Faux fur lined hood salty tears Brazilian flip flops adidas expensive vintage depop nylon sweats cars lining up like ducks going in circles around the very roundly shaped capital

Listening to 8 year old songs that meant a lot now and surprisingly still actually somehow sort of mean a lot now. pitter pattering of tiny millimetric rain drops pittering on top of the plastic hood. Cold wet feet that are very wet and very cold getting wetter and colder by the second

A streak of gold putting up its last fight for the day before evening swallows it the 7 o’clock bells chime in the neighborhood the synths buzzy static buzzes through shitty Bluetooth headphones calling friends families and strangers and no one picks up. entirely alone to feel all thoughts. the golden ray shrinks, shrinking fast and slow waning from the left and trimming on the right.

Buzzing mosquito seeks shelter in the warm faux fur hood.

This feeling that is being felt has been felt before, it was felt 8 years ago

The foamy beer loses its foam, loses its cool icy beer touch and suddenly there is nothing left to drink.

It’s time to go home.

You just freaking write bro.

I wrote this intermittently between red lights!

You don’t need something to tell you the best way to write, you already know how to write.

if you have cool/fun/interesting idea just run with it. Spending time figuring out the best way to write something is just eating into time you could actually be writing!

Draft for an hour edit for half an hour and boom!

fuck

fuck

oh fuck

oh god oh fuck

I shouldn’t be swearing this much even in my head

frick

oh fricking frick

I should go on a walk, it’s pitch-black outside only light I see is the helicopter hospital lights and the battery powered string light stars.

I think I’m going to get a little stoned, I usually tend to avoid the alleged wake n bake, but today is different because I have been tossing and turning in bed for an hour in hopes that I would go back to sleep. My head hurts from the little sleep I slept two sleeps ago, but last night I slept pretty good, out like a rock, a full 8 hours (give or take a few minutes or so). I must go walk.

walk made me feel better. I did get stoned, I took a small hit.

Things I thought of on my walk

• I hope this guy doesn’t think I’m sneaking up on him

• the flips in my flops are pretty loud

• am I smoking too much?

• this air feels nice

• oh frick

• digital substack zine could be cool1

• the sky looks scary

• my left calf hurts

• I should walk more

• this guys walking fast

• oh hes running, nice

• walk a mile in my flops

• is this guy gonna hit me no I think he sees me

• that was a really sweet wedding

• whats for breakfast

wait the sun is coming up I’m gonna hit a quick stretch and go buy some potatoes for breakfast maybe some yogurt too idk brb

Things I thought on my second walk

It’s nice to want to see the sunrise. It’s more sweet this way, versus, only wanting to see the “good” sunrises.

This guy was walking pretty fast and I’m walking my normal walk speed, it made me wonder if if he’s walking really fast or if I’m walking really slow because I think everyone kind of walks fast, but if everyone’s walking pretty fast then that probably, logically, has to mean that I’m walking pretty slow, or, what if I’m walking the way exactly god wanted me to walk and so in fact everyone else is being possessed to walk fast, it really does feel like that sometimes.

Oh my God I just realized I already have potatoes. fudge.

Well I guess that’s nice. I’m outside walking because I want to, and the grocery store trip was just a good excuse to go on a walk. Because I can’t be waking up like that. That’s that’s a bad way to wake up. Evil omen. I was feeling overwhelmed when I woke up, idk, overwhelmed by life, idk. I think that’s normal, at least I hope it’s’ normal.

I hate crossing the streets, when I’m stoned I check both ways like 5 times before I cross.

I usually take the stairwell through the garage to get to the store, but I feel so pumped up on this sunrise that I’m just gonna take the full way around. I’m a little stoned, I’m kinda cold, I can see my breathe, and it feels really good.

The clouds look crazy. Whenever I look at clouds I always think it looks like a painting, big gestures of streaking black clouds , white fluffy poofy clouds filling the entire sky, splats of grey clouds — that look like they shouldn’t be there, and don’t really look like clouds at all, oh my god why do they sort of hurt my eyes , are my eyes okay — thin strings of clouds connecting all the other black gray white clouds together, all moving surprisingly fast westward. A highway of clouds above my head, commuting to work.

I’m gonna be in and out of the store so I can stare at the sky a little bit more, it looks nice.

Tiny cart! Tiny cart is the best thing to have ever happen to grocery shopping. Big fat cart was definitely a nerf to cart build2

Oh no the Martinelli‘s are being displayed, the holidays are near...

God the grapes cost eight dollars, oh my God, the grapes cost eight dollars, why the hell are the grapes 8 dollars, I don’t even like Smith grapes they are always bad, I can’t ever try a grape because there are 4 guys stocking produce that it would be disrespectful to them to nonchalantly eat a test grape, that it would be shameless of me to do so. Never mind

Imma get some fruit spread, jam and toast sounds so good actually mmmmmmm.

I’m gonna stop for a second and stare the sunrise. Going back to my sunrise talk. If I’m being honest with myself, the sunrise isn’t particularly all thaaat great. It’s nice don’t get me wrong but I’m not gonna say it’s majestic, if I were to rate this sunrise I’d probably give it a 6 out of 10.

Anyways the place is covered with bowls and takeout containers, from last night. So imma clean those and start my day.

There are approximately 786,543 ghosts knocking at my noggin, all of them are from varying different regions, mining in the banana pepper mines, frolicking along the string bean hills, riding russian rollercoasters in german theme parks, scuttling in crumbling oceanside crab manors, tucked away in turtles mouths, and high above the synthetic cotton candy factory clouds where they produce metallic uranium quantum zuronian fridges with the sole purpose of storing nuclear bombs at a cool temperature. These ghosts are drumming their chicken drum drums sticks over my head. I see them in brick hospitals, I see them in quorums of 12, I see them in the boogery discharge around the heavy breathing mans eyesmouthandnose. They haunt me as I drag my wet feet along the gravelly wooden plastic grassy highway, as stage motorcar systems buzz, as men in neon greenyellow shirts noisily tear away at the growing reeds and cryptids with large swathing black and red industrial machines, harvesting them for diet Coke and Budweiser, for store brand Cheerios and store brand Ziploc Bags, for pounds of grey discolored meat, and Trojan Condoms, in varying sizes. I surf the glorious electric wave full of nonsensical colors and cookie crunchy sounds, soothing my soul with nonsensical colors and cookie crunchy sounds, staring idly, blearied eyed, I look past the dancing blue and yellow past the CRUNCH & MUNCH of the tasty chocolatey chippy cookie, the diet Coke electric nuclear cookie flavored apparition stares at me with its nonexistent stare, the bags under my eyes grow so big, so massive and ample, swallowing me into a fleshy colored world full of blood vessels and sunspots, it’s warm in here.

Same Side Sitting (SSS) is the only way you should be dining from now on. Since you aren’t facing your subject indefinitely, you are freeing up cognitive resources. Producing more thoughtful, honest, and interactive conversations. Same Side Sitting (SSS) simultaneously increases your table real estate from an estimated 33% to 50%.

Same Side Sitting (SSS) is defined as an arrangement in which two diners occupy the same side of a table, or adjacent sides of a square table. Across Table Sitting (ATS) is defined by a seating arrangement in which two diners occupy opposite sides of a table, while in direct line of sight of one another.

Across Table Sitting (ATS) has been widely accepted as the norm for countless demographics and cultures. This in turn makes Across Table Sitting (ATS) the default. Few have asked themselves if this is the best possible way to be sitting while dining. The pitfalls of Across Table Sitting (ATS) are as follows: Conversational pressure, opposing view points, sub optimal table space, and being forced to involuntarily watch someone eat.

I therefore propose that Same Side Sitting (SSS) be adopted as the preferred arrangement for casual dining.

This study is limited to casual dining contexts involving two diners at a booth or square table. Parties of three or more are outside its scope, and will not pertain to this discussion.

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Across Table Sitting (ATS)

Just because it’s the normal choice doesn’t make it the correct choice.

You both finally sit down. And you defaulted for ATS. You sit down, get nestled in, and instantly you are face to face with your dining compatriot. You have just made a silent pact. For the next hour you will be your diners world. The deafening silence will be your doing, the pulling out phones will be your fault, you must entertain! You haven’t seen each other in a few months surely there is something to say!

After an excruciating amount of time you are finally saved by the waiter. Free to bury your nose in your menu, hiding away from the all seeing eyes. It is worth mentioning that some places have converted to phone menus, which allows you to bypass the awkward pre meal staring.

It’s hard not to be self-conscious eating in front of someone. They are in your personal space, right in front of you. You eat differently because, taking smaller bites, you sit differently, you even chew differently. Or you’re so shameless that you eat like a slob shoveling your food down, bringing the plate to your face to get the last few grains of rice, grabbing the naan to clean up the leftover curry. Is there anything more disgusting than watching someone shovel food down their pink wet mouth hole? I am horrified when I watch someone eat, but It’s like a horrible 10 pile up car crash. I can’t possibly look away.

The space you have while you eat is much more limited when ATSing. You lose perfectly good real estate. Instead forcing yourselves to use only 33% of the table, feeling cluttered regardless of how many items were ordered.

Overall ATS is an archaic way to be dining with friends, family, and romantic endeavors. Your meal now feels like interrogation or job interviews. Every little thing you do is magnified by the all seeing eye. The only reason someone would prefer this is because they are too focused on the outcome.

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Same Side Sitting (SSS)

Join us on the Same Side.

You finally sit down at your table and you both sit on the Same Side. I can hear it already, the most shallow of excuses, “But I want to see their face”. If you really wanted to see their face (which you actually don’t), you just turn your fricking head. ( which also means that you are making the conscious decision to look at their face which means more. You can have meaningful eye contact with someone, instead of forcing it.)

There is zero pressure. You slowly get comfortable at your table, shoulder to shoulder with your dining companion. The background of waiters and diners, with clicking plates and tapping forks becomes something you both share. A soft fascination for your eyes. Attention synchronizes. Silence is no longer a standoff, only breaking it when you notice or have something interesting to say.

SSS lends to a better ordering experience overall. since you’re SSS you really only need one menu. Making the whole ordering process far more enjoyable, commenting freely on what sounds good and critiquing the interesting choice of the Fried Jalapeno Mac and Cheese Oreo Bites. The waiter faces both diners at the same time, giving waiter free reign to stand wherever they feel most comfortable instead of needing to be between both diners. When the waiter is gone you can have a more relaxed lull between ordering and getting your food. You are less obligated to talk which leads to more thoughtful and interesting talks. You’re so caught up in good conversation you’re shocked at how fast the food came out.

You have so much table real estate that there is not need for table organization. You might be saying to yourself, but Consumer Report, wouldn’t sitting next to someone instantly mean you have less space! Quite the contrary! When you are sitting ATS, you are only, effectively using ⅓ of table space, when you SSS you are splitting the table vertically essentially doubling your table real estate.

Lastly, you can eat in peace, free from watchful eyes. Also, you don’t have to watch this disgusting bag of flesh engorge on Fried Jalapeno Mac and Cheese Oreo Bites.

The Romance

It’s worth mentioning the romantic aspects of SSS and ATS respectively. Honestly the whole reason I am writing this is because many of my friends believe that ATS is the right choice, and it literally hurts my head when I hear that. How dumb do you have to be to not realize ATS is the inferior way of going on dates.

ATS vs SSS is a perfect vibe check.

