A Slice of Nazi at 5 AM

It’s 5 in the morning and this got me all sorts of fired up:

Jeremiah True screencap

Jeremiah True ended up being disrespectful and kind of an ass, but his initial thoughts/ideas were objective and absolutely necessary to bring up in, I don’t know, the thought-challenging environment that college is supposed to be. Who says only women can be raped? Who says men don’t ever get forced into unwanted sex? Who says rape is OK? I sincerely hope that it’s just a case of the negative people speaking the loudest, because it’s this kind of ignorance that is fucking us over. That and folks who don’t believe in vaccinating their kids. Go live on a remote island for a few hundred years and grow a shell and become old and lovable or something. You’re giving me forehead wrinkles.

In fact, I turned you into a Menkampf post. Congratulations; you’re all Nazis!

My first menkampf post!

Fuck Nyx Assassin

As a 1,000 max health Witch Doctor, I abhor you with every ounce of my being. I despise the fact that you will stalk me across the map and reveal yourself while I am amongst my team just to burst me down and then promptly be killed afterward. I loathe the way you brag about all of your kills, when all of them come from kamikaziing yourself onto me.

I hate your early-game.

I hate your mid-game.

I hate that late-game, you are supposed to fall off, but all you need to do to stay relevant is upgrade your Dagon and continue to kill me without issue.

Fuck you.

I almost shat myself today.

I received an email from FedLoan Servicing today about how my grace period for my student loans was almost up. I am taking a break from college at the moment and will periodically get reminders about it. However, today it came with a little picture that had me clenching my cheeks:

dose of reality 2

Ten years to pay off one year of college. And roughly two-thirds of it is just for housing. That is fucking absurd. So now I’m stuck in-between two shitty options: Go back to college in an attempt to delay the loan, resulting in me having to pay even more afterward for an even longer period of time (40-50 years for 4-5 years of schooling), or don’t go back to school and work a dead-end job for ten years while I live in a shithole apartment with my mom and then be in my 30s without anything to show for it. All of this for… What? A year in college? An immensely stressful, unproductive year? Not to mention I owe the school an additional $900 for leaving the term early.

It’s just fucking depressing. Don’t bother with growing up, kids. It isn’t worth it right now.

Babies Don’t Care

I recently read a blog post by a genderqueer individual. I went into the essay with a large amount of skepticism (I mean, come on, the title was “Forced Femininity Saved My Life: One Genderqueer on Male Privilege“), but it ended up being pretty awesome. It was about the individual (born a girl) identifying heavily with men and taking on the male roles in society (both good and bad), but having an abusive, insecure, mentally ill, cheating father as their primary role model. They took on all the father’s traits, and believed that they had to overpower the women in the family, and be a huge douche bag like daddy. Once the person’s father left the family for another woman, and once the author hit puberty (thus being “forced into femininity,”) they came to realized the shitty, shitty human being they would have been (and how they would have probably been arrested and/or institutionalized for their behavior) if they had been born male, after all, and if their father had stuck around. The article becomes an important message about how disadvantaged men are in society, from how emotionless they are supposed to be to how they are charged/prosecuted for domestic abuse in comparison to women.

However, my skepticism was rewarded in the beginning. Title aside, the introduction nearly completely turned me off the post:

“One hot July day in New York City, 1990, I was born a child. I was pulled from my mother’s womb and I was examined. I was determined to have a vagina. It was declared on my certificate that my mother, woman, and my father, man, had given birth to a baby girl. That was the first experience of the life-determining effects of American society’s gender binary, swaddled in pink, not blue, certainly not purple or some other, more ambiguous color. Pink. Moments out of the womb and before even receiving my name, I was being wrapped in gender.”

Everything about it made me shudder. “Determined to have a vagina,” specifically, really got me going. It’s a completely unnecessary, self-absorbed way to say that the person was born with a whispering eye. While a technically correct statement, it doesn’t take a whole lot of research or observation to see if a babbs has a dick, a cunt, or both.

While I’m nitpicking, being born with a vagina wasn’t the “first experience of the life-determining effects of American society’s gender binary.” The person doesn’t remember being born; nobody does. The first experience sounds like it should have been hitting puberty, because their entire life up until that point, the person had been raised like a man by the father, and didn’t give a single care about gender.

As a whole, one of my largest gripes is that babies don’t give a shit about blankey color or what’s tucked between their legs. That isn’t what they’re screaming their heads off about. What upsets them is the fact that they were just evicted from their cozy cave, the lights are way too bright, and they don’t have the words to express how startled they are.

The color is for the parents to have something to go off of. Now, of course, “It’s the parents’ problem for forcing the child to conform to the sex they were born with!” But what in the hell are parents supposed to do? Read the child’s mind? Know instinctively from the get-go that their child, while born a female, identifies more with men? Purposefully give them an androgynous name so the child may determine in several YEARS which gender they are?

I don’t harbor a disgust for folks who don’t feel comfortable in their own bodies. I sympathize; that has to fucking suck. Living your life feeling like a stranger to your downstairs must be confusing, itchy, humiliating, and more. It takes a lot of self-reflection to figure out who you really are, and being genderqueer doesn’t help with that. But there is a point where the self-reflection becomes self-inflating, and the author of the article crosses that line, even if just by a hair in comparison to the folks on, say, Tumblr.

After the intro, the author suddenly gets it together. The article becomes a worthy read. They even go on to say, “I was born a normal, healthy girl.” Was that so bad?

Boogers

When I am sick and laying in bed, I dig out the longest strand of snot from my nose that I can find and roll it between my fingers until it forms a solid, tacky ball, and then flick it across the room. There is a graveyard on the walls in my old bedroom.

Does it serve a purpose? No. Does it help me get better? No. Is it something I am dedicated to? No. Will it change the world? No. In fact, it just does more bad than good. It’s another way for me to be a slob, and it turns into a cement when it dries, making it incredibly difficult to remove from the wall without taking part of the wall with it. It takes something already messy and unhygienic and amplifies it.

However, what it is is a mind-numbing source of entertainment. It doesn’t require any thought process. I can do it over and over again and not become tired of it, even as my eyes begin to glaze over. It gets attention, positive or negative.

A lot like a person thrusting their warty dick of a coveted opinion into the STD-laden vagina that is the Internet.

But now I’m being a hypocrite. I really just wanted to talk about my booger catapult.