859927 and you may (or may not) be glad to know that I have compiled even more topnotch what the fuckery! These are things that have been said either by me or to me by friends and family, things that I'm not even really sure make sense in context, let alone outside of context.

NSFW. If you would like to know the context behind any of these, ask and ye shall receive... but be careful what you wish for. There's a good chance you're happier not knowing. ;)

Without further adoodiness, I present.... Out of context!

~~~

Get your rifle out and aim it at my tits.

*Pulls up to drive through window, woman leans out and looks at us* do you guys have a dryer sheet in your car?

Well I'm sorry! This thing does not come with a "vagina owner's instruction manual!"

I promise, There are no furbies in my pants.

How is your face over here when your ass is over here too?

The one time I try to do something nice for you and I end up burning your dick off.

I do not believe in pants. I am an apantsiest.

Anthony Ihopkins starring in The Silence of the Pancakes.

*Said with total and complete seriousness* How much do we want to light this guy on fire?

There are many things I am certain of in this life and among them, the fact that yams do not have wheels.

You mutilate it to your specifications and I'll take whatever's left over.

As long as nobody fucks the monkeys, it shouldn't be a problem.

You're supposed to walk with you feet, not with your face.

All aboard the HMS Taco Bell, destination Toilet Town. Toot! Toot!

What are you going to do, steer with your vagina?

*Shouted with great desperation* I NEED A ZEBRA'S ASS!

Is Febreeze still Febreeze if it comes out of a cat's ass?

*Said with a totally straight face* Would we actually survive a rain of flaming testicles right now?

Fortunately for the ships, my butt-crack tends to be fairly benevolent.

How did you find so many gay squirrels in that short amount of time?

Mmm… nothing quite like waking up to the smell of buttcrack and assorted detritus jammed into a restaurant booth cushion. Check, please.

You have a kink for being stuck in a big white satellite dish with flashing light beams while wearing an eyepatch and spanking a table? That's a very specific kink. I don't know if I can help you with that one.

Dude.... we live in an age where you can Google Map the precise location of your own anus!

How would you know? Have you fucked a lot of capybaras?

That's the most musical blowjob I've ever had!

And the juicer victoriously held the flaming metal buttocks over his head.....

*A few minutes later* Sorry, I'm a little occupied at the moment. I've got a flaming, assless metal buffalo in a headlock. Can I call you back later?

Why are you honking my daughter?

Poop and forward momentum..... Three words you don't want to hear in the same sentence.

Well what do you expect!? They were just tortured by an antelope! Of course they're traumatized!

You may be strong but you are not impervious to TREES!

Ah yes. I remember it well, the great battle of Flame Crabs versus Sparkle Herpes.

Who the hell sucks on pizza? That's just.... wrong.

Q:Why are there pants in my mailbox?
A: I was mailing them to congress to express the notion that I am tired of being fucked with my pants on.

I wonder how many other people can honestly boast having fucked another dimension?

I didn't sneeze, I was trying to get rid of the submarine.

You groom me and eat my fleas and I will let you bang my ass.

IT'S LIKE EATING CHOCOLATE WITH MY SHOULDER! *rolling around on the floor*

Alright but don't start cleaning your ass in my ear, I hate when you do that.

I just used the vacuum to vacuum the vacuum in a vacuum.

When did Bilbo and Frodo stop being lesbian terrorists?

It's a little nub of minty wax… why am I reacting to it like its a penis?

Pierce his skull and drink him like a milkshake.

Fuck you, lettuce, sincerely, Bobbie Jean.

JESUS CHRIST, FLORIDA! WHAT THE !@#$%^&*!? WHY THE !@#$%^&* WOULD YOU DO THAT!? I mean really. Of all the places to put a !@#$%^&*damn snake…

My dick has heard every word you've said, FYI.

I would invite you two as witnesses but I don't want him masturbating near my wedding.

Me: So how did the bathroom get pregnant exactly?
RB: Jonathan.
Me: Ah. Yes. I now understand.

I eat rabies for breakfast.

I leave you assholes alone for like... what, two minutes? And I come back to find that you've got a goddamned gnome trapped in a fleshlight like an ice cream cone. Jesus Christ. You're like children!

Shakespearazine! Side effects may include dryness, redness, flatulence, histrionics, and involuntary iambic pentameter.

Sparkle Herpes II, the Reckoning: Itchy Blister Pants Apocalypse.

His pee smells like Spaghettios and videogames.

Boy, it's a good thing I had those ass-parachutes installed or I'd be a gonner!

Nobody forced you to pee on the evil!

Pardon me while I fart into that pumpkin over there.

It sounds like you're molesting an ostrich with jumper cables.

No. His balls would be soft like furry little gerbils.

*In the voice of a pirate* You'll just be sitting there, minding your own business, when suddenly… butt whales. No one ever sees the butt whales coming. Appear out of nowhere, they do. Butt whales… *stares grimly off into the distance*

You are using an ice pick made of iron to ironically remove a song about ice from your head.

How many hit points would a dick have?

His cock gets a damage bonus. COCKSLAP! Roll a D4+25% damage bonus.

I mean really, if you're going to assault someone with a jar of mayonnaise, you might as well go for one of the conventional targets like the head or the gut or even the ass! But the armpit!? That just makes no kind of sense.

I didn't know there was other naked flesh in the room.

To my knowledge, no one has ever been imprisoned for murdering a microwave.

Yes, I love Japanese food, especially when it's running away and screaming WE MUST FLEE THE CITY!

How many snowbirds can you fit in the head of a scud missile? I don't know but we must find out… FOR SCIENCE!

I'm more of a harpoonist myself. I've never liked diapers.

I cannot respect a thing until I have fucked it.

*shouted with great desperation* Ketchup is my life!

*shouted with great desperation* Purses are like ketchup!

Poor guy. He's suffering from Minotaur pattern baldness.

"Left butt cheek" is not a unit of measurement.

Coming! .......right in my pizza.

Gotta admire a grenade that has initiative.

I don't want to make a commitment but I don't want to not make a commitment… which may be the most noncommittal thing ever said in the history of ever.

She kept slapping him in the camera with a fish like WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU!? WHY WILL YOU NOT TAKE MY OFFERING!?

It's basically global warming but with demons.

The éclairs are attacking! I knew it was them! Those bastards.

Danger is my middle name! …and Emergency Room is my last name.

Where there's three cocks, a will, and Jeff Goldblum, there's a way!