You know exactly what kind of date you’re going on if you ATS. 21 questions about work life and fun. The most braindead, disingenuous, talking you could do on a date. Two adversaries trying to whittle down one another with geometric corporate performance reviews all to avoid the crushing weight of direct face-to-face silence.

SSS? oh heck yeah! You are a team now. Special Mission Ops Task Force Army of Two. Mission. Whatever happens you got each others backs.

Imagine someone doesn’t want to SSS with you. I would honestly just leave at that point because oh my god how stiff and serious would you have to be to not want to SSS. Hyper fixated on performance and presentation. Whereas SSS. Relaxed, low pressure, a teammate, a companion.

ATS if you hate your date SSS if you like them

Crippling Anxiety

Some of my more astute readers would have found out by now, that the only way I could be so fixated on seating orientation and arrangements is because I am a cripplingly anxious individual. I am tortured by the horrendous thought of having to stare at someone, while they stare back at me. I meet their gaze and all I can do is avert my eyes, fearing what they will see. All my secrets are kept in my eyes.

Which (my crippling anxiety) gives me the exact perfect qualifications to speak on the matter of dining seating orientation.

I am pained. Truly pained. By the amount of shitty to miserable dining experiences I’ve had with friends, families, and dates. Eating out is one of the funnest things you can do. To meet up with someone you like, get some food you’ve been thinking about, maybe get a drink or two, and talk about everything and nothing. What more could you need.

Yet I’m always left wanting for more. Getting annoyed at the fact that I just didn’t eat at home. I can confidently say my worst most depressing meals were directly related to ATS. When you sit across from someone you want to be anywhere else, you want to do anything else.

ATS is autopilot. It’s been the default. It’s what you’re supposed to do.

SSS is wrong and weird. It’s been unjustly ridiculed and mocked. I think it’s time SSS becomes the new norm.

CONSUMER REPORT 4EVER>!?! T_T 🛜⚖️⏰

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Huh?

I wrote these first few paragraphs in my boxers. A cheap pair of tricolored, red black and white, checkered boxers. Yet how could I discuss the war within when I am naked? I don myself in the essential garbs of an experienced wartime constable. Armed with hemmed wool trousers (that tastefully drag on the floor because I was quite hungover the morning I hemmed them). A Lucky™ checkered collared shirt, 100% cotton, lucky you. Lastly. The cheap boxers I mentioned previously. Finalized by a faint spritzing of my Temu ordered Phantom fragrance by Rabanne.

The first step of war is to get dressed.

There are two kingdoms raging war

Kingdom #2496

An affluent kingdom full of branded commerces, pety squabbles, and dysfunctional townspeople, who won’t look you in the eye. There is no shortage of deceit, greed, and jealousy amongst this world. Wade through the impoliteness and awkwardness, there you will see a flicker of sincerity, a faint glow radiating from within the cold cobbled walls, within it’s beige lined halls.

Hidden inside the kingdoms exuberant and lively trade, lies promise of community and brotherhood. A brotherhood where you feel genuinely seen and heard, where what you say matters and where people actually listen. That if you are so bold, willing to rise, you can be the voice of inspiration. A kingdom full of kings begging to be led.

There lies a bleeding pumping organ tirelessly working to find someone to share its aches and joys with. You step into the rubbery bloody valves and hope you can see the inner mechanics of this made up world.

A Dead end. You go deeper, bending your own reality with each step. Armor encasing your body magically. First greaves, then cuirass, gauntlets, then helmet. A knight descending inward, to destroy the evil laughing spirits that reside in a dark brooding Black Forest chapel, changing shapes when the moon rises, and sun sets. Placed far between bug infested swamps, fiery chili pepper volcanoes, endless soda stream tides, and elaborately painted 3D printed trees.

A fictional castle set upon a fictional path. A fictional winding road leading nowhere. Paper mache owls with mechanical hoots. Card board maidens with synthetic gels. Plastic beaches with overweight beachballs. Polyester clouds and multipurpose rain. A make believe world, for your make believe life. Full of make believe problems, with make believe solutions.

Kingdom #2497

A kingdom born of brutes. Crude tasteless degeneracy. You believe that you are able to enjoy this depravity because you are merely an outsider looking in. Simultaneously knowing that you are just as bad, if not worse, than all these other oafs. You believe that you could, and would, be happier if you would lean entirely into this depravity nature that lies dormant within. You suppress the spark in your cob webbed throat from blurting even more offensive vulgarities.

An empire built off your dark primitive spirit. Buildings erected from your disgusting selfish thoughts. Citizens born as the heavens hear your perverse constitution. Mountains and rivers terraform from your wants and needs.

Cows and chickens, farmers and bankers, wagons and meadows, living and dying. A less charming world, with less charming problems.

Staring at your own muddied reflection you begin to truly believe that this is the most righteous path. Embrace this reality full heartedly, with two outstretched arms, open hands, caress the two heaping mounds of flesh, stroke your joy above the stars, and into your tired milky eyes.

No need for imaginary knight ghost adventures. There is work that must be done. There are women to love, horses to ride, riches to earn people to kill booze to drink, and a life to live.

E-40 Choices (Yup. Nope)

Black and white. Dozens of lives emerge from decisions. Loud mouthed individuals who drag me down, petty inscrutable types who tug on my patient strings. I oscillate between white and black, at such a frequency that all you ever see is a blurry gray man standing still. Choice is no longer mine to make. I forfeit myself entirely to my compromised mind.

Which do I choose? The opalescent kingdom, refracting at different bends of light, or a kingdom of differently sized sticks and differently shaped stones.

A chewy, sweet figgy center

I continue on, in my checkered shirt. Dull pain creeping from my right shoulder climbing up my ear along my neck. I stare outside to a very wet world. Wet cement, wet grass, wet cars, wet cables, wet squirrels, wet shingles, wet pools, not to mention my wet pipe which I should have brought inside.

I look inward for answers. I find questions. I look outward for answers. I find more questions. I look sideways in the mirror. I see a new freckle. I stare outside the window. I see a red brick duplex with 3 tiny chimney smokestacks (that never smoke). I see a hospital floor with bulletproof glass.

I twiddle my fingers one way, then the other way. I go downstairs and see if there is weed in the pipe. If there is I smoke, if there isn’t I don’t.

CONSUEMR REPORT 4 EVER? ⏱️🦠

I ate my eggs in 5 minutes and 2 seconds. I used to think that eating eggs took me 3-4 times as long as it did to cook them. In all honesty cooking and eating are probably around the same time but the cleaning is what added some extra time.

So in total to eat and cook my breakfast it took me 12 minutes and 43 seconds. The breakfast isn’t anything to scoff at 4 eggs, 2 slices of bread. 28 grams of protein from the eggs and 8 grams of protein from the bread. 36 grams of protein in total. 280 calories from the eggs and 240 from the bread. 520 calories in total.

The only thing I could ask for is more greens maybe some fruit but I’m not a big fan of having fruit directly with a meal I’d rather have it before or after but not during.

Now this meticulous calculation is happening subconsciously while I’m eating my eggs. The time it takes and the energy that it gives me.

I’m not one to think about death all that much. I tend to keep it at bay because if I catch myself thinking about it too much then I start to get pretty scared about that actual thought of dying. Yet, it’s the very idea of protein caloric tracking and egg cooking cleaning timing that is related directly to death in a subconscious way. Why else would I be so interested/obsessed with how much something is “healing” me and how long it takes to “heal” me. Suddenly all my thoughts and actions are essentially a mirrored abstracted version contemplating about death.

But the only reason I’m even making these connections is because I wanted 4/5ths of The Seventh Seal (Which I enjoyed much more as an adult versus my first viewing as an adolescent). Which had me believe that every action we take is to deter or encourage death.

It is my timing of eggs that shows just how scared of death I actually am.

(Writing this took me 6 minutes and 36 seconds)

Block B

The sky looks like a painting.

As soon as you pass the light you see her running down the street, but not really running, almost galloping, with arms reaching all the way out to the sides, almost like she’s going to take off and fly away. You stop walking, and keep staring at her as she blurs into the row of trees next to the school.

A borderless figure of brown and blue walks towards you, you aren’t really sure what you’re looking at because you left your glasses at home. You get closer to the figure and notice it’s two people but you’re still not sure what they actually are. Worried that you’re staring too much you look westward towards the sunset.

Three blazing lines of apricot colored fumes slash through the sky, white edges separate the cuts from the evening blue backdrop. You look back and see a tattooed couple. Him in nondescript shorts and shirt with tattoos on his eyelids. Her in a pink floral short summer dress, that doesn’t really work with her skin tone.

They stopped on the street corner to stare at the same sky you were staring at. He extends his decrepit finger to assuage us (me and his companion) from the fact that he has nothing to say. You can’t help but think that their gratitude and appreciation for the sky pales in comparison to what it means to you. That the image you effortlessly painted in your head is something that neither of these tattooed fools could ever accomplish. They are imposters at best pretending to appreciate things they think they should appreciate — like golden sunsets.

Block A

An empty bank parking lot.

The sky is still looking quite remarkable, but without the pressure of the couple staring at you, it (the sky) seems much less meaningful than it did last block. You lose all interest in trying to think of something generally poetic to say about the sky.

You see a couple skating in the aforementioned bank parking lot — yet they very well may be floating, you can’t be for certain because you could only see their upper halves. They are floating under a beautiful sunset with tiny wisps of light piercing through empty space leaving little honey colored beams that beamed on the young to middle aged skaters — you can’t be for certain of their age because you didn’t have your glasses.

You are almost moved to tears, what a clear and obvious display of love and affection. More romantic than the most romantic movie, more sweet than the sweetest chalky hearts. You stop and stare for a moment. Wires and trees, churches and clouds, bells and banks, underneath them, a sweet romantic couple floating together, in an empty bank parking lot.

Dominoes

Outside the dominoes you find hospital papers for Anthony G. Parker who almost shares the same birthday as you. Born in 1958. Anthony is 68. (Out of respect for Anthony I will refrain from saying why he was in the hospital.) You feel bad for Anthony. The only reason you would leave important documents like this on the street is because, you have no garbage can to throw them away in. Imagine not having your own garbage can to throw stuff away in.

Inside dominoes.

A man named Kevin whose face is too red is wearing seemingly very uncomfortable Chacos, so uncomfortable that the canvas straps were chafing on his feet, and tearing away at his toes.

There was another man Audrey who seemed expensive. You liked that he looked expensive. In his white Converse with no show socks — a clear sign of frugality, which lends itself to big expensive coffers. A nicely colored polo that looked like red wine — a bold tasteful color choice that only the affluent would try.

The Dominoes team member you spoke with was a freshly faced ginger youth who seemed to be in high spirits. You didn’t say hi. You just asked if your pizza was ready. As you turned away you feel like you failed the youth. You wished you said hi.

You stare listlessly into the open kitchen under the harsh lighting. You can’t help but feel bad for the Dominoes team members, only because you would be very annoyed having to work in an open kitchen where people like Kevin and Audrey can stare at you —which what’s actually pretty funny because the only person staring was you. One woman catches your eye, she seems older maybe around 50 or 40. She seems to be the commander of the pizza operation. Her nose is prominent and covered in just enough warts that she seemed like a witch.

The hunched witch waddles around in the kitchen shouting “Kevin!”and “Audrey!” Soon You are alone in the witches fluorescent abode. She calls you over. And with an indiscernible smirk she hands you your feta, green pepper, onion pizza fresh out of the oven. You aren’t exactly sure if she smirked as you didn’t have your glasses.

