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You're hired.  Report to Waste Reclamation.  Here's your scrub brush and kneepads.  You report to Ensign Miner.  She's a Horta, so try not to annoy her.

While I was down there I took the liberty of cleaning out that weird Fatberg. I think it was semi-sentient already: the thing did grumble a bit, there may have been some sort of a scream? No idea; but i got the job done.

So that's all cleared up now and should fuel the food replicators for at least a week


No Ensign Miner to be found anywhere though. Must have missed her.

What they NEED to do is Star Trek: Howl.

I wanna sign up.

My skills include fixing shit and hating engineers. And i do more or less anything for some good science.

And none of this "it's gonna take twelve hours to fix - i give you six - fine, i will do it in four" nonsense.
it will take twelve. maybe a little less if you shoot the engineer so i can work in peace.

The C in engineering stands for "Can Do".

But don't kill CNO.  He's the last engineer in existence that doesn't think he knows everything.

I leave the shooting of engineers to the officers; don't have time in my schedule to deal with that anyways.
If you want the engineer welded into a specific confined place to closely observe progress from the inside, just give me the proper specs and sign the papers that let me work in the EX area.

What they NEED to do is Star Trek: Howl.

I wanna sign up.

My skills include fixing shit and hating engineers. And i do more or less anything for some good science.

And none of this "it's gonna take twelve hours to fix - i give you six - fine, i will do it in four" nonsense.
it will take twelve. maybe a little less if you shoot the engineer so i can work in peace.

"this is all normal"

so my endo lost their license to treat "normies" that can't pay out of their own pockets. no new prescription for me till possibly september.
one fourty eight hour panic attack later i am able to convince my therapist that he is gonna fix me up on monday so i don't cash out. i had this problem before; and the results are not something i am willing to put up with again.

same time a root canal goes full tits up. good ol' friday affternoon one sided hamster face; going to the emergency dentist the next day to get my gum lanced cause the goddess knows i needed more pain in my life so i finally understand something i still dont understand; i never knew one can have a panic attack while already having a panic attack? i am really sorry for spitting blood and puss at these people who were just "on call" that weekend. maybe they learnt what i didn't? it's been all kinds of fucked.

relationships are crumbling left and right cause apparently i am only worth-while company when i can provide useful mad science stuff and help others sort out their shit: it's always too difficult to deal with "my erratic nonsense" --- yeah thanks.

it's the middle of the month. my landlord is soon gonna show up and ask why i didn't pay rent yet; i will hand in the cancellation papers for the contract when he does. it's the paper i have and can legally print myself. it's not gonna be much of a home soon anyways, when they turn off the power, and then the internet. it's time to leave this place.
anywhere but here, will be an improvement.


this is gonna be an amazing summer. maybe i'll even see autumn to celebrate my two year mark.
for the time being; i gotta focus on possible survival options - and maybe turn some of this shit into words.


this is all normal, eh?


i am tired.

this...

People can't survive below 80.

This is perfect. I don't want people around anyways.

The guy's name is Germ. Not only is he clearly not OK, there's almost nothing you can do to him that wouldn't be an improvement on being called "Germ".

Does he have an Aunty Bacterial?

Listen, you're new here. But you need to know.

You can't just say that kind of shit. We have the PTSD about it. A horrible little man held us hostage for literal years with puns like that. The connection switches on in our brains and it's all Apocalypse Now, Independence Day, Saw.

That sort of weaponry should be saved for when you want to short circuit the room by causing everyone to yell like they're on fire, manically disrobe, and run sprinting for the nearest freeway.

It's too damn hot for wearing robes. But i can maybe manically scrape the flesh off my bones?
That might scratch the itch i had all along...

It's 112 here and everyone died. 

Holy fuck.
I already begin to slowly die once it goes past 80 and there is no breeze.

At 90 i become a horribly moist demon and not even staying in the shade will do;
any water i drink bypasses the stomach and goes straight out of my pores while i chug down another bottle.

Beyond 100 --- frankly, i can't remember much of the last time i was exposed to that temperature. There were a lot of claw marks on my body though. There is something wrong about the outside temperature going above inner body temperature. WRONG i say.

This shit ought to be illegal.

Also, the dip tank was left full and we had to pour 6 gallons of bleach into it to get rid of the stink.  You could have cut the water with a knife.

Do you want another small pocket of dark magick? Cause this is how you *can* get another small pocket of dark magick.

see attached

the ring is an essential part of hobbit values and the hobbit way of life. how dare you??

ahah, found it!

https://jardinone.bigcartel.com/product/the-couch-embellished-giclee

alas, sold out

thank you- now i can edit all my linking of this with a name.

at first glance, i was thinking oil on canvas, with a bit of knife play after. like, this just screams texture!

The guy's name is Germ. Not only is he clearly not OK, there's almost nothing you can do to him that wouldn't be an improvement on being called "Germ".

Does he have an Aunty Bacterial?

Listen, you're new here. But you need to know.

You can't just say that kind of shit. We have the PTSD about it. A horrible little man held us hostage for literal years with puns like that. The connection switches on in our brains and it's all Apocalypse Now, Independence Day, Saw.

That sort of weaponry should be saved for when you want to short circuit the room by causing everyone to yell like they're on fire, manically disrobe, and run sprinting for the nearest freeway.

It's too damn hot for wearing robes. But i can maybe manically scrape the flesh off my bones?
That might scratch the itch i had all along...

Unrelated to this thread i found out about this by weird internet algo - so i already did two spots close to my place. No dead bodies yet.
Although, if i continue this, i am sure i will find volunteers. But the exploration itself was fun...

Didnt use their app yet, been given targets by copy pasting google links somewhat close to me into their bot [https://bot.randonauts.com/]

this is amazing. do you know the artist?

What particular sort of hellhole are you in?  Rural, urban, suburban, college town?

Gentrified urban-ish? It's one of the parts of this town where rents are affordable; the students who got daddy money live on the other side - and pay double what i pay, for a smaller space. Here, they dump everyone with low income, or "exotic" heritage - it's a melting pot of a variety of cultures, religions. In theory, this could be a place, the place - to create something great - in praxis - it is just another hellhole where humans do human stuff.

This is all normal, Dok.

Nope. They didn't. See, that kind of attitude, hyper-masculine dominant type, it's beyond fragile. IT is so set in its ways of dickishness that it CANT PHYSICALLY FEEL in any intimate way. So when push comes to shove and they "hit the sack" in any meaningful matter, the reward for their dominance is NOT BEING THERE to engage with a partner in any significant manner. They are the exiles.

What are you even on about?


The fragility of their concept is the root of their violence towards anyone outside the norms; and my mere existence does destroy their social convention - and thus, they seek the nearest target to reassert themselves within their group.

They did win, they did mark their territory - cause i shall fuck off after so many months of wanting to believe that i can just live my life here. Push came to shove more than once, and i am done risking more "occurences". It really fucks with the brainbox, and that thing is fucked up enough already.

Trees that don't bend, break. I am not gonna break over this shit. It's done enough damage.
This is not about "feelings" or their expression; this is about how the day2day operates... and what it means to never be safe among the hypermasc types. About always having to run numbers and probability vectors, just to make it home unbloodied.


They ignore the one core sentence at the very start of this thread.
And i feel, you did as well.