~~~

I jog for an hour every night at 9pm on the dot. I've been doing this for the past decade. Unfortunately, I have been stuck in Florida for the past decade... so yeah, suck. Major suck. I hate Florida. It's hot, muggy, buggy, rainy, full of TERRIBLE drivers, and it's also the lightning capital of the country. But I *rrreeeaaalllyyy* hate exercising indoors (probably because I am stuck indoors all day long, usually) so I suck it up and jog outside.

Last night, I couldn't go out at 9 on the dot like I usually do because it was raining pretty hardcore so I went out at 10 instead and to my great fortune, it was not raining! Yay. As I headed towards the blessedly "carless, peopleless, dogless" section of my jogging route, I came upon a woman talking to an old guy in a car parked in the middle of the !@#$%^&*ING ROAD with dogs EVERYWHERE. She had two dogs on a leash and he had TEN MILLION dogs in the backseat of his car.

I mmmmaayyyy have a not-so-slight deeply ingrained avoidance complex stemming from decades of harassment and bullying that began from the age of seven and followed me all the way up until I graduated college. So… yeah. If I can avoid people, I *very* much prefer to avoid people. I slooowwwwed wwwaaaayyyy down. Then I stopped. Then I knelt and pretended to tie my shoe. Then I pretended to tie my other shoe. Then I readjusted my hair tie as sloooowwwlllyyy as I could. Then I mulled over the option of turning around and exercising indoors. Then I considered cutting through the swampy tick, gnat, flea, snake, mosquito, and alligator infested greenbelt to go around them... ANYTHING but having to get within ten feet of PEEEOOOPLLE. (Highly abnormal, I know.)

Well, they noticed my antics and started glancing over at me with worried expressions. 'Welp, the jig is up,' I thought. 'Might as well do ~that thing~ I spend 3/4s of my life trying to avoid.... dealing with...... ppppeeeeeoooppple!' THE HORROR! So I started jogging towards them. For a very short chubster with a bad left knee, I can go pretty fast, especially when propelled by avoidance complex. AVOIDANCE COMPLEX POWERS ACTIVATE! SSSHHHOOOOOM! *-sideways mushroom cloud-*

I figured I could just zip on by, get it over with, ya know, like ripping off a Band aid. So I ran my big ass past them until they were out of eyesight which is the way I prefer other people to be. I'm fine with you, as long as I can't see you. If I can see you, YOU ARE IN MY PERSONAL SPACE. GET OUT BEFORE I BITE YOU. Unless I like you. Then you can stay and I won't bite you.... generally.

