Alty's Hurtling Through Meat-Space Thread

[Cardinal Pizza Deliverance.]

I also hate it when people cannot open up unless they are marinated in alcohol.

You're a good guy in a shit situation and I hope it works out for you. I admire your fortitude, if it were someone else in this situation, I'm pretty sure Alaska would be a crater by now.

Being a good person only works if you are in a good society.

Or if you need plausible deniability.

[Salty]

For now I am going to focus on making money.

This involves making a resume, CV, cover letter for which to acquire employment as a massage person, looking into free marketing techniques, and broadening my scope of practice.

After dealing with LMTs in an authoritative manner I can safely say I know how to put together a better resume than I've done in the past. Reliability, capability, lack of stupid/flakey habits. If I happen upon a good job with a chiropractor that'll be super. I'll just have to weed through the greedy bastards and quacks.

I've actually been considering using Reiki and other sorts of practices, but I just can't fake it and I don't see the value in it personally. I struggle with this.

More than anything I don't want to be seen as a snake oil salesman by people with views similar to my own. I can see the sense in offering something people want anyway, and trying to give them a rational approach. But it does feel dirty because it's make-believe, even if it does help people. You can't sell it that honestly though, people want to believe it's real.

[Salty]

Whenever someone says to me, "You seem pretty nice to me." I always take a step back.

For one thing, I tend to apply the word "nice" to people who are harmlessly stupid. That says something right there, doesn't it? I don't want to shit on their super nice parade, I don't want to go the parade at all. Secondly, and more importantly, these people are just bombs waiting to explode. They will at one point realize the error of their assertion, this may be accompanied by a low-grade sense of horror.

OR

[A word of warning: we are now entering a TMI ZONE]

How He Recommended The Secret But Couldn't Keep It Up

Not the first time we hooked up. No, that was when I was nearing a nervous breakdown and my wife and I were not sharing a bedroom, which she felt gave her ample space to explore her Self. The first time happened when he was still living with his boyfriend of 9 years. They had just opened their relationship in that special way the immediately precludes a horrible and spiteful end. The first time he didn't have the god damned sense to keep the god damned dog in the god damned garage.

There is something extra special about being with a man who, once he is getting down to business, continuously shouts "SPARK! SPARKY!" *a few heaving breaths* "SPARKY!!" *pant pant thrust* "SPARK!" on an infinite loop that will never, ever, ever end.

When the brain damaged, 175lb, 1 year old dog is confused because the person in your bedroom is a stranger and won't stop FUCKING barking, you put him in the garage. Then again, when all this is happening to YOU, you put your pants back on and walk 7 miles in the snow. 

No, of course you don't. You smile, you try to be nice.

Then you never respond to that dudes text messages ever again.

Then again...

Look, I could lay out every mind-flaying detail of the encounters I have had with humans in the last six months or so. I probably will at some point, just so I can print it out, keep it with me at all times and shove it into the face of people who don't believe I am cursed and scream, "HERE, YOU BLEEDING ASSHOLE! IT'S ALL RIGHT FUCKING HERE!"

But today I will sum up and merely say I have been having a rough go of it. So when Sparky's pal sends me a message saying his super gross boyfriend has moved out of the city and I have nothing to do but stare at walls on sunday I suggest we go hiking, stuff, whatever.

Now, a couple of things that probably make me less than nice:
-I lose interest in people who have, uh, a very basic grasp of politics/the world as it is. Not that I have the best hold on it myself, nor do I want to talk about it all the time, but...you know.
-I don't get people who listen to Top 40's radio stations, it seems like some kind of dullness. Can't they hear it? The sounds that come out of those speakers creeps into my head more and more and I can't tune it out. Like the racist at the other end of the bar that can't figure out why black people say, "Sup", don't they have bigger words? Everything fades out of view, the bustle of the place quiets down, and all I can do is feel my blood pumping and hear the idiot words.

Ah good, now I am just rambling, and it all seems petty. And it probably indicates I am just not into the guy's lifestyle choices. That's fine. What with the lack of solid intellectual/musical/emotional/ connection I rally forth because, shit, he IS nice. And capable. And why the fuck not. Try to have a good time, shake that shit loose, man. And I do. He may also not have the looks, but that's OK. He may enjoy the book The Secret and not fully understand why I don't. Maybe without the dog this time...

I don't even have to ask when we get to his place. The dog is away, hallelujah.

And then....

I don't think it's too much to ask for any one person to feel like a hot piece of ass every now and again. Even when there's a Samoan church's live band is playing so loudly right next door that the bedroom window acts like an auditorium speaker, I feel that I could entice some...ah. You know this isn't about failed erections. It really isn't.* It's about there always being Some Damned Thing. I have never taken a statistics class, but somehow I suspect that these odds are fucked.

Ok, I have no larger point than that. I just had to get this out or I was going to start screaming at everyone forever. Hell, it's only 2 in the afternoon, I still might.


*It really isn't.**
**Ok, it probably is.

[Salty]

No, no, wait. I do have a point.

When you recommend The Secret you should be able to keep it up. That's all. Otherwise...just what, in the FUCK, is that book worth?

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

Alaska, man. Just remind yourself that it's not you, they really ARE all crazy.