271
Bring and Brag / I made a skirt!
« on: May 19, 2013, 05:13:05 pm »
I gotta iron it some more, and I made the waist a little tight so I'm gonna need to figure out a way to attach a button that can take it, but, yeah! Skirt!
News:
Bigotry is abound, apprently, within these boards. There is a level of supposed tolerance I will have no part of. Obviously, it seems to be well-embraced here. I have finally found something more fucked up than what I'm used to. Congrats. - Ruby
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272
Or Kill Me / Dystopia
« on: May 19, 2013, 01:57:26 am »
Because we grew up in someone else's walls, and our own walls, and the walls of our parents and grandparents and back across the centuries and the windows just keep getting smaller and there's no such thing as a sledgehammer strong enough to tear the fucker down, and there's nothing outside the walls anyway.
We can't breathe.
And we wonder if every generation feels this fucked or if it's only special generations, special times, that get cornered so fucking hard that even staying in the lines becomes an impossible task because they drew the lines smaller than your body and how the hell are you supposed to fit in there?
We crave dystopian stories because they're familiar. We live and breathe for the moment of defeat, the moment he loves big brother, the moment he swings in the breeze, the moment she goes D-con. There are no good paths open to us, only bad paths and corrupt ones. The walls are ten miles high and made of granite. It's just this, forever and ever, and so many people seem blind to it that it's comforting to know at least one other person in the history of the human race has seen what we see and it won't make things get any better but at least you're not crazy.
Not uniquely crazy, anyhow.
But in the end if even our insanity isn't unique what on earth can we bring to the table? What possible use is there for 7 billion brains, most of them tied up in the same stories, barely capable of keeping up with the demands of daily function? What good is progress if we're killing ourselves in the process.
I wonder sometimes if I hadn't squandered so much of my mental energy on trying to be sane what I could have accomplished. Or maybe if I had fixed the problem sooner. I talk about myself in the past tense and remember practicing talking about her in the past tense, trying it on like an unwanted wedding gown - big and uncomfortable. When was the last time one person could do anything? She died because we think it's okay for the poor to get sick and the rich to get better, because she was a stubborn ass, because they didn't make her get help sooner.
For no damn reason.
It all happens for no damn reason, no matter how many stories we write about it and how hard we try to spin it, in the end it's just a couple people sitting around and trying to weave a fairytale of relevance around a life that probably didn't have much impact, but saying that's sacrilege. If only she'd been fighting an evil empire, taken down while rescuing others from a natural disaster, protecting the innocent from a mad man, if only there was a story that was worth it, but there never is. We just get ground down under the same machine and don't do enough to make it better and then we're gone and our kids are in the same boat. Over, and over, and over. And the guys who say "give me liberty" bleed, and their children live on, and they shoot Shays men and centuries later still no one is free.
So kill me.
We can't breathe.
And we wonder if every generation feels this fucked or if it's only special generations, special times, that get cornered so fucking hard that even staying in the lines becomes an impossible task because they drew the lines smaller than your body and how the hell are you supposed to fit in there?
We crave dystopian stories because they're familiar. We live and breathe for the moment of defeat, the moment he loves big brother, the moment he swings in the breeze, the moment she goes D-con. There are no good paths open to us, only bad paths and corrupt ones. The walls are ten miles high and made of granite. It's just this, forever and ever, and so many people seem blind to it that it's comforting to know at least one other person in the history of the human race has seen what we see and it won't make things get any better but at least you're not crazy.
Not uniquely crazy, anyhow.
But in the end if even our insanity isn't unique what on earth can we bring to the table? What possible use is there for 7 billion brains, most of them tied up in the same stories, barely capable of keeping up with the demands of daily function? What good is progress if we're killing ourselves in the process.