Just as I was making it to the free zone where no one treads but me, that car went whizzing past and the old guy gave me this look like I was an escaped mental patient shambling around in my underwear clutching a bloody axe. 'Ah well,' I thought, jogging along, 'I'll probably never see any of these ~peeeeeople~ again anyway. So, no matter.' That was what I thought… UNTILLLLL…..!

OF COURSE that !@#$%^&*ING WOMAN would walk her !@#$%^&*ING DOGS onto MY JOGGING ROUTE. YOU BITCH! HOW DARE YOU! This is MY TERRITORY! GET OUT or I am going to BITE YOU AANNDDD your STUPID LITTLE DOGS! I smiled politely and said "good evening." She will never know that behind my polite smile was seething anger and a sincere desire to launch her out of a cannon into a crater on Mars.

That was when she did THE UNTHINKABLE. *le gasp* "Excuse me, miss?"

NNNOOOO!!!! WHYYYYY!!!!???? WHY GOD, WHY!!??!?!? I HATE YOU!

"Can I ask you something?"

So I took off my headphones, backpedaled a little, paused my MP3 player and waited for ~The Question~ .

"I saw you jogging by and…" (at which point I'm thinking 'DAMN IT! I'VE BEEN SPOTTED! NOW I HAVE TO FIND A NEW JOGGING ROUTE!) "you were doing this kind of thing…." She started pulling at herself and shaking her hands out. "If you don't mind my asking… what… is that? Is that some kind of..." She sounded really timid, confused, and nervous, as if I might be dangerous. I think her dogs were picking up on it because both of them were staring at me like 'go ahead, bitch, make a move, I dare you.' I'm guessing the word she left out was "disorder" but who knows. The word could have been "tick" "condition" or "dance routine" for all I know.

I snort-giggled and said; "oh, no. I'm just trying to get rid of the invisible spider webs." It took me about three seconds of awkward silence to realize how utterly insane that sounded.

"Invisible… spider webs?"

"I mean.. uh… well, heh-heh…. (aaaaawwwwkkkwwwaaarrrdddd) I guess they're not really ~invisible~ per se but they're really hard to see. They float around through the air, especially at night, and especially after it rains. Haven't you ever felt like… a little string come across your face or get stuck on your arm?"

She stood there for a moment *staring* at me like I just shat on everything she held dear. "I thought that was just hair?" She laughed nervously and started wiping at her hair.

I shook my head. "Nope. Afraid not. It's spiders. That's how they get around. They float through the air on strands of web."

Her face went slack with shock as if I had just slapped her. "Are you sure it's.... that? I mean…" she started looking around like she expected a giant spider to leap out of the bushes at her. "Could it be something else? Like… plant…. Stuff... maybe?" She had this look on her face like 'please, dear god, let it be plant stuff.'

"Believe me, I wish it was. I'm not thrilled with the idea that there might be spiders crawling all over me."

WELP! That was apparently the wrong fucking thing to say. She heel-spun exactly 180 degrees as rocket boosters emerged from her ass, fired up, and propelled her into the night sky. NOPE, NOPE, AND AWAY!

'Yaye! She's gone!' I thought. 'Now I can get back to my !@#$%^&*ING JOG!' I put my headphones on and ran along, not really thinking much about what had just happened aside from a brief internal argument over which I hate more; neighbors or spiders. My route is basically a big L that I run back and forth on. One part of the L brings me close to the backs of some houses. Sometimes I can see people inside but they aren't close enough to aggravate my avoidance complex, not unless they're swimming in their pools with all their lanai lights on, which, thankfully, they don't do all that often.

As I was jogging past that section a few minutes later, I heard; "SPIDERS, DAVID! FLOATING SPIDERS!" Mind you, I heard this *over the DUBSTEP I was listening to.* I stood there for a moment, waiting for more but that was it. I think I just ruined this poor woman's entire existence. Whoops? Sorry. On the upside, I know at least one neighbor who won't be invading my jogging route anymore. :P

Edit: They moved a few weeks later. Lol. My bad.