Block 1

The Dominoes Handmade Pan Pizza heats up your hand as you walk back.

OKay byyee

the pizza was honestly so good top tier pizza build. Also I saw the couple skaters smoking on my walk back I wanted to offer them 2 slices for the rest of their joint but figured that would be too weird.

CONSUMER REPORT 4ever??

I’m getting dressed for Andrea Birthday party. I put on my green acrylic 4 way stretch Tru Religion Jeans, I look through my polos and throw on my classic staple black grey polo on — or so I thought.

I’m having a decent time at the party I show up tastefully late, and I have one clear obvious objective. Get Drunk. Drink. Find booze, find lots of booze.

After a painfully grating amount of time sitting between sober and barely buzzed. I take 6 jello shots. Which I soon started to believe were not getting me drunk at a rate that I wished for. At this point I wasn’t really giving that much thought to anyone who was talking to me I was too preoccupied with the thought that I must drink more! That I must drink so I can begin to enjoy myself and reach a neutral state rather than this suspicious anxiety that was creeping in.

Hennessy. Michelob. Soju.

I’m feeling good. Now I can finally pay attention to people. The first thing Alex tells me is a certain loose “acquaintance” whose name he pleaded with me not to disclose. Referred to me only by my Instagram handle rather than by my real name. I do find it interesting though on why someone would go to the lengths to pretend to forget my name. ESPECIALLY. When this same supposed “acquaintance” (whose acquaintance I've known for 10+ years — which honestly is pretty crazy) hello goodbye’s me at a previous event not two weeks earlier. This is very telling of a certain demeanor that some spefici certain people of this sort exhibit. They are being viewed with magnifying glass by the all seeing hand. Constant scrutiny, constant games, truly a tireless endeavor.

To be honest this didn’t really bother me in the slightest, and for some reason I feel more offended at my friends for thinking it would bother me. But maybe it’s something I should be bothered by. Though I can see friends being more bothered by “attacks” directed at me more than I would be.

Vodka. Vodka. Vodka.

Next door to the party there is a rave. Rave is good vibes. We would get very side tracked if we talked about the rave, and I’ve already gotten very sidetracked talking about “acquaintance”, so I’m doubly worried that if I were to talk about the Plum House rave I would lose the interest of the remaining readers who had made it this far, additionally I don’t really want to go through the mental loops and bows to try and make sense of the rave. Though I will say Nakita was taking lots of pictures of people at the rave and I think I saw genuine childlike happiness.

Water. Water. Water.

It’s 1AM (or at least I think it was) I’m in good spirits, dare I say high spirits. Then Juan stops me.

I’m a bit embarrassed to admit but I genuinely did not know there was a difference between USPA and Ralph Lauren. Saying that out loud I feel like a complete and utter fool.

There I am slowly trying to sober up so I can continue on with my night of excessive drinking, and Juan has to stab me in my stomach with his classist consumerist blade. Shoving it deeper and deeper. Too embarrassed to admit that I genuinely did not know there was a difference between USPA and Ralph Lauren. I hold the line and go idgaf. Though dear beloved readers I must say that I deeply cared.

Surrounded by all my well dressed friends with their properly sized Polo Ponys; grey buttons ups, striped polos, denim jeans, all Polo. While I stand humiliated, drunk, and entirely all alone in my USPA.

OKay CYA

Fun Party!

CONSUMER REPORT 4 EVR? 🛜🧌🧱

I went to Trader Joes today and did all my shopping in a record time of around 15 minutes. The only real highlight being that I picked up two sorts of greek yogurts, one plain, one strawberry. With my cart1 of greek yogurt varieties, woodland candle, and organic grapes among other daily food like essentials; chicken salad, corn, garbanzo beans, chicken, sweet potatoes.

During my shopping expedition I happened to see my favorite Trader Joes team member, an asian man with glasses, last time we talked we bonded over quick easy recipes and the never-ending horror of window unit acs during summer. Today he was wearing a purple shirt.

Done shopping I make my way towards checkout. I see the same purple shirt and thinking it was my Trader Joes "friend” (though I would never tell him I consider us friends, only due to my own worry of him not considering me a friend) I lock myself into the third checkout lane. To my horror the purple shirt, houses a man unbeknownst to myself, a stranger, an intruder, an enemy?

A man wearing glasses and fairly straight teeth, a bit of some stubble, brown hair, and slightly pink white skin, but not offensively pink by any means. He asked me how I was today. To which I said “eeeeehhhhhhhhh, I’m alright.” Silence encroached us at the third checkout lane. Before the silence swallowed us into an awkward checkout lane, the purple shirted imposter asks

“why alright? is that your sort of baseline or is alright mean sort of y’know below baseline?”

To which I said “hmmmmmmm good question. Let me think.”

How can I be expected to know exactly how I feel in the Trader Joes check out lane? At this exact right moment? Is that too miserable of a question to pose to myself? Why can’t I just accept that I’m feeling kinda good and leave it at that? Why must I anguish over a simple question? What awful hell that I am forcing these Trader Joes team members to endure?

Yet I don’t have much time to think of a proper response that I can give. A response that would satisfy my desperate need of wanting to be interesting to the Trader Joes team.

The bagger (who I haven’t mentioned yet) speaks for the first time. “It’s okay to feel however you feel”. This cheap hallmark card quote actually offered me quite a bit of relief, I was in real danger of having an existential crisis about why is it taking me so long to respond. Her kind words saved me. Yet I was still expected to answer the question that the Trader Joes Clerk posed.

The awkwardness was growing, how could I not have reached a decent explanation for the way that I feel? Is my feeling “alright” my baseline?

Then through seemingly divine intervention. The barcode on my Strawberry greek yogurt was missing. How funny that I should pick up and splurge on two different greek yogurts. If fate had me only pick one it would surely be the plain and that plain yogurt scanned just fine. But I got two greek yogurts. The heavens rewarded me for my enjoyment of strawberry based dairy products.

Clerk and bagger simultaneously dumbfounded by the packaging discrepancy, they share a confused glance. Attention has been fully taken off of me. The faint interest they had in my response is nearly entirely gone. A new much more interesting problem has arisen. The missing barcode. I see this heavenly boon offered to me inside the downtown Traders Joes at checkout lane three.

Time is of the essence I must move quickly. For you see I am no longer in Trader Joes. The question. The boon. The clerk. The bagger. I’m transported mountain top. Where I am being judged by two venerable holy clerics. Who will ultimately decide if I shall pass beyond them into the sanctity of the Brotherhood of Memorable Customers. How I so desperately want to be let in.

This whole self inflicting torment lasted all but 1 or 2 minutes yet it felt like an eternity. Finally bagger comes back with code, clerk puts in code we all share a limp chuckle about the hilarity of this one packaging discrepancy. I glance at the register to ensure the code they input was in fact the same $5.49 price tag that I was promised in the dairy section. Finally ready. I take a deep breath.

“My alrightness is usually my baseline, but today I’m feeling slightly more “alright” than my usual alrightness, but that is not to say that I’m exactly good and or great. I like to reserve my “goods” and “greats” for moments that are respectively “good” and or “great”. Though I do find this cloudy weather to be quite enjoyable. I hope it stays cloudy all day. To be honest I think a big part of my alrightness is probably because I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to shop. I hate shopping. There’s too many people. I would be much happier if I was holed up in my home on a cloudy day like today, but that is my plan as soon as I leave here. So maybe I am feeling good. But yes, I think my “alrightness” is usually my baseline.”

They both passively nod to what I have just said. I don’t think they were really paying attention. The purple shirted man for sure wasn’t, he was just waiting to read me the total $72.49.

Byebye

Okay cya later CONSUMER REPORT 4EVER??? 🦠🕉️🚙

️

You ain’t gonna read sh*t like this anywhere else. Stay hot, fun, and sexy. 🧡🛜🌳

What is bro talking about?

I recently heard the words infraculture and supraculture. Supraculture being essentially everything popular and mainstream, taking form pervasively, happening without you noticing. Infraculture isn’t the opposite but let’s say the more magnified concept of the two. Focusing more on the granular details among all the different cultures, that one finds themselves in.

Let’s say you are an avid drinker and quite the fan of cocktails. Supraculture is the liking of drinking and cocktails. Infraculture is knowing all the different sorts of cocktails; Negroni, Aperol sprits, martini, zombie. Forming an opinion on which vodka works best for your vodka soda, having a preference on the ratio used for your said vodka soda, maybe 60/40 or even 70/30. Knowing what kind of tools the bartender needs. What brand of shakers that a specific bar uses, and if you like those brands yourself. Supraculture is a much simpler and easier method of enjoying something without really needing to give a good reason why you enjoy something, aside from that you like it.

Or to really dumb it down and to a disservice to the words themselves.

Supraculture is Mainstream.

Infraculture is underground.

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No really? What is bro talking about?

I was reading this book “Identities” and in it Chantal finds herself happy to be conforming to her world and actually decides to enjoy the company of her co-workers rather than be disgusted by them and the things they stand for.

Suddenly all I was thinking about was a life of conforming and not conforming. A life lived in the supra or infra cultures. What that means, and what is preferred.

Life in the infraculture is much lonelier since it’s essentially hiding under a rock, in a world full of rocks. You lift up one stone and find a world of “Niche weird awkward electronic sonic dance music”. Which you can only enjoy your weird electronic ambient dance music in private, since other people wouldn’t get it, or even worse, ruin the very sanctity of the thing you enjoy. The supraculure doesn’t understand it the same way you do and unfortunately they never ever will.

They don’t understand how deeply nuanced the “Niche weird awkward electronic sonic dance music” that you enjoy actually is. But it is exactly this loneliness that these sick infracultured perverts enjoy. Taking pride in being misunderstood. That no one gets their cool niche weird music tastes. That I am such a unique person for liking this very odd unique music. This belief alone pushed the infraculturist further and further away from the authoritarian supra culture world that they inhabit.

Oh, no!

Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, people start to like your “Niche weird awkward electronic sonic dance music”. But they don’t like it the way you like it. There is no way they could ever like it like you. The way they like it is a bastardization of the way you like it. Rather than finding joy in seeing the “Niche weird awkward electronic sonic dance music” you once loved flourish, you are riddled with disdain and hate. For two reasons.

1. Why the fuck did people steal my swag.

2. No really? Who the fuck are you jacking my swag.

Suddenly your unique loneliness is being invaded. “Niche weird awkward electronic sonic dance music” turns into “Cool popular electronic sonic vibe music”. Disgusted by the world and what they have done to your beloved cherished baby, you lash out. You burn bridges with your once cherished “Niche weird awkward electronic sonic dance music” and say that shit sucks ass.

Once again you find yourself on the outskirts of the supraculture. Rather than joining them and conforming to the “Cool popular electronic sonic vibe music”, you look for something new. Looking for comfort in the abstract abstractedness of the many rocks of the world.

The salmon swims up stream.

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The salmon swims up stream? wtf is bro talking about?

Supraculture seems like the happier of places to be. The conforming to the thoughts and ideas of others without really needing to give much thought to the supposed conforming. Suddenly apart of a mastermind hive mind. Your thoughts feel less unique and there is genuine happiness not needing to think so hard, a sort of happiness you can only find when you find yourself not thinking so hard.