I wonder sometimes if I hadn't squandered so much of my mental energy on trying to be sane what I could have accomplished. Or maybe if I had fixed the problem sooner. I talk about myself in the past tense and remember practicing talking about her in the past tense, trying it on like an unwanted wedding gown - big and uncomfortable. When was the last time one person could do anything? She died because we think it's okay for the poor to get sick and the rich to get better, because she was a stubborn ass, because they didn't make her get help sooner.
For no damn reason.
It all happens for no damn reason, no matter how many stories we write about it and how hard we try to spin it, in the end it's just a couple people sitting around and trying to weave a fairytale of relevance around a life that probably didn't have much impact, but saying that's sacrilege. If only she'd been fighting an evil empire, taken down while rescuing others from a natural disaster, protecting the innocent from a mad man, if only there was a story that was worth it, but there never is. We just get ground down under the same machine and don't do enough to make it better and then we're gone and our kids are in the same boat. Over, and over, and over. And the guys who say "give me liberty" bleed, and their children live on, and they shoot Shays men and centuries later still no one is free.
So kill me.
273
Or Kill Me / Inelegant Rambling
« on: May 09, 2013, 05:31:50 pm »
Losing a loved one when you have a history of depression is like trying to play catch with a chainsaw.
With an eyepatch.
You know you're not going to catch that shit right, that's not even a fucking question. You can see the magnitude of the problem that's about to hit you, and there's ducking out of the way because then you're not playing catch at all, are you, you terrible person? And the other guy will probably chase after you with the chainsaw anyway because he'd have to be some flavor of sick bastard to be forcing you to play eyepatch-chainsaw-catch in the first place and no, this metaphor doesn't make a lot of sense. You can see it coming, you can recognize "this is going to suck" but you have no idea when it's going to happen.
You just sit there in the hospital room and something objectively horrifying happens, and you go "man, that's going to suck later" and you get on with this because it's not about you right now it's about the person dying in the bed. And then they're gone, and everyone goes "I'm so sorry" and "is there anything I can do to help?" and you put them on little tasks for this and that or bigger things that you can't handle but they can and everyone thinks "HOORAY I'M HELPING" and you're still sitting there and you can see the chainsaw's already in the air but you have no depth perception and you don't know when it's going to hit you.
And then it does.
But by then all the people have gone away and the ones who are still around have moved on to worrying about their own things which are totally legit things and you can't bother them because well they helped months ago and we're doing something else now didn't you get the memo and you're just standing there with a stump of an arm and you don't know how to make it better and there's still three more chainsaws in the air.
With an eyepatch.
You know you're not going to catch that shit right, that's not even a fucking question. You can see the magnitude of the problem that's about to hit you, and there's ducking out of the way because then you're not playing catch at all, are you, you terrible person? And the other guy will probably chase after you with the chainsaw anyway because he'd have to be some flavor of sick bastard to be forcing you to play eyepatch-chainsaw-catch in the first place and no, this metaphor doesn't make a lot of sense. You can see it coming, you can recognize "this is going to suck" but you have no idea when it's going to happen.
You just sit there in the hospital room and something objectively horrifying happens, and you go "man, that's going to suck later" and you get on with this because it's not about you right now it's about the person dying in the bed. And then they're gone, and everyone goes "I'm so sorry" and "is there anything I can do to help?" and you put them on little tasks for this and that or bigger things that you can't handle but they can and everyone thinks "HOORAY I'M HELPING" and you're still sitting there and you can see the chainsaw's already in the air but you have no depth perception and you don't know when it's going to hit you.
And then it does.
But by then all the people have gone away and the ones who are still around have moved on to worrying about their own things which are totally legit things and you can't bother them because well they helped months ago and we're doing something else now didn't you get the memo and you're just standing there with a stump of an arm and you don't know how to make it better and there's still three more chainsaws in the air.
274
Apple Talk / ACTUAL REALLY FOR REALS MEXICO ELECTION THREAD
« on: May 07, 2013, 10:05:35 pm »
You get one vote. You can change votes up until polls close on Sunday. Winner announced on Monday.