Nice to know that even several years after having played a Silent Hill game, I can still awaken at 5:30 in the morning from a horrific movie-vivid nightmare in which, from the beginning, when I obliviously entered my dorm room, till the end, where after what felt like an eternity of running through dark hallways, climbing dark stairs, throwing myself into dark elevator shafts and pipeways filled with scuttling monstrosities, after glimpsing that distinct silhouette coming around so many corners, I succumb to a sense of great futility and anguish as I realize that there is no escaping the Red Pyramid except in death. Thereafter, I throw myself from the top story of a building, ending my misery on a rainy New York sidewalk.

He had finally cornered me in a stairwell. The door behind me was locked and there was no way past him. He came up the stairs with excruciating, deliberate slowness to draw out my tortured anticipation for as long as possible. When he finally came to greet me, he drew up his Great Knife, longer than I am tall, probably weighing about as much, and plunged it through the door behind me. He hesitated there and I heard unfathomable sounds from under his rusted hood- a lament of hell echoing through the void. He pulled his sword out slowly, metal screeching against metal like the shriek of some hellion beast.

'HAHA!' you bastard, I thought, reaching through the enormous gash and unlocking the door. 'You cannot have me.' I ran, almost gleefully, towards the edge of the roof and without hesitation flung myself off. Anguish and miserable futility became delight. I won. Wind roared in my ears as I plummeted to my demise, happy that I had not met the fate so many others had at the end of his sword. I suppose I was not really happy but satisfied. It was over- my struggling, the running, the fear, the dark- it was all over. Never again would I see that silhouette looming around the corner. Never again would I turn only to run right into one of his gibbering, crazed attendants. Never again would I know the fear of hearing the screech of his Great Knife dragging across the floor. Finally, I could rest.

As my fall neared its end and the curtains of my life drew to a close, the citygoers watched me plummet, their faces frozen in horror. None of them seemed to notice the tall, hooded, sword-bearer in their midst.



So yeah. I'm never going to sleep again. I don't know why my brain does this shit to me. I mean... really. What the hell?

Eh, why not. I haven't done one of these in a long ass while. :) Make some assumptions about me and I will tell you if they are true, false, or necessitate launching you into outer space via cannon. Ganked from  arphalia

I am going to be gone for a week but in the meantime, here are a few out of context snippets from my life that may or may not cause life-threatening aneurysms entertain you while I'm gone. Keep in mind that each of these arose from perfectly normal conversation. I am going to do x, y, and z while attempting to 3 on Tuesdays at cheesegrater with a little bit of getting' jiggy wid it. Lawn chair. Giggidy-giggidy. *Eyebrow-waggle.*

Out of context

1.) I don't care if you're naked, my turkey is burning!

2.) Why is your ass in my salad?

3.) This weird thing popped up so I started playing with it and white stuff came out.

4.) I have never in my life been so grateful to not be a wombat.

5.) Stop licking my pants!

6.) This all could have been avoided if Sir William had been here to pee on us.

7.) It'll be just like you went to the salon and got a hooficure.

8.) Are you trying to put your parabola in my sine wave?

9.) The Flame-crabs are coming! HIDE YOUR JUNK!

10.) Unless it is a vibrating banana, I am not interested.

11.) Leopard rejection syndrome.

12.) Only to find myself dancing around in a pile of dead armadillo.

13.) Unfortunately, things being such as they are, I fear that our horns shall never be catered to.

14.) Pardon me for just a moment, I need to put my boobs away.

15.) WHY DO I HAVE CLOTHES ON!?

16.) Assless fire-chaps.

17.) Shit, there is a mammoth fuck-party coming after me. They're mad because I stole their cheese.

18.) No. You CANNOT use your vagina like a cannon!

19.) No one should be allowed to shave bears, ever.

20.) I've got my abortion sneakers on.

21.) I AM ANGRY!..... LET ME GIVE YOU A BLOW JOB.

22.) Get your finger out of my knee-ass.

23.) I will never eat eel again, not after that dream about Voldemort's cock.

24.) Mmmm! Dynamite! That sounds delicious.

25.) And she got me right in the ass with a surprise curling-iron!

26.) You can learn a lot about things by lighting them on fire.

27.) Yeah but you don't usually eat a propane tank.

28.) I'm busy trying to fend off the oyster-seeking missile over here.

29.) You wouldn't be the first person to throw a hunk of meat at my head.

30.) Get your dick out of my ear, I can't see the TV.

31.) Apparently I've found a dolphin.