Think of the everyday civilian Nazi. Don’t imagine a brown shit colored combat boot armband nazi. Imagine the sweet old lady feeding the birds Nazi. The group of friends getting ice cream Nazis. I doubt they would give much thought to their Nazism integration but it just sort of happened. Unceremoniously, passively, in the back of their head. Zoom in. You’re at the bar, Bad Bunny turns on, you’re shouting lyrics to a song you sorta know, maybe half mumbling the words, standing at the townsquare, saluting, raising your arms, raising your voice, screaming and shouting, with the thousands of other supposed Nazis/singers by your sides. Would you rather sing Bad Bunny with a bar full of your friends, or go to jail for not being a Nazi?

It’s easy to conform, it’s nice to conform. There are more friends here, more happy people who want to talk to you about all sorts of happy things. Things that don’t demand so much attention. Light breezy things, in turn, those light breezy things make you feel more light and breezy. That you start to believe in your own light and breeziness so much so that every morning you find yourself singing along with your favorite Bruno Mars songs. So much that you actually want to watch The Lord of the Rings: Two towers directors cut (3 hours and 55min btw) because it’s chill you like this sorta stuff. Why be the downer that would rather die than sit through a 4 hour movie in a slightly too hot townhome where there is no comfortable place to sit except for one or two spots but those are dedicated to the hosts.

Why swim up the stream that’s too much work. Let the stream carry you.

All this is to say that while I do find myself predominantly in the infraculture, reading that page really made me reflect on why that is. Why don’t I conform a little more. All this fighting and struggling with the predominant culture that surrounds me is futile. There is nothing cool or honorable about going against the grain. But for some reason I can’t help but deeply deeply believe that there is actually something really cool and really honorable for not wanting to watch The Lord of the Rings: Two towers directors cut (3 hours and 55min btw) with my friends. As I drink alone at 2PM on a Saturday. Typing and clacking away.

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OKay byee

Really ty for whoever reads this and especially to those who glaze me (you know who you are) I wouldn’t say it makes me want to write more but it definitely makes it easier so tysm gang. CONSUMER REPORT 4 EVER SMD  🛜🧮🏰

I’m happy to report that it wasn’t at all awkward, and that actually, we had a delightful time talking together. Which felt like the first time, in recent memory, that I actually talked with Taylor. We talked about a bunch of mumbo jumbo and I was rambling and ranting a lot. Yet it was exactly this sort of directionless talking that made me feel compelled to think about just how nice it, our talk, was.

Taylor has always given me this sneaky, crafty, devious, conniving vibe — I hate to say it but the first thing I thought of was like the Mentats from Dune. Always in someone’s ear saying exactly what they want to hear. Always playing his own game. Being super nice to everyone and climbing his social ladder. I can’t trust someone that nice. Surely there is an ulterior motive to all this supposed niceness. It’s funny because I don’t know Taylor at all. And all this could be a deflection because if I believe he is nicer than me, that would mean he’s Good Taylor and I’m Evil Taylor…

But that doesn’t explain why I felt compelled to write anything.

it was nice talking with him unexpectedly. He never even glanced at his phone. Amazing. But I am a bit confused on what I even want to say.Why do I feel like this is important enough for me to sit down and write about it? Did I really just want to say that I think Taylor is sneaky and I like it. That seems kinda weird. Or maybe I’m writing this as a way to sort of mythologize our meeting. That now it carries more weight, and means something more.

I am thinking to myself I hope he reads this, and after our talk today he would totally get and understand what I’m going for.

Which is strangely a sincere thing to do. Acting on such sincerity feels out of character from me. I never go through with my sincere ideations. And maybe the whole point is that for whatever reason I felt so touched from our talk that it made me do something sincere.

Now that I remember. I saw hector too, and we had a really great talk. Wait this is funny because me and Taylor were talking about this. It’s easier for new relationships to feel more prominent.

Me and Hector have nice talk. Whatever we do that all the time. I know him. This isn’t all that special.

Me and Taylor have nice talk. Suddenly I’m moved by the thought of friendship sincerity and kinship.

And this meant so much more because we met entirely randomly. Or was it divine intervention? hrmm

PAUSE

okay thats enough of this weirdo sincerity mental unpacking nonsense. I don’t know what any of that means and I’m not sure if anything I said makes sense.

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Regardless we have more interesting and pressing matters to focus on.

OVERALLS

I saw a guy in overalls today… 100 degrees, and this clown wants to wear fricking overalls. Grown man trying to make himself look like a kid. A grown man infantilizing himself. Ew. Yuck.

This is one of those things where you really have to intervene and save someone from wearing them. I would like to assume most people have tried to wear overalls once in their life. I can say that overall experimentation is acceptable in early 20s. Maybe like 17-23, I would say is an acceptable age to try out overalls. I’m not saying it’s okay to wear them but it makes sense to be Overall-curious (OC).

You are OC and maybe you went thrifting once and you found overalls that sorta fit and you can roll it up and you think maybe I can rock this look maybe this is who I am. Look how nice it is I’m covered in denim and they have a little pocket in front. I can put my phone in that front pouch pocket oh that’d be pretty cool. You keep day dreaming maybe overalls are what have been missing from your wardrobe. Desperate to make a change, you slowly become more and more OC. The Overall Curiosity then festers long enough and you actually buy a pair.

Then you wear the pair once. Realize how big of a jackass you look like, and never wear them again.

So I pray to god that the GROWN man I saw today in overalls in 100 degree heat is much older than he looks, and that he is actually younger than I assumed. And that I caught him on a Saturday afternoon trying out a new look. And that he goes home suffering from heat exhaustion. Sits in his uncomfortable stupid overalls for a few minutes thinking to himself. Finally deciding to look at himself in the mirror and say to himself.

“Grown fucking man in overalls… What the fucks wrong with me?”

And lights his overalls on fire.

Dear readers, please, whatever you do do not wear overalls.

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Heres the issue

Ending my article(blog) with only 2 sections feels rather cheap. Most good things are paired in 3s. Why have 2 when you can have 3? So if you can give me just a moment while I mull over something to talk about.

…

Ah I got it!

Double Texting

Friend Alex told me that he wants to double text girl who ghosted him. To give it plainly I am in the camp belonging to the notion that Alex should absolutely double text. That not double texting is in fact the more cowardly thing to do. The worst thing that will happen is you continue to get ghosted, big deal, nothing changed. Where at least if you texted you aren’t thinking about if you should text them — though you might start if you should’ve texted them, which I would argue it’s better to think of “should’ve” rather than “if”. But what stops us from double texting.

Pride. And what is the first deadly sin? Pride!

So in a sense not double texting is only furthering you away from living your righteous life. The fastest remedy to your own pride is the double text. What a more shameful and pitiful self flagellating act than the double text. To grovel and kneel for someone to maybe, if they could, find some time, to text me back.

Please just double text bro

Okay goodbye

Well I wrote some stuff and I hope you enjoyed what I said. I really do like name dropping friends because I wonder if they ever read it and if they do they probably won’t say anything to me which I like even more. Or even the thought of Juan reading about Taylor and Alex is funny, and seeing hector get grazed across. Thinking how I didn’t even mention Jordan even though Jordan is technically the only reason I met Taylor. Which makes it even funnier because I say I met Taylor through divine intervention which in this case makes Jordan the divine part.

Overalls are immediate red flag. Avoid at all costs. I wonder if the dude wearing overalls double texts? I’d like to assume he does… Which almost makes me wanna go back on the whole double texting argument.

Okay whatever I hope you found this read somewhat enjoyable and insightful in some sort of way.

CONSUMER REPORT 4 EVR AND EVR 🛜💳🌳

RUNNING

I run to lose weight.1 The weight loss will in turn make me feel better about myself, because I will look better. I will look better because I am skinnier. The few pounds that I do manage to lose will make everything feel lighter. Not just lighter in the physical sense but lighter in the emotional and spiritual sense. My soul will be brighter, my mind will float higher My joints will thank me, my muscles will thank me, my skin will thank me. My family will love me, my friends will love me, strangers will love me.

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In turn this fat around my neck and waist and thighs and arms are holding me back, they are actively siphoning the light out of my life. The light, I have found out, that my world so desperately needs. The light that I need to be light enough to float above the stormy bleak horizon and see the light that shines on the upper top half of colorful clouds. The light of the heavens will light up my eyes and I’ll run into the pearly colored gates of heavens pearly gates. But this can only be true if I run.

The current issue I face is that I am heavy, or in a more literal sense fat, but I’m not acceptably fat enough for most people, to where my claiming fat comes off as insincere. Yet my fat is real enough to where I can’t leave the house due to the thought of my grotesque fat body running up and down the streets.

This, literal heaviness, weighs heavy upon me, mentally. I get dressed in black 5 inch Patagonia shorts, white True Religion socks though I specifically look for the ones that have turned black, symbolically significant blue Altras, and whichever shirt would successfully hide my bouncing folds of fat, and I am dressed. I look in the mirror. Disgusted. I am disgusting too leave the house. Funny how I feel too disgusting to do the very thing that should lend me in escaping my own disgust. I am thrown into a vicious cycle.

My mind burdened by my body; My body burdened by my mind; laughing in the dark with my disgust and shame; Light my only saving grace.

The fear is right beside me. My mind and body, seemingly for the first time, fuse together to form a pale fleshy barrel that won’t run. Lying there confused and scared. No longer is this about the run. No longer is this about heavy and light.

Porch

A man seemingly middle aged around 30-40ish has been sitting in his car for the past hour. It is 95 degrees outside. I wonder what he’s doing. Periodically his car will hum very loudly and then quiet down. It has only recently begun to agitate me. It sounds something like this.

VRRRRRRRRHHHHHHHHHHUM-duko-duko-duko-duko-duko-duko-VRRRRRRRRHHHHHHHHHHUM-duko-duko-duko-duko-duko-duko

The sound of his churning engine is all I can focus on. While as first I was offended by the awful sounds his silver RAV4 was making, my hate has now turned to him.

A grown man hiding in his car. In the blistering heat. My most flattering idea is that he is much too hot in his AC-less house and has attempted to find comfort in his unmaintained well engineered vehicle. He cowers from the heat of his home to sit in his car, AC blasting. He should get his ass to the store and buy fans or popsicles to help beat the heat — which reminds me I should get a big thing of Otterpops cause it’s gonna be hot as shit this week.

Anyways fuck this guy and his car that shit annoying as hell.

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To hangout or not to hangout

I am facing quite the conundrum. I have been invited to hangout this evening with Jordan and Hector. They would like to play international hit card game One Piece at Kayfabe. While that sounds fun and all I have a pretty good depiction of what my night would look like if I agree to hangout. To make it worse I know that at the earliest, I’d be home by 10pm.

Due to my meticulous clock watching, I have a horrid time deciding if I really actually do in fact want to hangout, at any given time. This is perhaps my most detrimental attribute — well probably not most detrimental as I have quite a bit of detrimental characteristics. I am unable to ever fully commit to a hangout. I will passively hide behind, “I’ll lyk”or “yeah maybe”; or even some sneakier ones like, “yeah sounds fun”, “ooh can’t wait”.

I do this as a tactful move to keep my options open at all times, never committing myself to anything. What if last minute a new more enticing offer appears. It’s the denial of commitment that keeps me open to a day full of possibilities. Possibilities like, taking my barrel of a body for a run, sitting at home unbothered with a sprinkle of depression, going on a nice walk suddenly born again, getting drunk off of expensive Japanese whiskey condemning the very thought of leaving the house.

Yet I know I can’t be as heartless as that. I give in.

