Bludgeoning Angel Dokuro-Chan = one of the greatest anime of all time, peak coquette aesthetic and the best of kink chic in all of fashion.
Once you eat the frozen orange juice concentrate out of the container it’s had to go back to actual orange juice.
It disgusts me when people want to abuse firearms because I know that they have feelings like cats, stuffed animals, plants, the wafting breeze and every pebble that rolls down a hillside.
If I go to the wrong place then people will all point and stare and say stuff like: “hey look it’s the upper crust and it’s outside of its natural habitat!”
STORY TIME:
One day in 2017 I was among two people that I was friends with aptly dubbed: Friend 1 and Friend 2.
Friend 1 mentioned some recent phenomenon he had seen referenced on the blogosphere called “woke.” The sheer mentioning of this vaguely defined internet concept seemed to incite nervousness and anxiety in Friend 2 who was the oldest, wisest and like a chief and mentor to me and the other one (think stereotypical white man in his 30s, i.e. from Colorado Springs, professional CEO type of person, frequents farmers markets, supports local businesses).
Friend 1 said something along the lines of: “Yeah I know that everything is normal right now but pretty soon…. ‘woke’.” This in turn caused Friend 2 to nervously retort by saying: “I don’t know why you think that’s ok but I know it’s all bad.” I asked Friend 2 what they were talking about and he said, as if he had too much coffee that morning, “it’s all bad what he’s saying, because Friend 1 just keeps saying the word ‘woke’.”
They seemed to me to be exhibiting quite a bit of irrationality and I responded by saying to them “I’m sure whatever this ‘woke’ is it won’t amount to anything and is actually just vague rubbish, if it really exists or happens, it will just fizzle out and not amount to anything. After all it just seems like one of those vague ‘internet words’.”
Even though I am known to never boast of rationality or logic like other men and claim instead to be an emotional creature who is in touch with his feelings I was back then so calm in the face of darkness and calm in the face of The Abyss that I was more easily described as a freezing cold and frosty ice glacier that kept his cool in spite of literally anything and back then I knew not what it meant to ever feel fear.
I understood that Friend 1 who had been frequently abused by many corrupt persons of authority was ready for a world of change and drastic upheaval as he had nothing to lose and was willing to embrace whatever was left on the other side of the void and friend 2 who was much wiser, more mature and more well adjusted than either of us was weary of such happenings undoing all of his hard fought victories and virtuous works he had made to help me and Friend 1 have a fighting chance at a world with little certainty and many risks.
It seems to baffle me now that I remember this conversation that me and two previous associates had all those years ago because it played out exactly like a scene in the 1978 animated film Watership Down, in particular one of the scenes where the rabbits gather together and hold counsel to debate where they will go or what they will do next.
Up All Night by Judith Stenneken
I hate the way things have changed so much and by now people literally think that I’m crazy because I don’t get ‘baked’. Why don’t you retards take all your stupid pot cigarettes and all your weird autism causing psych meds and shove them back up your stupid buttholes.
I don’t owe anyone an apology and other people need to stop being such a hateful jealous pencil dick.
I can’t believe the way I’m innocent enough to really accidentally believe other peoples motherfucking bullshit. Because it takes a fucked up jealous creep to know one and I always assume other people are just as good as me because I project onto everyone.
One thing I’m just not fucking good at is getting lied too and I know that everyone who has made things hard on me deserves to be fucking dead.
It’s painful not even getting an apology from literally anyone even though sometimes it would just mean the whole entire fucking world to me. ESPECIALLY WHEN THEY HOLD A GRUDGE ON ME FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE FOR DOING ABSOLUTELY NOTHING WRONG OR THE LITTLEST SHIT.
I was a quiet shy child. A germaphobe who reeked of sanitary hospital smells and pain. I was also fair skinned and distinctly English with a sharp jawline and light brown hair. My clothes were always the most stylish; from a vintage London Fog men’s bomber jacket to a white long sleeve turtle neck shirt from an art museum in a different city to various sweaters, jeans and beige cargo shorts. My hobbies included: shooting guns, reading poetry, raising cats, playing the grand piano of an elderly harpist and having my vitals taken by my then doctor-in-training girlfriend.
I had always suffered from a certain emotional condition caused by a hurricane in my chest.
Forgive me if my grammar is incorrect, the rules of the language change with time anyhow and I’m not exactly in the best condition right now.
The mansion in Mai Chan No Nichijou where Miss Muraki keeps her slave Kizuna Chan reeks of luxury and decadence at the same time. With potted palm trees like a paradise and high ceilings like a plantation house on the Gulf Coast. Luxury and wealth are the null of all trauma. Both a provocateur of the human spirit and the end of all suffering.