32.) My fingerprints are made of asshole.

33.) Snow-Gug and the Seven Ghasts, hi-ho, hi-ho, it's off to kill we go!

34.) Get your chicken out of my boobs!

35.) Hammer time! *Starts hopscotching flamboyantly around all the alligators.*

36.) I'll have you know that I am an excellent triangle!

37.) The only real problem with that is the potential for getting hot cooking grease all over your tits.

38.) How exactly did you glue your nose to your own foot?

39.) You want the other pie? My butt begs to differ!

40.) That was far less satisfying than I expected lizard sex to be.

41.) Bobbie........How did your hair get in my socks? I'm in China!

42.) No noisy butt pecans?

43.) Are you seriously using my boobs as feet-warmers?

44.) Greetings, Earthlings! We come in piece. Take us to your vagina!

45.) He stops every thirty feet to do a voodoo ritual in his pants.

46.) I become a turtle and your ass disappears.

47.) Is he sky humping her?

48.) Try giraffe malfunction. We'll see how that sounds.

49.) The right boob doesn't know what the left boob is doing.

50.) First you kick my face in, then you steal my transplant? Evil bitch.

51.) I upside down woman's butt you. :)

52.) Well nothing could stop him anyway. Have you seen the guy? He could part your ass cheeks like the Red Sea.

53.) No, that's my foot. I left my dick at home.

54.) I will lock my ass down like Fort Knox and post the Balrog at the front gates. YOU SHALL NOT PASS!

55.) May I utilize your butt?

56.) The juicer shot his payload down some asshole's grenade launcher.

57.) You have the most extraordinary butt muscles I have ever felt!

58.) Beaver-muff the Lobster, everyone's favorite foghorn is back in town?

59.) *Grabs my left boob.* Touché!

60.) Damn shame about that proboscis monkey. But hey, at least we can all say he went down with a stunningly graceful pirouette.

Have you ever had one of those moments where you're pretty well sure that at no other point in history has such a combination of words been uttered?

"I don't care if you're naked, my turkey is burning."

Anyway, happy Thanksgiving everyone. :3

I just dropped 13K on a down payment for a condo. I now own a condo! Yay! Yaying! Much yay! YYYAAAEEEE!!!

........

...............

.......wait for it.................

........................

.....................you know it's coming.

What? What's coming? You mean you didn't hear the resounding BUT in there? Oh you silly, silly, naive darlings. *pinches your cheeks* There is always a but! Always. Nothing in life ever comes without at least one but!

Well here's the but and it's a pretty big one:

They won't let my girlfriend in because we're not related by blood/our engagement is not officially documented (we don't constitute a single family). And on top of that, this is Florida so I don't even know if it would make a difference if we DID document it. We can't rent the condo out because apparently that's not allowed under the circumstances, or so they say - they may be lying about that. [Edit: They've changed their story from "you can't rent" to "you can only rent seasons, here, enjoy jumping through all these ridiculous hoops."]

So basically I now have a condo that I can't pay for on my own, I'm nearly broke, my mother is nearly broke, the hundreds my girlfriend spent on buying shit for the condo is down the tubes, the thousands I've spent is down the tubes....... I should have known better. Nothing in my life has ever gone off without a hitch. I don't know what batshit-crazy-drunken stupor drove me to think I'd suddenly start having good luck now after 28 years.

At this point I'm ready to just default on my student loans, let the condo go into foreclosure, and move out into the middle of nowhere and be a fucking hermit in like.... the Colorado mountains or something.

I just want to work, have a place to life, and have 15 minutes occasionally to read, watch a TV show, or play a videogame. That's all I want out of life. That's it. I don't think that's asking too much.

Don't put pity on me; I hate pity. It annoys me. However if you have advice, such as how I can magically osmose 13K+ out of thin air or make a condo association stop being a bunch of morons or make Florida stop being an idiot, by all means, advise away.

My friend Spazfox says he puts peanut butter in his tunafish sandwiches. O_____O I think he's just fucking with me. Peanut butter on tunafish...... I don't even... HOW. *flails, falls down a flight of stairs, smashes through the door, barrels down the street, rolls up a hill, goes sailing into the air, and lands ass-first on the Lincoln Monument.*

Every night for like, the last decade, I've been walking around my neighborhood for exercise. Aside from a few meteorites I've never really seen anything particularly noteworthy in the sky. Here is what I saw tonight: (Just for reference, I live in Southwest Florida, Punta Gorda.)