275
Apple Talk / NORTHEAST SPAGS POTLUCK
« on: May 02, 2013, 05:12:59 pm »
This needs to happen. Post availability here.
276
Discordian Recipes / QG's Waffle Recipe Thread
« on: May 01, 2013, 01:43:52 pm »
Neutral Waffle Base
> 2 cups flour
> 2 eggs
> 1 3/4 cup milk
> 1/2 cup vegetable oil
> 4 teaspoons baking powder
This waffle is ready for you to add any flavor or combination of flavors to it. You can also just add a little sugar and have normal people waffles.
> 2 cups flour
> 2 eggs
> 1 3/4 cup milk
> 1/2 cup vegetable oil
> 4 teaspoons baking powder
This waffle is ready for you to add any flavor or combination of flavors to it. You can also just add a little sugar and have normal people waffles.
277
Discordian Recipes / ITT: You give me terrible ideas for waffles
« on: April 30, 2013, 04:14:29 am »
Tomorrow waffle night will be upon me again. Previous waffle nights have featured such fare as:
* Waffled chicken patties (cooked chicken + breadcrumbs + egg)
* Waffled black bean burgers (black bean burger recipe, waffled)
* Waffled hash browns
* Womlettes
* Waffled burgers (not interested in doing that again, too messy)
* Waffle biscuits
* Radish waffle (smells terrible cooking)
* Avocado and sundried tomato waffle
So, what horrors should I unleash this time? No fish, no shellfish, and nothing crazy expensive, please.
* Waffled chicken patties (cooked chicken + breadcrumbs + egg)
* Waffled black bean burgers (black bean burger recipe, waffled)
* Waffled hash browns
* Womlettes
* Waffled burgers (not interested in doing that again, too messy)
* Waffle biscuits
* Radish waffle (smells terrible cooking)
* Avocado and sundried tomato waffle
So, what horrors should I unleash this time? No fish, no shellfish, and nothing crazy expensive, please.
278
Apple Talk / ITT: YELL AT GOGIRA UNTIL SHE FINISHES HER WORK
« on: April 29, 2013, 05:20:54 pm »
Seriously, guys, I fkn cannot concentrate on logo design today. I need to make three logos for a barbershop in an hour and a half. Commence the yelling.
279
Apple Talk / ATTN: TGRR
« on: April 25, 2013, 03:20:27 pm »
You missed this yesterday:
We have to make horrible monster babbies together. For SCIENCE. For MEXICO.
We have to make horrible monster babbies together. For SCIENCE. For MEXICO.
280
Apple Talk / I need a hug
« on: April 20, 2013, 04:38:14 pm »
I need a hug because some people died in a place I hang out and a lot more people got hurt. It was unexpected and frightening.
I need a hug because the media went FULL ON APESHIT and wouldn't shut up about something that ultimately is Tuesday in Baghdad.
I need a hug because I had to extract my grieving father from the news coverage so he could go back downstairs and submit most of his email correspondence for the last two years for discovery in the law suit the company he founded has levied against him.
I need a hug because my sister is useless and I'm stuck with her.
I need a hug because my husband is far away.
I need a hug because I spent all week cleaning out my mother's craft supplies in the attic, and kept having to fight the thought "leave that alone, she's going to come back to that" because she's fucking not.
I need a hug because we had to split up her jewelry and all I could think about was how she wouldn't want me to have any of the nice things and that she'd rather they go to my sister.
I need a hug because baking is expensive and inefficient therapy.
I need a hug because assholes live in my town and I don't know how to make them stop.
I need a hug because my facebook feed is full of FUCK YEAH about something that really everyone should be sad about. It's sad that two kids got fucked up enough to want to do that shit. It's sad that one of them had to be killed and the other seriously wounded before he was captured. It's sad that we had to shut down a city to make sure those two particular rabid dogs were removed from society.
It's sad my mom's gone and my dad's drifting and my sister's unable to make the leap to adulthood.
I need a hug.
