I don't tap online ads save by accident and thanks to PTSD and meds for PTSD my fingers flick open of their own accord. Or stab downwards when surfing with a tablet.Because I've tapped on that ad twice I now see it populated across other sites in addition to the site I was reading.They objectively look like nice clothes though as a potato man they'd be no good on me. They're for long slender gals.My PTSD also likes short shorts; it has eclectic taste.
Articles from Harrangue Man
In almost every tragedy there are moments of hope, that a lesson may get learned from it such as in the Pittsburgh shooting in the reaction of the community affected.Human caused tragedy oft means a counter force so strong it defies motion.
She fell off a shelf and onto the dirty floor, brushed from her perch by a passer-by. Even though bending is a hassle I bent and got her then put her back.It mattered fuck all in the scheme of things but it mattered to me that toy mermaid plushie could get wrecked and that whoever got her would be sad at the grime on her body.I pay a cost to bend; it hurts to do it. But if not me then who?That's why.
We were at a gathering when powerhouse host pointed at us and said "now none of your dungeon talk!"It was only after she said "or your dragons" when we realised she was teasing us for being D&D players for 30+ years of life; for we'd outed that we were players (still) at a previous event and she pwned us by remembering that and using it against us.I've been playing Baldurs Gate II obsessively so the first thing I said was "I'm a twenty-second level mage."I was wrong; it turned out I was a
Once you've been in the adult world a while the age differences vanish; you can be in your forties and have friends in your thirties even though at school you were just leaving as they were still in kindy.Time is unkind to us all.
That's a first for me, a strike to the belly button from a cat, and it hurt. She didn't power strike it; she lay on me and a forepaw slipped in and then she pressed down. I felt a nerve fire down and burst out through my groin.It was unpleasant. Not as unpleasant as a poke from theboy but hurty nonetheless.Cats, a threat to the BB so B.b beware.
I'd just set out to do to the bridge and back but, fuck it, kept going and did the lake. As typical I was angry and lapsed into a rant about crap. Now my knee is sore from doing too much too quickly.I got angry at being fucked before I drew breath. I read a line about nature and nurture, that genetics loads the gun and the environment pulls the trigger. In this case it was pulled in the womb and I came out broken.I didn't have a fucking chance; I was fucked before I came out.
With thanks to The Games of Thrones.I opened my laptop to look down at that sticker of the huntsman spider that I didn't remember putting there only to realise it was an actual spider that had been squished flat when I closed the monitor on it. I didn't know at the time and because of my womb-robbed fingers I can only two finger type and my finger fall is heavy I use a gaming keyboard that is plugged in because to use a
"Button to Button" by The White Stripes. You can overlay your own verses and spit them out in controlled, musical fury. Or keep to the real ones since like astrology readings they're broadly applicable to everyone—especially anyone who had a shitty childhood. The White Stripes; helping make stripes stripe since they were stripy.
Because I self harm through gouging at existing scars I at least have the benefit of an all natural approach. Which means I don't start up new locations, I just have at specific spots that exist. So I got up, I had a shower and I creamed the fuck out of the scars. I want to pick them when they are dry; the sensation is robbed if they are moist.