Three orange lights traveled slowly north across the night sky. At first I thought they were planes flying in a line formation, one in front of the other. They were not evenly spaced; the last two were closer together, the front light being further ahead. As I watched them move towards me, it became clear they were not very far off. In fact, they couldn't have been more than a few hundred yards up in the sky. I've seen planes go by a zillion times on my walks and I know how far and fast they move in relation to the stars and landmarks in view. These were not any kind of plane I've ever seen. The crafts were totally silent. I kept waiting to hear some kind of noise because I know sometimes the noise lags behind but there was no noise. They were absolutely silent.

Here's where it gets REALLY weird. I looked over at the last light in the formation as they went by. When I looked back to the craft at the front, it was gone. Only two were left! I kept looking around but it was gone. The other two kept going in the same direction and as I watched, the second one began to dim. Then it vanished. Finally, the last one dimmed and vanished as well.

I'm not some kinda conspiracy nutter. In all likelihood they were some kind of military aircraft....... right? O__O; Also, for the record, other people have reported strange lights in the area. Hell, my GF told me she saw something funky in the sky and I blew her off. :P

Anyone with any military knowledge have any idea what the crap those things could have been? And DO NOT say swamp gas or I will flog you. >X}

This is a conglomeration of my thoughts on the TV series Supernatural starring Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki. May contain spoilers. Would love to hear your thoughts.

Does anyone else think this whole "Leviathans" storyline is absolutely the stupidest fucking thing in the universe? It is downright goddamn silly. It's as if the writers have just lost all respect for what the show once meant and once stood for. Not only is the Leviathans storyline silly, but the beings themselves are the very height of silly. Their heads erupt into like… Alien chest-bursters as imagined by Jim Henson. "Do you want to get the bib?" OMHFG how dumb is that shit? I just can't even take this show seriously anymore and it's depressing as hell because I once loved Supernatural.

The first three seasons are among my favorites in the annals of my fairly long TV-watching history. The fourth and fifth seasons started to lose me a little although I still really enjoyed them and still, at that point, considered Supernatural to be among my favorite shows. The sixth season is where I started crab-walking away. Why the shit would they randomly bring back the grandfather from the middle of nowhere….? It seems to me like they really just wanted Mitch Pilegi back on the show. Not that I blame them, Mitch is a great actor but that is NOT a good reason to drop such a ridiculous plot turd into the mix.

I wasn't buying the whole Eve thing either. For being the "All Mother," she was rather unimpressive and forgettable, basically just a chick in a nightie. That's the mother of all monsters? Really? Damn, I wouldn't even hit that it's so fuckin boring. *YAWN* Moving right along then.

On top of that you have these episodes that are just…. Ridiculous with a capital R - I mean scraping wood-ribbons off the barrel bottom-level ridiculous. The first few seasons (in my opinion) were fantastic. The production values were great, the storyline was riveting, the cinematography was artistic and clever, the direction was topnotch, the writing was fantastic….. I ferociously adored everything about that show. Hell, even the fluff episodes were good back then.

Now…. It's all fluff and not even good fluff. I'm sorry but…. THE BIB. GODS that is so dumb. "You're gonna get the bib!" Oh how far the mighty have fallen. The show went from "Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cake hole" to "you're gonna get the bib." Just….. unforgivable. That's even stupider than the Egyptian God putting people on trial in a barn in the middle of what was it, Nebraska? Of course he speaks perfect English too. Fuckin ridiculous. Oh and I forgot to mention, you can kill the Leviathans with Deus ex Machina…. Oh I mean Deus ex Stupida…. Whoops! Sorry, I mean common household cleaner. Really? I just.... I can't even muster up any good profanity for that level of stupid and considering this is ME we are talking about here, Queen BitchCunt the Fucknificent, Supreme Ruler of Cantankeronia, that's saying something.

I think they should end the show, as much as that pains me to say. Season 7 was a death rattle, an ugly, slow, wheezing one that has already gone on way too long. You can't come back from something so stupid as the most recent season. Supernatural is dying a slow, horrible death and it needs to be euthanized at this point. I'd love to see Jared and Jensen work together in something else though. They have a chemistry you simply cannot fake. Yet it must be said, not even that chemistry can carry a show like Supernatural when the writers have gone off the high-dive, face-first into the deep end of Crazyville, sad as it is for me to admit.

RIP Supernatural.