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Say I was asked to go to dinner, and I actually agreed. My life is now on Death Row, I sit and wait for the electric chair. My time is forfeit. My time is no longer mine, it is theirs. In an hour I should leave, what should I do? In thirty minutes I should leave, I don’t have time for that. I should leave in fifteen minutes, how do I look? I should leave in 5 minutes, I’ll play on my phone while I wait. I should leave right now, let me use the bathroom really quick. I need to leave, where’d I put my keys?

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I’m staring down neatly organized time blocks. 20 minutes to drive, 10 minutes to get a table, 15 minutes to order, 20 minutes for the food to come out, 20 minutes to eat, 10 minutes to talk, 10 minutes to pay, 20 minutes to drive back.

I leave to go to dinner, sit through dinner, and finally go home after dinner.

Only then can do I finally get my time back. So why do I in the right state of mind ever agree to go out? I don’t agree to go out because I want to have dinner. I don’t want to try the new sushi spot. I don’t want to drive across the valley to have tacos.

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But for you I would. I’ll actively go against my aching pains of committing to plans to go out and spend some time with you. I will hate every minute leading up to our dinner. I’ll hate that I have to leave the house in 30, 20 ,10 minutes. I hate that I’ll have to drive in the middle of the day. I will thoroughly enjoy the time between after we ordered and before our food came. Hopefully that small part will rejuvenate me from my tireless watching of the clock, I hope we talk of many interesting and uninteresting things.

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Thinking

I really don’t want for anything I say here to be taken serious unless you find something worth taking seriously. That’s much to hard for me to decide for myself and for others. The way I find myself talking to myself already seems so exhaustive to where I get exhausted just thinking about all the exhausting thinking I’m doing. It reaches a point where I’m not sure if I’m thinking like this on purpose or not. Is it just a bit? Why would I torture myself with this involved way of thinking, voluntarily? The light above the clouds shines on me. I’m starting to think this is just how I think. Fuck.

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Woof

I’m not really sure what any of this is and or means but I hope it was enjoyable.

Thanks for reading.

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holy fuck I was out here long enough to see the car guy come out of his car. White t-shirt with football helmet on it —not sure which team, blue shorts around 5 inch inseam — the same as mine…, grey slides. He locked his car three times.

CONSUMER REPORT 4 EVR  🪽👕🧮

You ain’t gonna read sh*t like this anywhere else.

Stay hot, fun, and sexy. 🧡🛜🌳

GARBAGE BAG TECH

I have recently been thinking a lot about garbage bags1 and new garbage bag technology. The newest innovation in garbage bag technology is Leak Guard. Though I don’t know if it’s really “innovative”.

Leak Guard does exactly what you’d expect. It guards leaks. But when you think about it. Leak Guard is an admission from Glad that they believe, and or know, that their bags will rip open — seeing as the only way you could have a leak is if your bag was punctured, which doubles that the only reason you would need Leak Guard is if your bag ripped.

Why would anyone buy name brand trash bags for twice the price if your bag can still rip.

Leak Guard is the culmination of 100+ years of garbage bag industry renovations. It seems rather disappointing that this is the best they could come up with.

TOP 5 BEST GARBAGE BAGS

Please let me Preface.

Really there are only two options to pick from. Costco or Amazon 200 count bags. All the other new space age name brand tech trash bags ain’t mean shit if you have to pay $30 for 100 bags. What an awful deal that’s 3x as much as generic brand, and the name brand bags like Glad and Hefty are honestly worse.

Kirkland Signature Flex-Tech 13-Gallon Kitchen Trash Bag, 200-count

This deal is too dang good. $22 for 200 bags. $20 buck all day.

Amazon Basics Scented Trash Bags, Tall Kitchen Drawstring, Clean Fresh Scent, 13 Gallon, 200 Count, Pack of 1

This lowkey might be better than the Kirkland option. These come in at $24 buck buuuut these ones are scented. If you have never treated yourself to scented bags, I strongly suggest that you do. I was never a believer of scented bags, you could even call me a skeptic. I thought for sure the clean smell would fuse with the trash smell making an offensive smell of clean trash. To my surprise, the scented trash bag left me with a mildly pleasant relaxing smell whenever I threw trash away, which in a way worked as a method of keeping me docile due to it’s tranquilizing scent.2

Glad ForceFlex MaxStrength LeakGuard Trash Bags, 13 Gal, Sunshine Lemon Scent, 90 Ct (Pack May Vary)

Honestly at this point I must say that you really should just be buying the Costco or Amazon 200 count. You literally never have to buy trash bags again.3

When you start looking into name brand trash bags things get dark.

Sunshine Lemon, something very disturbing is happening here. Firstly Sunshine Lemon what a fuck ass scent name. Also you don’t want citrus smelling trash it all fuses together and it smells like old stinky Chinese food — can I say that?

The smell of my normal slightly odorous trash, now infused with Sunshine Lemon, turns into literal mustard gas, an ungodly creation engineered by the team of maniacal labcoat mice from Febreze.

What makes this all worse is the fact that Glad made a partnership with Febreze. To sell these, using both brands brand recognition. So now you got a jackass looking for trash bags to buy and goes “oooo with Febreze? I love Febreze!”

4 Gallon Trash Bags 75 Count- Drawstring small trash Bags 1.1mil Thick for Bathroom, Kitchen, Bedroom, Office Toilet Home (White-pink, 75Counts)

The biggest things I learned in the past year, is that you deserve a real bathroom trash bag. I feel ashamed to admit and I hope that my coming out encourages others to do the same, or at least reckon with their own shame, but you cannot be using grocery bags as your bathroom trash bag anymore not in the big ‘26. That’s some shit you’d do to a dog. Don’t do that to yourself. Do better. 75 count $8 bucks all day.

Hefty Ultra Strong 13 Gallon Trash Bags, Tall Kitchen Trash Bags 13 Gallon Size, Resist Leaks, Punctures, and Rips, Continuous Odor Control, White, Fabuloso Lavender Scent, 80 Bags

For a second I thought Hefty and Glad were owned by the same parent company because Hefty did the same move as Glad teaming up with scent powerhouse to help scent their trash bags. Glad x Febreze , Hefty x Fabuloso.

The fact Hefty is paired with Latino — predominantly Mexican — cleaning product Fabuloso feels offensive, not in like any real way but something about it comes off as odd, more odd then Glad and Febreeze. Like Hefty is for Latinos and Glad is for white blue eyes. Kind of like Lowes and Home Depot, Sams Club and Costco, and so on.

Hrmmm I’m stepping into a lot of racial undertones here. Unfortunately I do not currently have the finesse to tactfully navigate this subject in a constructive way, so I’ll leave it for you to decide.

AMAZON GROCERY WAREHOUSE

Every time you go to check out on Amazon they try to push their Groceries on you. I have never ordered groceries off Amazon but they are wearing me down, it’s only a few months before I place my first online grocery order. As of right now it has piqued my interest, purely in a theoretical way, because it is not hard to imagine a few years down the line where ordering your groceries online is considered the norm.

To order groceries online how convenient, what a world! Soon I will never have to stare blankly at a wall of pasta wondering which pasta I need. I’ll never have to squeeze a fruit again to feel how ripe it is. No longer will I have to make awkward maneuvers while I try to squeeze past the old decrepit lady who selfishly decided to block the whole isle while she stares at the loaves of bread. Soon I’ll forget why I ever felt an allegiance to physically buying my food. I walk less, I talk less, with all this convenient free time I’ll make a chicken sweet potato quinoa salad without ever needing to leave my house. Life will be good.

Soon I will be bedridden. My legs no longer function, though I can see them clear as day, but for some reason the stubborn things just won’t move. The small window in my cell illuminates around the border as the sun tries to sneak peaks of me through the window. I’ll look at 10 different cheese stick brands in a matter of seconds. Slowly building my cart throughout the day. I’ll roll into the bathroom and notice that I’m out of toilet paper and shampoo. Add it to the list. Soon my cart is so massive, soon I feel happy and satisfied with my “shopping”. I have prime so it delivers to me same day. I’ll pay extra to have the food delivered into my fridge.

GOODBYE

I am a pitiful and selfish creature.

none of this is actually about garbage bags or which one is the best to get — Though I do strongly believe that you should get either the 200 count from Costco or Amazon seeing as they are the more financially sound decision.

If I can conjure up imaginary racial tensions between Glad and Hefty, I’ll be saved. If I can lightheartedly discuss the encroaching isolation that is being forced upon us through convenience and good prices, I can seem more educated. If I can just find something to talk about, then maybe I’m not as fucked as I think I am. But what kind of person thinks about this drivel? Then Imagine. that very same person, believing that others should read their edited regurgitated thoughts. Suddenly I am more depressed than I was before. Thinking about the Best Trash Bags to Buy in 2026.

OKAY GOODBYE

It’s nice out and I’m ever so slightly buzzed off a 4% lime seltzer. please don’t listen to anything I say. please forgive me for I have sinned.

CONSUMER REPORT 4 EVER NEVER STOP 🧡🛜🪽

I am losing my mind. Stay hot, fun, and sexy. 🧡🛜

I have done the impossible I have successfully placed an order for a dish drying mat and a bathmat. Every time in the past when I would try to order these I would ultimately get caught up in Amazon's endless scroll and find myself with 20 tabs opens each to compare all the different sorts of products that are only slightly different from each of there other counterparts.

What’s really funny is that the dish dry mat that I ordered was the first mat I saw when I tried to order these things last month, I originally didn’t order it because it’s a 18x16 mat which is a bit awkward because it shoots a bit too far away from the sink into the kitchen “island” which I believe I would find offensive — which I am still worried about that because a 16x14 mat would actually be the perfect size but I could not find a reasonable product in that size aside from just random drying cloths which isn’t that much all different from what I have right now. So the 18x16 mat will hopefully be unobtrusive to the cooking area which I don’t think it will be if not something that I find slightly annoying when I pay too much attention to it.

The bath mat is the one that matters even less because right now there is a wooden slotted board in place of the bath mat that is quite frankly horrendous. When I stand on it I get itchy feet and it feels very uncomfortable, on top of it being uncomfortable it feels really bad to get out of the shower sopping wet and stand on wood that doesn’t really fucking do anything then if I just got out of the shower and stood on the floor because all the water is just soaking up underneath the wood so arguably having this wood alone is a worse option than having nothing because the water pools up and gets all gunky underneath the boards and is what I can only assume a breeding ground for bacteria and disease. So in addition to the dish dry mat I purchased a bath mat and I went for the cheapest thing that fit the dimensions I needed which was around 16x26 which the plan is to but the mat on top of the wooden slotted board thus fusing them together for what I can only assume will be the most comfortable experience ever since the bath mat will be elevated off the floor so it can dry a bit faster on it’s own and will soak up all my shower water. One concern is how often I will need to wash that mat but we will cross that when we get there.

The more exciting thing is that I ordered those in less than 5 minutes it was a stroke of genius on my part, to be able to get in and out of Amazon that quickly is nothing short of amazing for someone like me who easily ends up “shopping” for an hour or two and within that time I slowly make myself feel more and more insane to where I ruin my whole day because I’m so upset with myself for wasting all that time and not buying anything. So I am actually quite happy with that even if I end up hating these two mats at least right now I can feel slightly accomplished for ordering two things on amazon. Isn’t that kind of sick and twisted that I actually feel kinda good about myself for ordering shit on Amazon.

Oh I also ordered Draino lets fricking go.

Well I’m going to get hella stoned and maybe enjoy a nice sunset walk have a goodnight my beloved readers who are still with me!