I need a hug because the media went FULL ON APESHIT and wouldn't shut up about something that ultimately is Tuesday in Baghdad.
I need a hug because I had to extract my grieving father from the news coverage so he could go back downstairs and submit most of his email correspondence for the last two years for discovery in the law suit the company he founded has levied against him.
I need a hug because my sister is useless and I'm stuck with her.
I need a hug because my husband is far away.
I need a hug because I spent all week cleaning out my mother's craft supplies in the attic, and kept having to fight the thought "leave that alone, she's going to come back to that" because she's fucking not.
I need a hug because we had to split up her jewelry and all I could think about was how she wouldn't want me to have any of the nice things and that she'd rather they go to my sister.
I need a hug because baking is expensive and inefficient therapy.
I need a hug because assholes live in my town and I don't know how to make them stop.
I need a hug because my facebook feed is full of FUCK YEAH about something that really everyone should be sad about. It's sad that two kids got fucked up enough to want to do that shit. It's sad that one of them had to be killed and the other seriously wounded before he was captured. It's sad that we had to shut down a city to make sure those two particular rabid dogs were removed from society.
It's sad my mom's gone and my dad's drifting and my sister's unable to make the leap to adulthood.
I need a hug.
281
Apple Talk / The Frost Giants
« on: April 17, 2013, 07:24:00 pm »
Some days they tell me the Desert is coming and it will eat us all but I know better. Oh, the Desert is a strong thing, stronger than my poor meatsac brain can hope to comprehend and that's a fact, but it's not me the Desert is going to be fighting. No, a long time ago we knew what we were up against, when the gears started turning and we clothed the world in the dusty tears of children. We knew we couldn't face it alone. No man can. So we broke every promise we ever made to ourselves and turned to the enemy of our ancestors, sitting proud upon his throne in the northern wastes. And he smiled, and he said "yes, children, I will take you in." We consummated the relationship in Halifax to the tune of 2.9 kilotons of TNT.
The Desert can't claim us, we already belong to another.
The Desert can't claim us, we already belong to another.
282
Discordian Recipes / QG's Cookie Recipe Thread
« on: April 17, 2013, 05:58:45 pm »
Zero Structural Integrity Peanut Butter Cookies
> 1 cup peanut butter (creamy or crunchy)
> 1 cup brown sugar
> 1 egg
Preheat oven to 350
Mash together everything in a bowl
Scoop out onto ungreased cookie sheets (optionally lined with parchment paper).
(Optional: mash flat with fork dipped in granulated sugar)
Cook for not very long
Take out of the oven when edges are firm but the centers are still mushtastic.
Leave on the cookie sheet until you're afraid they'll start burning
Transfer to wire rack
FAQ:
Can I add stuff to these cookies?
Yes! Remember that the more stuff you add the more they will crumble.
I made these cookies and they have structural integrity, what did I do wrong?
Those cookies are burnt.
Can I make these cookies with a non-zero value for structural integrity?
Yes. Add a couple tablespoons of flour. More flour = more structural integrity.
> 1 cup peanut butter (creamy or crunchy)
> 1 cup brown sugar
> 1 egg
Preheat oven to 350
Mash together everything in a bowl
Scoop out onto ungreased cookie sheets (optionally lined with parchment paper).
(Optional: mash flat with fork dipped in granulated sugar)
Cook for not very long
Take out of the oven when edges are firm but the centers are still mushtastic.
Leave on the cookie sheet until you're afraid they'll start burning
Transfer to wire rack
FAQ:
Can I add stuff to these cookies?
Yes! Remember that the more stuff you add the more they will crumble.
I made these cookies and they have structural integrity, what did I do wrong?
Those cookies are burnt.
Can I make these cookies with a non-zero value for structural integrity?
Yes. Add a couple tablespoons of flour. More flour = more structural integrity.
