Cathartic Self-Indulgence

Warning: the following post is an example of me at my most narcissistic and banal. It’s content should not be seen as a reflection of the quality of this site as a whole. In fact I don’t expect anyone to read it so you should probably stop here and go on to something more productive like watching people change tires on youtube. I will tolerate no complaints regarding this post since as previously stated I recognise the bullshit and have learned to live with it. Thanks for reading this far and thanks again for not listening to me.

I stare at this site almost every day thinking about how empty and useless it is. It would be one thing if I were able to crank out an interesting post once a month or so but I don’t even come close to that kind of output. Then I look at some other blogs and see multiple posts a day of just random crap that I feel I could surely keep up with but to what end? I’m left with a feeling of paralysis when faced with a blank slate and can never figure out what the best use of my efforts is.

So I’m just going to post half-thoughts and derivative jokes that have been swimming around in my head these last couple of months. I would say “Enjoy” but we know that’s not happening.

The Snake Pit

I was watching that nature show narrated by the old guy from Jurassic Park and they showed a bunch of Garter snakes in mating season. Basically all the snakes start slithering around all snake-like in one giant pile right after the first light of spring. The purpose of the pile is to warm up each other but it’s also how they choose and then fuck their mate.

This got me thinking about how in the movies there’s always some pit of snakes that the hero has to avoid lest he be poisoned or strangled or whatever else snakes do to kill guys in funny hats. The pit of snakes looks exactly like the snake orgy I discussed previously which leads me to a really scary point that none of these movies ever made: not only is our dashing Aryan hero perilously close to being poisoned and eaten by snakes but he’s also close to being neck deep in a bunch of hedonistic sex-crazed reptiles who have no bones about throat fucking him while he’s being consumed.


I have nothing against them but I’ve never bought one or used one in any recipe. I don’t even mind the taste it’s just that they never enter my consciousness. In general I take a very hard stance or most foods but with radishes I’m indifferent.


Always felt bad about the teenagers who had really bad acne. I still get zits all the time but I’ve never had a full, beard-like breakout. I attribute my great skin to genetics and never washing my face. I still wash my face so rarely that whenever I do splash some water on it the whole thing feels completely foreign to me. A good layer of dirt protects you against almost anything, why fuck with nature?


Don’t care enough to write anymore. Your mother never liked you.


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