CONSUMER REPORT 4EVER 🛜🧡💳

I am losing my mind. Stay hot, fun, and sexy. 🧡🛜

I really shouldn’t be going out, I have almost entirely fused into a hermit, and I like being hermit mode it’s nice my cortisol rarely spikes and I have everything I want in my shell what more could I need. But I wanted to see Dawson because I haven’t seen him properly in months and this place was in walking distance so I figured I should.

I was playing Diablo 2 in the midst of playing Diablo 2 I realized that wait I talked about Diablo 2 a few months ago. Suddenly Diablo 2 wasn’t fun and felt more like I was trying to avoid going out by saying oh well I’m already locked into Diablo 2. But I’m not gonna lie that game is mad vibey I picked it up again this week and instead this time I’m a fire druid and I melt areas. Seeing the epic drops brings me small joy.

Anyways thats how I ended up at this godforsakenhellonearth

PREFACE

This shit isn’t good and I’m not sure how much I mean, what I first wrote down was incredibly mean and nasty and edited it down to be a lot less mean because when I think about it it’s like oh these people are just trying to show off their own art and if I think it’s all a stinky piece of shit that shouldn’t discredit them from making “art”

Holy Water

30 white young adults crammed into a small coffee shop room.

Leather, denim, baggy pants, doc Martens, flat brimmed hats, accents, ornery jewelry, pompous conversations, charcuterie boards, peaky blinders, film photography, Ivy League, film photography, pixie cuts, white people, stares, overlapping voices all fusing into one big massive pile of shit that attacks my stoned mind.

Dawson and white girl are playing Nerts — I first learned about Nerts through friend Roman, but I haven’t played in a year or so — this was the only saving grace of this hell hole, a beacon of light in a dark and soulless place.

I’m offered to play Nerts with white girl, I’m not sure what happened, if I wanted to prove something to myself, to white girl, to Dawson, or to the people of this coffee shop art show pop up but I absolutely smoke tf out of her like 40 to 20. This was the highlight of my night, I think my and white girl could have been friends given differentt circumstance cause when I think about it that’s pretty cool to bring card game to this hell hole. With the spirit of Nerts in my soul I’m able to brave this toxic white people art show.

I’m happy to report that all the art was just plain awful. I’ll go down a list from best to worst.

TV Bansky video slop -

This one was offensive. Seeing people take photos with the “artist” was embarrassing. It's people like this that remind me that bullying is inherently good. The fucking slop this guy presented is downright heinous, and I think he should be embarrassed about his own creative process.

A 240p YouTube beach video screen grab, playing on a 50inch Samsung.

To make it all worse he’s friends with some Ivy League guy who is talking about how much he hates his luxury interior design job that he’s only doing because his grandpa offered him a job and he’s waiting for him to die so he can inherit the business and do something else. Meanwhile I’m thinking of friend Jordan who told us earlier this week that she made it through THREE interviews to be an interior design consultant and is nervous about the FOURTH interview coming up next week.

But the funniest thing was seeing him load it up back in the original Samsung 50 inch tv case.

Film photography -

Idk like 5 people had some fuck ass photography.

Moon cycle -

idk it looked like this but 10 times worse 9 crudely drawn photos showing the cycles of a moon with a harsh light lit directly on it to add some stupid ambience vibe to it but all it did was blind everyone who walked past the “exhibit” to throw their plastic cup away.

Red spinning pencil robot arm -

It was a red pencil spinning on a little motor slapping a page.

The girl who did it was dating the Ivy League guy I mentioned above, I think that is good enough to discredit her from having any artistic expression. Cause it’s one thing to be said miserable Ivy League guy but to actually date him ew. Cause I sure as shit would never vibe with him and or someone who chooses to fuck him and it instantly shows what kind of person you are because you are willing to be fucked by guy like that. probably because he is nepo baby Idk. but it’s actually very important and I’m glad I was told that piece of information because it changed the dynamic drastically and is actually really funny.

The more I think about this the more annoyed I get.

And she talked French with this guy dressed up like peaky blinders. Jesus Christ.

Painting -

There actually a painting I really liked, I liked it so much I actually remembered the name. Your Grandfather as Liminal Space. I like it so much that I looked up their instagram to see if I could find the painting because I didn’t take a picture of it.

The thing is I loosely know Julian — who painted this — but not enough to go up and say anything to them. So I didn’t. But it’s still a nice painting and it looks epic IRL. It’s like 5x5 feet it’s pretty sweet. It felt like the only true expression of art at this place.

WOOF

Anyways this “art show” really sucked and the owner bumped into me and didn’t apologize or acknowledge it so tbh fuck him and Holy Water. And this art shit sucked but like ig it’s chill that mfers are setting this up and stepping out I bet I would have had a lot more fun if I just went there with like 4 drinks in me.

I don’t really mean this to be harsh or anything but it truly was awful and seeing the way people acted with one another was truly draining. I’m not meant to go to things like this, I for sure don’t belong. but it’s fun to go out and stare. and at the very least it gave me some slop to write about on this Sunday. Which I wonder what I would put up on that wall and if I could disconnect from myself and walk in and see my own “exhibit” if I would fuck with it. But I know for sure I’d fuck with whatever I do typeshit

On a lighter note

I have done absolutely nothing today I ate 3 English muffins I’ve had 2 yakults 6 oz of orange juice took a midday nap with the sun shining through the window I don’t really want to go outside but I think I’ll go outside

CONSUMER REPORT 4EVER FUCK U 🛜🧡💳

Oh I’m driving to St. George to watch Angel fight. I’m with Abel (driving) Juan (passenger) me (window) Alex (middle) Soap (window)

These guys like listening to music way too loud i hate it but what i hate more is being that guy who asks to lower the music so i sit here in the car berated by the loud music and it’s almost more upsetting that people actually like listening to music this loud it makes me feel like I’m the one who is functionally wrong. I really hate how often people self diagnose autism but I bet I got some sort of sound autism or some shit

I HATE asking to stop to go pee while driving. Why am I as a grown man asking another man to stop at a pit stop so I can go pee. It’s not right. I usually just wait for someone else to ask, which I’m always happy when we finally stop for a gas station stop

I’m not sure what to expect but I’m lowkey excited to see some irl fighting I lowkey get the bloodlust when I watch mfs fight.

oh my god

BEST GAS STATION DVER

Heated bidets like it was so chill and the stall felt like my own private room love this place

Jets are cool I love JetTok and getting JetPilled

this shit looks so epic and it sounds crazy it’s like THWEEeeee very epic shout out the Swedes!! I guess jet heads hate this one tho

This is like the American jet and people love it imo it looks stupid and ugly

Both of these cost like $100 million and thats rather upsetting to think about

Zionspark

This is actually my first time here and I hate to say but it’s ight I’d rather watch JetTok than go to zions park Hrmm interesting thought

Hrmmmm

You know when I first wrote I was just so in that zone. Then it got deleted. FAHHHH so then I’m like okay whatever lemme try this again so I sorta get back in the zone for the second time then we get back from Zion park and FAHHHH my shits deleted again.

So with this third time to try and write about it I am depleted of all my whimsy and charm to where this is me throwing in the towel. When I was first writing I was like oooh posting sounds fun then it got deleted twice but now i think I’m too stuck on the fact about writing.

Well I’m only writing because I’m driving all day so I’m like okay this sounds like a chill way to combat the EXTRMELY LOUD MUSIC which honestly it has because it’s more or less background noise but I am going crazy I’ve been in the car since 8 and it’s almost 6 anyways I guess I feel somewhat obligated to post almost forced because the idea has entered my head. The issue is i have ran out of things to say aside from rehashing the same things I’ve said but only I’m saying them in a much less enthusiastic and charming way.

To where I’m honestly shocked if anyone has made it this far into reading because I don’t really have anything to say aside from not wanting to write.

But maybe

Well I was trying to convince myself that this is exactly the moment to write because it’s when we don’t wanna do stuff that it matters most to do it but nah I’m just bummed they deleted my shit 😭😭

in fear of having this one deleted I simply must post it but I wish I had something interesting to say

Why would anyone eat this they cannot be trusted

I saw this movie with like 12 people and when we left the theater everyone said they liked it, which is exactly what I was expecting cause this is a movie made for oafs and brutes who don’t want to think, this movie thrives in our current culture. This movie was made for Fortnite. As far as I’m concerned it’s Fortnite.

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Let’s talk about the characters

CHARACTERS

FARTY SUPREME -

Annoying, entitled, and self-centered with only a pinch of charm. You don’t have to like the protagonist of a movie but when the whole movie is just him just treating people like shit. Like he steam rolls everyone and has zero respect for nearly anyone except maybe his ping pong mentor. Every choice he makes is to get one step closer to achieving his ping pong dreams. While having far too much pride to bend or break for anything else.

Until everything goes wrong and fast forward the end of the movie he gets spanked in the ass to get an exhibition match and he decides he won’t throw the games begs for a rematch and keeps his baby and becomes a family man.

See the problem is for the entire movie he is self destructive just end the movie with him still being a piece of shit there shouldn’t be any redemption or make him reach his real goals by being so shitty.

People apparently love this movie because he is so ambitious and dedicated. But at the end of the movie his dream changes from being the face of ping pong all over the world to just beating a Japanese guy.

This is nothing like the Marty is written so well and he’s acting so good that I hate his character. It’s that Marty is one dimensional and flat and when IT REALLY MATTERS when the movie can truly show us how awful and unlikeable Marty is they make him make the “right” choice. total fuckass

RACHEL MIZLER -

Oh my god horrendous character. She is legit just on screen to get abused. Legit that’s her whole thing. She’s either getting yelled at by her Husband or she’s being abandoned by Marty.

Like me trying to talk more about her would be pointless but let me attempt to even decode what the fuck her actual point of being in this movie was.

A lighting rod just to show us the viewers how evil Marty could be. Oh wow he ditched his pregnant mistress to go play ping pong ooooh he’s do bad. Marty just keeps using her over and over again at his leisure.

It’s like pretty much she is distilled to hysterical pregnant chick who is obsessed with Marty. And it’s like them keeping the baby at the end doesn’t mean anything this isn’t love. It’s just Marty’s fucked and is doing the “morally right” thing by sticking with the broad he knocked up. It isn’t romantic it’s just fuck I’m stuck now but I’m doing the right thing.

She’s lowkey the worst character of the movie she does nothing. She gets knocked up and is just like the annoying pregnant girl who won’t leave you alone.

KAY STONE -

She’s an old movie actress married to or dating?? a millionaire. Apparently she is supposed to be 60 years old but she looks late 40s at best. Horrible awful character. She has one role and that’s to be Marty fuck buddy. Who adds to how horrible Rachel is being treated.

It’s like they wrote Kay Stone to be like the sexy mature smart lady who sees through Marty but she falls for it like everyone else. Like she does nothing. She’s an excuse to showcase that Marty can fuck old and young woman alike. She’s pointless. She just falls for Marty’s extravagant flirting over and over again.

They have one scene where she gives Marty a $2,500 necklace and Marty eats her out in the middle of a park. Like she is reduced to mindless sex slave. But it’s not even reduced because she was never anything other than that.

She has the broadway play sub-plot that is only meant to reduce her even further. The is received poorly and the last we see of her is sobbing in her room after she reads the reviews. That’s it.