Can the show be salvaged? I don't think so. I really don't. Maybe if they took a massive turn back towards respecting their audience, the writing, the craft, and what the show once stood for…. Maybe…..

Here's some funneh vids in remembrance. Watch in hi def for maximum amusement. Some of these clips are so goddamned funny they made me cry.

Season 1 Gag Reel: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ciio.....eature=related

Season 2 Gag Reel: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fsY4wh4zD3A

Season 3 Gag Reel: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ULNYiDomzPE

Season 4 Gag Reel: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T--dq1afEsY

Season 5 Gag Reel: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Asi0OX7_aqk

Season 6 Gag Reel: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cxv-493r0qg

Funny things that happen on set: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZBsL.....tailpage#t=18s

Shows their wives make them watch: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QT6t.....eature=related

Jared is a total klepto: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IySX.....eature=related

Pffftttt….. That's all I have to say about this shit: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6p4wvYF_OR4

This cracks me up hardcore: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E1fN.....eature=related

Jared is such an arse: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4WZd.....eature=related

LOL: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MpSN.....eature=related

PS: I always like to head off certain arguments at the pass so let me just say right now that I don't want to hear any bitching in the line of "well if you hate it so much, why are you still watching it." It's simple: I have a uterus, Supernatural has Jensen Ackles. THE END. - Obviously I'm being facetious….. mostly. :P In all honesty, I'm hoping that the show will turn around. I'm hoping they will lynch whatever morons thought this Leviathans plot was a good idea, get serious again, and fix the shit they dun fucked up because I really did deeply adore that show and I'm not entirely sure I want to see it die. But after all that having been said….. where can the show go from here?

http://baconsalt.3dcartstores.com/b.....lube_p_60.html

Manifestbaconization: The process of baconizing everything in human existence.

BACON. That is all.

HATE HATE HATE HATE. Surprise trip to doctor's office. Serious infection in a cut on my finger. Here's how it went. Very fun.

Step 1: Sit in waiting room for 2 hours with nothing to do and no one to talk to.... which is kinda my own damned fault. >XC Ahhh, self-defeat, the best kind. *melodramatic pose with back of hand on forehead*

Step 2: Get asked a million and a half invasive questions that have nothing to do with anything. Does it MATTER if I am a Sagittarius? Why are you measuring my feet? NO I do NOT eat caviar on Wednesdays. I will most CERTAINLY NOT give you a stool sample! Yes I floss, why is that pertinent? Am I allergic to what? Succinocholine? What's tha.... *DART* O___O; *swoooooo..... faint*

Step 3: Some bitches DO NOT know how to take blood pressure. >8{ JEESUS LADY, THAT IS MY ARM, I AM NOT A FUCKIN SQUEAKY TOY. Now look here, I'm sorry, girlfriend, my blood pressure is NOT 150/95, it is ALWAYS 110/69 or something like that - you dun fucked up, now GET OUT OF MY TITS. ........ GIMME THAT FUCKIN THING, YOU DUMBASS, JEESUS, I'LL DO IT MYSELF. *SMACK* (I didn't actually smack her but boy did I ever so very much want to.)

Step 4: Doctor has food in her office, I am pretty sure that's some kind of health code violation. She sat there omnoming away and asking me more questions. While going out of her way to look as disinterested as possible.

Step 5: Suddenly, she pounces across the office and starts interrogating me like something out of CSI. "How did you get that cut!? What implement was used. How old is it. Have you been picking at it? I KNOW YOU HAVE. GUILTY. YOU'RRRREEEEE GULTY!!! YOU ARE GOING TO JAIL FOREVER YOU CRETINOUS, CRAVEN, CUT-PICKING PSYCHOPATH!!!"

Step 6: SCRAPE SCRAPE SCRAPE SCRAPE SCRAPE SCRAPE SCRAPE SCRAPE SCRAPE...... here, have some antibiotics, don't pick at it, bye, GTFO. *boot*

I'll live. I just have to eat antibiotics for the rest of my life and resist the exceptionally strong urge I have to pick at it. Muuussttt nnnootttt pppiicckkkk, must.... not... must.... MUST PICK OMG PICK PICK PICK I CANNOT STOP MYSELF!!! I AM A HORRIBLE PICKING, PICKY-PICKER. *pickpickpickpickpickpickpickpickpickpickpickpickpickpickpickpick*

So yeah, that was the latter half of my day. Fuckin stellar week I'm having.