283
Apple Talk / Drug Thread Cake Poll
« on: April 06, 2013, 12:24:15 am »
So, since that thread started up again, what do folks want shipped out in celebration once we hit page 75? Anyone who's interested should pipe in with allergy information and PM a shipping address.
QG is in no way responsible for any violence that occurs as a result of the receipt or consumption of baked goods
QG is in no way responsible for any violence that occurs as a result of the receipt or consumption of baked goods
284
Apple Talk / Word Salad
« on: March 30, 2013, 09:12:10 pm »
I have a book that I acquired for free at some ridiculous new age conference thing (me and a bunch of friends went to laugh at dumb people) that I'm planning on turning into word salad. It's full of delicious words like "Zoroastrianism" and biblical references, should be entertaining.
Has anyone done one of these before, and if so, any tips?
Has anyone done one of these before, and if so, any tips?
285
Or Kill Me / There's too much fuck in my head
« on: March 29, 2013, 04:11:33 am »
You have to help me. I'm sorry to impose, but there's just too much fuck in my head. I tried to get it out with a puppy, a chick, and a basket of bunnies, but the fuck just said that huge grin is big enough to eat those bunnies in one bite and it only looks like a smile because we're backwards monkeys that think baring teeth is a nice thing as long as the corners of your mouth are turned up and then I had to go away before it happened. I'm sorry. I don't want to infect you with the fuck.
They think it's in the water, but it's not. The fuck is a word and it's a word you don't know because they never taught us but we talk around it all the time, spinning huge narratives of garbage trying to get to the word and it's not just bad because grapes can go bad and grapes can't be fuck. The fuck gets caught in your throat and claws out a hole in your rib cage and makes you feel like you're going to vomit but nothing happens because that's how the fuck is. The fuck is nothing happening. The fuck is the itch you can't scratch, laughing at you. The fuck eats all the things you do and everyone you love and leaves them yellow deflated husks. The fuck nailed up all the fire exits.
The fuck got in and its claws are down in my muscles and its teeth are in my eye sockets and I can't get it out and it keeps getting bigger and I'm afraid my head will split like Zeus and out will pop a fully grown fuck and I don't know what it will do but it can't be anything good and I need to get this fuck out of me before it eats me like it eats everyone else and I knew this was going to happen, that's why I wanted to finish things when I was young and thought that the fuck was a thing you could fight or reason with and make it go away but that's not what the fuck is, the fuck is bigger than all the gods and demons and it likes it when we make imaginary friends to fight it because it distracts us while the fuck gets to dig its claws in deeper and it's already in me and I tried, I really tried to get rid of the fuck but here it is. And I shouldn't be talking to you because you might get the fuck too.
Of course, you probably already have.
They think it's in the water, but it's not. The fuck is a word and it's a word you don't know because they never taught us but we talk around it all the time, spinning huge narratives of garbage trying to get to the word and it's not just bad because grapes can go bad and grapes can't be fuck. The fuck gets caught in your throat and claws out a hole in your rib cage and makes you feel like you're going to vomit but nothing happens because that's how the fuck is. The fuck is nothing happening. The fuck is the itch you can't scratch, laughing at you. The fuck eats all the things you do and everyone you love and leaves them yellow deflated husks. The fuck nailed up all the fire exits.
The fuck got in and its claws are down in my muscles and its teeth are in my eye sockets and I can't get it out and it keeps getting bigger and I'm afraid my head will split like Zeus and out will pop a fully grown fuck and I don't know what it will do but it can't be anything good and I need to get this fuck out of me before it eats me like it eats everyone else and I knew this was going to happen, that's why I wanted to finish things when I was young and thought that the fuck was a thing you could fight or reason with and make it go away but that's not what the fuck is, the fuck is bigger than all the gods and demons and it likes it when we make imaginary friends to fight it because it distracts us while the fuck gets to dig its claws in deeper and it's already in me and I tried, I really tried to get rid of the fuck but here it is. And I shouldn't be talking to you because you might get the fuck too.
Of course, you probably already have.