BOOM shitty character number 3

MILTON ROCKWELL-

Lowkey he’s probably the best character. He’s dating Kay Stone and is filthy rich from selling pens or something. I guess he would be the antagonist??? He holds all the power over Marty essentially.

I probably just like him because he’s finally someone who can’t get screwed over by Marty. Who cares if Marty is banging his gf at least he ain’t falling for his cons. And like he even gives Marty the chance to achieve his dreams but Marty’s like nah I got in on my lonely. Then Marty begs him for a second chance and he spanks him.

Ultimately though his character really goes no where. Like his climatic scene was just to spank Marty with a ping pong paddle and fly him to Japan.

idk Milton Rockwell kinda a vibe I hope to see a tiktok edit of him in the coming weeks.

TYLER THE CREATOR -

He feels like the real comedic relief and honestly if the movie was just him and Marty hanging out it would be way better than whatever this was. They had great chemistry together and I think there’s enough star power there to just be like yeah I’m locked in.

Give me a Tyler the Creator Timmy C stoner movie and it’ll do fucking numbers I swear to god. EVERYONE will go watch it.

I honestly can’t remember this character all he really does is give Marty money and they hustle a couple people at a bowling alley. It’s not even an epic hustle. It’s just like okay I guess that happened. Of course they get ran up on and narrowly escape. If anything he’s just here to show that even people who Marty considers close friends will still be screwed over.

EZRA MISHKIN -

Bro idk

Some random old man who gets a tub dropped on him and asks for help and has a shit load of cash in a duffel bag.

This starts this whole nonsensical plot line. Cause really Marty should have just taken the bag and promise the guy he will pay him back after he becomes the face of Ping Pong and only then should they reveal that this guy gots mob ties and he shouldn’t have fucked with him.

Of course it ends with him getting blasted in the chest by a shotgun why would it end any other way.

This dog plot line that goes on for way too long. Don’t get me wrong it’s fun ig but it feels out of place and just an excuse to crank up the violence.

Like okay we have lots of money, we have guy who bangs alot, we even have explosions, now we need guns and knives. Like it feels like filler bro I swear to god they could have scrapped this whole story line and the movie would have been better. It’s not even that it’s bad but it just doesn’t fit the pacing and it’s a way for them to use Rachel Mizler more because she hasn’t done fuck all in the movie so they pawn her the task of finding the dog and stirring up the trouble. Because of course dumb stupid pregnant broad would get caught up in the mess that now Marty has to clean. As an attempt to paint him as a hero of sorts.

God this shit is pissing me off the more I write about it.

IRA MIZLER -

This is the seemingly abusive husband of Rachel Mizler. I argue this is the realest character in the movie he is painted to be big stupid dumb abusive husband.

He just found out Marty has been sleeping with Rachel and instead of fighting him he runs out and gets the police instead.

Tbh for the sake of the movie why tf did they not add a fight scene right here, it’s all that was missing from making this a action-comedy-drama-1950s epic 😭

Marty just told Rachel to go home because he doesn’t want his kid. Rachel tells Ira. Ira respectfully crashes the fuck out. But still he doesn’t hit her. He just throws shit around the house freaks out and wakes up all the neighbors but he walks out and leaves.

And that’s it that’s all his character does lmao. I think I just like that they allude to him being abusive but he never is. The worst is he throws some shit around.

KOTO ENDO -

any good sports movie has a montage of the bad guy training and getting better think Rocky 4 when Ivan Drago and rocky train. Where tf was that??? Endo Martys rival is nothing he is no one there is no lore no anything maybe a half minute scene telling us he’s deaf and that’s how he’s so good.

They really shoulda done something more especially with this nearly being 3 hours long they could have spent just a few minutes building him up more. Whatever they gave us wasn’t enough.

Overall -

Overall no one is likable. not one single character has any redeeming qualities so I’m spending 2 and a half hours with miserable shitty characters oh brother. The story doesn’t even matter because the lack of progression from all the characters who cares about the story.

SOUNDTRACK

I know it’s Safdie bros MO to use lots of fluttery textured music to accompany scenes so I won’t come after all the flutes and whatnots that are there to evoke a certain emotion out of us. I do think it’s a bit cheap.

There’s something much more amazing when you can feel a certain way without music telling you how to feel yafeelme? Stick with me now.

Someone dies on screen. They can make you feel sad about that death using cinematography, story, and acting. It doesn’t need to be cheapened by layering some sad music over it.

Someone dies on screen. And they plaster sad music over it to make you sad it feels a bit cheap like some sort of carnival trick yaknow?

I know I sound a bit crazy but I really do believe it that you don’t need music to accompany every emotion which is exactly what this movie does.

That aside there are some original tracks done by Oneohtrix Point Never that sound just as lovely as they did in their predecessor Uncut Gems. But there are a handful that come off as a generic 80s synth heavy tracks that just don’t do it for me.

WAAAY TOO much licensed music

It reminded me of the Super Mario movie which was also littered with obnoxious licensed music.

STORY

I can’t talk about this much longer cause I’m going to go crazy but the most offensive thing is how they change Marty right at the end. for the first half of this movie his dream is to show the world he is the best in the world and have his face plastered all over america as ping pongs golden boy. Becoming filthy rich in the process.

Only at the end of the movie he realizes he can’t compete in the National tournament so now all he wants to do is beat Endo the Japanese ping pong champ. He wins and goes back home to raise the kid that he didn’t want. HE GAVE UP his dreams and goes home.

That’s how the movie ends.

I legit just saw a tiktok of Timmy C being interviewed saying that this movie is about never ever giving up on your dreams. but they make Marty give up his dreams at the end wtf.

JEW JOKES

Oh yeah they had maybe 3-5 jew jokes in here. None of them were particularly funny but I just found it interesting.

It’s like shocking things come into trend and become normalized like retard has become increasingly acceptable to where people don’t really bat an eye. So it’s more so just interesting to see how Jew jokes are on the big screen.

I’ve been saying it for awhile but soon Jew jokes will become accepted and a new minority will have to be found. Doesn’t really say much about the movie. well I guess they did try to get a bit political or ig historical since Japan is recovering after WW2 and Martys mentor talks about defusing bombs in concentration camps. But they tried to use it as like a emotional device??

I think they just added these parts in to add into the the “epic” of Marty Supreme. Like every epic needs to have some historical piece in it.

While we are on the subject the end of the movie has this bizarre scene. Of white men laughing and smiling over a sea of sad crying Japanese people. It felt weird. Like it was offensive somehow, but I’m not sure I’d need to watch that scene again, eh.

BETRAYAL (THIS IS IMPORTANT)

You know I’m fine with watching an okay movie. But what really cuts deep is that Nakita liked this movie. The one guy who I thought would be in my corner, likes this movie. He said 8 out of 10!

I’m totally flabbergasted that he could like this movie. But then I think about it a little, and it all makes sense.

Nakita is a big Knicks fan. Timmy C is a Knicks fan. Marty Supreme collab’d with the Knicks. Nakita has to like this. Not liking this means he doesn’t like the Knicks. I know for a fact Nakita has the Tyler the Creator skin on Fortnite, this just gives him more incentive to like the movie. Nakita is also a big Wes Anderson fan.

How does Tyler the Creator, Marty Supreme, Knicks, and Fortnite all tie together?

The Nakita I know is a hater who would never like something like this but you build up Marty Supreme to be something grander than a movie and you are almost forced to like it, liking it signals you are vibey, that you can play the role that people recognize perhaps Nakita is sick of being a hater and this a great stance to take to say this fuckass movie is an 8/10 we all know 8/10 is the new 5/10. It’s just easier to say you like it. Because saying you don’t like it is to go against the Knicks, Tyler, and Fortnite. Do you really wanna do that or do you just wanna say the movie was good and move on. I still think something is fishy here I can’t accept that Nakita likes this movie.

Any other braindead buffoon I can accept and quite frankly makes sense but when Nakita likes it something is wrong. Our culture is shifting only for the worse.

LEMME WRAP THIS UP

This really isn’t about the movie at all, it’s not about writing decisions or anyones acting or anything. It’s how a movie that didn’t move me in anyway, how a movie so shallow and morally confused can release pre-approved by everyone.

Timmy C, Tyler the Creator, A24, Safdie liking this movie feels mandatory, saying anything negative about it is antisocial. The fan base will laugh and shun anything that doesn’t agree with their beliefs. Why would they do anything but that? Explaining your dislike for the movie requires effort and nuance. Liking the movie puts you in the majority it’s an autopilot reaction where you don’t even have to think of. No one is going to scrutinize you for liking it.

It’s like I’m the last Jew fighting against a horde of Nazis in Auschwitz Germany.

CONSUMER REPORT 4 EVER 🛜⏱️💳

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you don’t need to go far to find anything special it was right beside you all along you stare blankly at a lamp it seems to be warbling coming in and out of focus in half second increments you are entirely fascinated by it you notice the ridges on the glass and how they are textured in such a way that you could only imagine feels nice when you rub your fingers on it youd like to think that whoever made this ran there fingers on it Hector has been talking to you for almost 50 minutes now his voices blends in with the light you slowly absorb it through your skin overwhelmed with everything all at once it all feels so much there is so fucking much it is absolutely insane everyday every single person is walking a tightrope doing their best to stay balanced some have mastered the art so well they don’t even notice the tight rope they don’t notice their friends voice blending in with the light to where they are unsure of what came first and what comes after the tightrope is slowly encroaching onto everything the fridge humming for years never-ending the fridge is blind to it’s own balancing act

The ceramic plate stares back at you the teddy bear stays motionless but the pink and blue pastel colored chevrons dance and twinkle about the bordering teddies bear all beautiful in their own way the air purifier humming endlessly blind to the balancing act it does every single day making sure that it hums the exact same way that it has always hummed you notice the hum you notice the bear you notice the car in the distance driving up B street foot on the gas to climb up the hill because it’s late as fuck and who cares if I zoom down this street empty intersections dazzling lights hundreds of homes fuck them all who gives a shit the ceramic bear plate is doing it’s thing you burnt your fricking bagel it’s too bright you turn off all the lights you smell things you have never smelt before you finally taste for the first time in your life but this is much different than I or you will have ever known I need you to stick with me because we are so close to understanding something truly spectacular but I need you to really stick with me here, please, it’s really important, I am so close to distilling actual meaning from nothingness, it’s a delicate act, unspooling the most delicate thread pull to tight and it snaps, please, stay with me, you don’t need to go far to find something meaningful. You stare into a constellation of crumbs a topography of burnt black marks raise to the heavens burning stars reaching for nothing but who gives a fuck craters that would be best filled with globs of honey you reach for the bear shaped bottle to pour bear snack goo onto your bear ceramic plate you wish you were wearing your bear shaped hat its tastes really fucking good a plain bagel you bought from smiths with a 2 for 1 deal it was $5.29 you only remember because it’s the first thing you rung up and you thought to yourself $5.29 for bagels what the fuck

CONSUMER REPORT 4 EVER 🧡

I heated up some stew I made. 3 potatoes, 1 pound of green split peas and half a turkey sausage seasoned with whatever I could find in the cupboard. It has successfully fed me for 3 days now today being the last day of it feeding me, it has done a good job at doing what it’s supposed to do and in all honesty it’s exactly what I needed every night. Thank you Split Pea Stew.

