In the RPG Call of Cthulhu, set in the 1920s as human investigators chase down and gibber at Lovecraftian monsters, they have a sanity mechanic. You start off with, from memory, a stat value x5 (creating a number from 5–100) and you typically go down from there.
Articles from Harrangue Man
One of the crap aspects of PTSD—and there are so many—is being scared by sudden, loud noises.
You'd think it a paradox but theboy got a Ninjago Lego set and as he's building it the team members that came with the set are fighting or training and making a lot of HI-YA!-style noises.They're not PTSD friendly noises so I am staying well away from that rowdy melee.Who are ninjas; I mean I know the classic ninja outfit is actually a puppeteers costume from dramas that used stagecraft with that costume to represent their stealth on stage.
In the '80s to have a volcano face, to me at least, meant severe acne.
With thanks to Tenacious D.In all the efforts to re-secure the tarp on the hutch I hadn't properly closed the side hatch and as such one of the Polish Scruffs escaped. It was a hell of a thing to corner—it can't fly but it can flap and gain about three feet and it flapped / ran into the weird water heater room at the back of the house that contains assorted gardening crap.
I have a womb-warped body with short arms and short fingers. Combining that with injury to my ability to handle objects due to PTSD it means I struggle to do basic things. We had fierce winds and lashing rain so I tried to move the cover on the chicks' hutch. Only I fucked it up and had to take it off and try and put it back on. But with my short arms, my inability to handle fine objects like small D claps meant I could not put it back on.
I was interacting with the guy manning the till and for some reason felt I needed to defend the still wearing of the bike helmet."It's not to hide that I'm bald," I happily confessed, "I just can't be arsed taking it off."Besides, if I did then with all the sweat my hair would sprout out like on a mad professor."I got home, took off the helmet then happened to see myself in a mirror.Every last strand was standing at sweaty attention; I looked like a character from Dr.
I went past a man with a recumbent bike. He was in the middle of a phone call. He looked like Booger from Revenge of the Nerds only with a bike helmet and shades. His t-shirt said "Incontinental"—either that pun name or the actual hotel chain. Either way the thing was he was standing.If you have a recumbent bike why would you stand to take or make a call? It makes no sense.