Day one: Almost in nasty, nearly fatal car crash.
Day two: Almost electrocuted by demon microwave.
Day three: Nasty, horrendous terrible.... event. Do not want to talk about that one. >.>
Day four: ZIP. Well that's going to leave a hell of an interesting scar.
Day five: http://www.furaffinity.net/journal/2771397/ THIS.
Day six: *starts necrosing*

If there's something out there trying to kill me, PLEASE STOP, YOU FUCKING ......WWWWIIIINNNNN. I SUBMIT. I YIELD. I NYAN-NYAN-NYAN-NYAN-NYAN. Yes. I may finally have flipped my fucking lid, people. Enjoy your new and improved Silverone, now with more crazy!!!! (And less deadly, finger-devouring infection.) YYYEEEEEEEE. *runs off naked*

1.) It's national "Spill salad all over yourself" day. You should do it. It's fun. Especially when you trail a big river of salad dressing all down the front of you. Extra points if you end up with a crouton on top of your head but you're not sure how it got there.

2.) If you walk into an Ace Hardware store and ask for hydrochloric acid, cutting implements, face masks, a grill-lighter, and an elongate metal skewer, causing the employee behind the counter to stare at you with a look of dawning horror as if you just admitted to eating kittens and wiping your ass with puppies, just say "I'm an artist." He'll calm right down and happily lead you to everything you need. O___O

3.) A wild CANKERSORE appears!
CANKERSORE uses ANNOY.... It's super-effective.
BOBBIE uses ANBESOL.... It's not very effective.
CANKERSORE uses GET BIGGER.... It's super-effective.
BOBBIE uses BLOW FACE OFF WITH DYNAMITE.... It's super-effective.

4.) If your dogs respond to something you cooked in the same way they'd respond to sniffing a bottle of nailpolish remover, you dun fucked up.

4.5) ..........And yet I'm sitting here eating it anyway. If I die, at this point, I think it can be reasonably listed as a suicide. Just ship the Darwin Award straight to my grave.

5.) Do not accidentally put hand-soap in your dishwasher unless you want to see what a solid, massive, kitchen-devouring brick of impending soapfoam looks like.

6.) Do not accidentally grab the bottle of hair gel which looks remarkably like your toothpaste and.......... yeah.

7.) Bacon.

8.) Pants are evil. They must be punished.

Upside-down and backwards 6.) The number "9" is a lie. It's really just an upside-down and backwards 6. Now you know. Spread the word.

10.) Fuck. I can't remember what I was going to write here. I think I was rearranging.... Why did I do that? BALLS.

11.) If you attempt to brush your hair and the hairbrush somehow ends up on the other side of the room, and you're standing there in front of the mirror with a stupidly confused look on your face, just..... go back to bed. Doesn't matter if it is 2:30 in the afternoon, go back to bed.

12.) After being visited by the Pants Mafia, I am now thoroughly convinced that pants are actually very nice people and simply misunderstood. I like pants. >.>; Yes. pants are..... Nice. They can hear me, I know they can. They are watching. Always watching me. RUN!!! THE PANTS ARE COMING!!! PANTS, THE PANTSSSS! PANTS EVERYWHERE!!!!

13.) ALWAYS have an escape plan.... especially if you put a wiggly rubber snake in your mother's underwear drawer and she is terrified of snakes.

14.) There is never any way to know for sure whether or not your mother is armed with a surprise-curling iron. Therefore, come prepared with smite-resistant armor next time.

15.) Being stabbed in the ass with a curling iron actually kinda hurts.

16.) On that note, if you accidentally stab yourself in the nose with your fork, you have really bad aim.

17.) People in Florida do not know the difference between driving and bumper cars.

18.) When opening a fresh jar of Kimchi, be careful lest ye get hosed in the face by a torrent of foul-smelling, corrosive kimchi acid.

19.) Do not claw your entire keyboard to smithereens in order to retrieve one, single, tiny crumb.

20.) Accidentally spilling Diet Dr. Pepper Cherry all over yourself keeps away evil spirits and should be regarded as a sign of great fortune. Furthermore, if you keep telling yourself that, maybe you will finally stop spilling shit all over yourself like a big dumbass.

So that was my day thus far. How are you all doing this FINE, MERRY !@#$%^&* day!? Is there somewhere I can apply to be professionally run over by a Mack Truck? XD