Before I continue writing I will in real time take 2 shots back to back as I’m alone in the apartment. Something about drinking alone to me is very freeing maybe cause it feels a bit taboo like one of those things you know you shouldn’t be doing, because usually when you hear someone drinking alone your first thought is to assume they are depressed, though I am unsure if I am afflicted by such things I choose to believe that I am above the depressive man drinking alone at home at 5PM on a Tuesday, me drinking alone is an absolute triumph, I have transcended any chance of being a sad depressed man because I have activity as long as you have activity surely you aren’t anywhere near being depressed because a depressed person would just do nothing. We don’t do that here. Now, If you’ll excuse me I have a bottle of Tequila I must open.

Organzing clothes

Holy shit tequila hurts I took 2 shots back to back and chased with water. It sounds very ratchet, and it is, but that only adds to the absolute vibeyness of drinking alone.

While I was heating up the stew I mentioned earlier I had the absolute brain blast to clean up everything while stew heats up and cools down. This was easily the best decision I made all day - arguably all week. I finally put away all the clothes that have been lying around - oh my god I feel lit - I thought oh I’ll tidy up every drawer so I threw out all the clothes from every drawer laid them on the bed and I started watching reels ontop of all the clothes I have just taken out.

What the fuck is wrong with me lmao who does this shit it’s like I thought to myself ah yes I have completed 1/4 of my mission why don’t I reward myself with a little brain rot ah yes. Luckily I snapped out and narrowly escaped the clutches of me evil slaver. I broke free from the digital shackles and started to organize my drawers. If you’re interested in how I organize you are in luck.

bottom drawer - pants

4th drawer - gym clothes and PJs

3rd drawer - socks and undies with T-Shirts, this is the most problematic drawer it gets crammed way to fast and I have to wrestle with it nearly every time I open it. I have been saying I should thin out my shirts but you know how that goes. I hate the stupid fucking white socks I have that look like shit because they are stained like crazy and the fit on them is awful I stole them all from an old job so they really need to be deaded perhaps I’ll order myself new socks but I have been saying this for months but maybe today I really do do it.

2nd drawers - we don’t look in this one

1st drawer - This is mainly for nice long sleeves that you don’t want to hang up because it will compromise the integrity of the garment so you fold them to ensure they live a nice happy life.

We successfully organized the bottom 3 drawers a major win. Everything is neat and tidy and I expect it to stay that way for at least 3-4 days until I stop giving a fuck and let it all go into disarray - holy fuck I’m feeling those shots - and let the cycle continue as it does.

I go to check on my stew and oops I didn’t really turn on the heat that high so it’s lukewarm at best, not to fret we turn up the heat and find next chore to do.

Washing clothes

After putting all the clothes away I thought oh frick I really should do a load of laundry. So I walk down the 67 steps and get the first load in. Arguably I bet I really do bet I could have done it all in one load but I have had too many traumatic experiences of doing a big load of laundry and it takes hours to dry to where I have taught myself to separate my loads - Loads is a funny word I always think of load is in a big cum load. Isn’t it epic to cum a big load of cum. Who wants a tiny drippy load of cum that is so not epic. imagine this you’re going at it with whoever and they tell you to cum on them now would you rather have a sad little tiny load of cum or a big fat gushing geyser load of cum hrmmm - so I had one small load - lmao - and one medium load. As a matter of fact they are still going as we speak and I really hate the fact that I have to go back down at least 2 more times thats 268 steps I have to go up and down in total. Right now the first load ie the small load is in the dryer which I bet it’s done but the medium load is in the wash which I would HATE MYSELf if I walked down and the wash wasn’t done. The worst part is I’m going to have to fold those clothes and put them away in the drawers I was talking about above. And I can ASSURE you that there is not enough space in them to fit a small and medium load - lol - so I’m going to have to do more rearranging. But I did the damn thing I am and did wash my clothes wahoo.

Now an astute reader is probably wondering how does this line up with my stew heating up and cooling down.

So I put the first load in when I just turned the heat up. I’ll mention when I started to dry it later.

Sweeping

it is now 5:37PM I am really feeling this liquor but y’know what I’m thinking?

The clothes are really probably done by now. I should go check on them but I don’t want to. It’s stupid y’know because the right move to make right now is going down and changing the clothes - there are 2 shirts that I shouldn’t dry because they are wool and cotton this is more of a reminder for myself in my drunken stupor - and you know what I’ve been on a roll of good decisions and in an attempt to prove to myself that getting drunk alone is vibey I’m going to stay on top of my chores that I started.

I even put away most of them major W

So after Organizing drawers and washing clothes the stew was now hot enough but next came letting it cool down. This is critical mfers will try to eat food while it’s too hot and they hardly can enjoy it cause they are too busy trying to make sure they don’t burn their tongue we don’t do that hear we must ensure food reaches a consumable temperature.

So I start to sweep. This is one of the most ancient things we can do mfers have been sweeping in the fucking stone ages so when I get to sweep I get to reconnect with some ancient threaded DNA yafeel.

I am reduced to nothing a single piece of debris swept up with a pile of other miscellaneous trash that has found its way on the floor. Reaching ever closer to me I know my time is certainly up to where I will be swept up with the other trash conglomerating with the pile of shit before me, cat hair, kitty litter, Trader Joe Taki crumbs, gold fish flavor blasted flakes, outside dirt that has somehow found it’s way to the third floor, oats that have escaped their fate of turning into gooey paste inside the oats cage, dust that came from god knows where, potential black mold flakes that I have only started thinking about because instagram is trying to make me paranoid that I’m living in black mold and that it’s the root of all evil.

I lost where I was going but the point is I swept the whole floor I wish I had a sqft that I could reference but perhaps I’ll make one up to make this seem a bit more present.

I swept the 1200 sqft apartment - I’m not sure if that’s big or small - and I swept up all the kitty litter that has found it’s way outside the kitty litter area only to look inside the kitty litter boxes or tubs in horror…. I haven’t cleaned the fucking kitties shitting/pissing grounds I am the worst kitty cat dad ever. I simply must clean them immediately.

The stew is still piping hot.

Dishes

We will get to the kitty litter in a second since I’m trying to time everything right I clean the dishes. The dishes are the one thing I seem to always stay ontop of, aside form putting them away. So I put all the dishes away and I clean the 4 dishes in the sink.

The pot which I just heated up the stew in, the plate that I had a half a bagel with honey before the gym and the tiny spoon which I ate ice cream with the night before.

the stew is still just as hot as it was before but it’s almost there .

Kitty Litter

Now cleaning the kitty litter is actually quite a complex task when considering the fact that I have stew cooling down and clothes in the wash.

I don’t feel comfortable throwing the kitty litter in the trash, this is outside trash it simply must be put outside how disgusting would it be to know I have kitty piss n shit in the main trash sitting there festering away for days until main trash is taken out no we in fact do not roll that way kitty shit must be disposed of outside.

This was interesting I like to double bag the kitty shits the first bag I grabbed was alone the second bag I grabbed was already double bagged - I’m grabbing Smiths grocery store plastic bags btw - but instead of using the already double bagged bags I instead separated the double bag and added it to the original first bag I had. I thought that was very important. The first bag I grabbed for was destined to transport kitty poops n pees outside if I were to put them away and only use the already double bagged bags I would have been changing the fate of the first bag and I am not in the business of changing ANYONES fate bag or not. So I bagged the first bag double up. The double up is to ensure there is little to no chance of litter escaping and spreading on the floor. in the off chance that there are multiple holes in each bag I’d like to assume that the in discrepancies are different enough to where the litter has no chance to escape. With the double bagged smiths bags in hand I went to work.

I would like to veer off into my emotional state that I was in when I was cleaning said kitty litter.

I have really let myself go the past couple of days. Wifey has been away and I have been on a downward spiral of sorts nothing really serious but in a eh I’ll do shit later just pushing everything back like going to the gym and making the bed n shit like that. but something about seeing the kitty litter boxes not being cleaned had me like oh shit twin we gotta lock tf in.

I REALLY WANT TO MAKE SURE YOU KNOW that the kitty litter boxes were not gross at all but to me it was unacceptable. I’m sure my unacceptableness is the norm for most people. Actually I’m sure of it!!!! lifetime kitty owner ex would clean out her kitties litter box once or twice a week! this kitty box was cleaned last Saturday so like 3 days but still I was disappointed in myself because honestly I should be cleaning this shit out once a day! anywho it was a wake up call in a sense and I simply must thank my stew for if I didn’t make stew I wouldn’t have cleaned if I didn’t clean I wouldn’t have seen the state of kitty box and thinking about Binky and Tofu having to use the restroom in such conditions hurts my heart and soul.

I had an epiphany while doing so. Cleaning the waste is fine. The soluble kitty excrements don’t phase me in the slightest the large clumps of kitty piss must be digged out and I get to pretend I’m a sort of archaeologist when I sift the poops through the tiny shovel. It’s like I’m hunting for fossils it’s, in some sick way kinda fun. especially when you find a hidden poop underneath all the litter. The litter also releases a strong bleach smell that is kinda nice so you don’t really have to smell any sort of waste at all. So while I was digging for fossils I had this strange epiphany.

This is exactly the same as a Japanese Zen Garden. you know the ones where they use rakes and make designs and shit only for them to be blown away so you can do it all over again. That’s some glorified pompous shit but it makes sense, I’m cleaning the kitty poops and I make the litter all nice and level and even try to make a small design with the corner of the shovel so maybe the kitties can stare at it while they poop because why? For legit no reason aside from the fact that I kinda like it. the same reason an mfer is raking there garden, just cause they like it - I am so faded lmao. The point is I am a zen god because I pick up kitty poops and I rake their litter into a nice way so they can enjoy pissing and shitting in comfort these kitties deserve the best.

So I have collected 3 days waste of kitties and I need to throw the bagged poops n piss but I have all this other shit I wanted to recycle aswell so I make one whole trip and get rid of a whole bunch of shit boom epic, and since I’m already outside I go and flip the wash into the dryer and put the rest of my shit in to the wash and I am happy to report that by the end of all that our story finally reaches a close - ngl I’m kinda sobering up maybe I need another shot - I walk back upstairs and I check on my stew and it has finally reached a comfortable temperature to where I can eat it in comfort.

I sit down and I enjoy my stew, I eat it in about 6 minutes.

What did you just read

Now for anyone who has sat here and read through all this shit I suppose I should give meaning to what all this means.

Typically I don’t like to explain what shit means because I think that’s for the viewer to decide. But quite frankly people are dumb as hell, the amount of times I’ve left a movie and heard people are going to look up what it meant is proof enough. Also I think it’s a way for the creator to kinda cheat meaningness in any way or form.

Taking care of all this small shit is a way of proving to myself that I’m alive and functioning surely a depressed person wouldn’t clean up a bunch of shit and make themselves a bowl of stew stovetop. A depressed person would fs microwave it! What looks like on the outside as a jumbled mess of duties slowly turns into rituals and maintenance where meaning begins to blossom. The stew is the precursor, ah yes I’ve decided to feed myself but why stop at food why not nurture myself in more ways why not clean up all this shit that has been bugging me why not clean up for the kitties who can’t clean for themselves. I have given myself meaning through something so small. I have felt so much just be kneeling down and cleaning up kitty poops. Nothing dramatic happens because that’s just how it goes. Kitties will always poop whether you pay attention or not, what matters is someone depends on me whether I like it or not.

SO YES I CAN HAVE 4 SHOTS OF LIQUOR IF I FEEL LIKE IT

CONSUMER REPORT 4 EVER🛜🧡🪽!!!

I’m actually quite upset I haven’t posted in so long that I didn’t even make a fricking winter mascot version that cuts deep