Occassional yelling is part of normal family life; being yelled at, yelling at and yelling together or apart.Except I have PTSD, depression, anxiety and OCPD with the former caused by a severe mental workplace injury.Logic me knows this is normal; animal me feels existential dread in that life is ultimately meaninglessness but the terror of no life is greater.That is deeply fucked. It is deeply fucked to experience normal life with the riddled cruelty of a savage injury.
Articles from Harrangue Man
Jack Black is totes m'goats.
Balding men do not sweat pretty. Also there's nowhere for the sweat to be absorbed so it stays slicked to scalp skin.Until that is you put on a hat. I did that with a max sweaty head and the hat scraping the scalp caused a cascade of salty discharge to roll down my forehead and into my eyes. I had to find paper towels to daub up all that head sweat. Some people find balding sexy; I don't.
Technocrats are always thinking about fixing things or improving them. The trick is getting a chance to be heard.A call went out for pitches so, fuck it, I pitched as hard as I could.
I lost my glasses yesterday in my room. I checked the usual spots then expanded the search. Knowing they were in my room somewhere but gripped in escalating distress since not being able to see clearly is distressing. I ended up with the mattress in the corridor and bedding stacked on shelves as in near tears I could not find them.Then I found them on the shelf which I had checked a dozen times.To have a not great body and not great eyesight is fucked.
Same fence but from the other direction. My Game of Thrones t-shirt took the impact, tearing of course, but all I have is a bruised arm with a long scratch.I thought about choosing one of the two other routes but I did not want to give that spot power. So I foot pedalled the bike through instead.My arm stings and is tender to the touch. But I didn’t gouge a chunk out so that’s something.Second time out and crashed again; classic.
In D&D a holy weapon does extra damage to evil creatures.
I had a nipple-shrouded rubber ball and tried to bounce it off a milk crate ala Jack Nicholson in the hotel lobby.I threw it past that and it vanished behind a rolled up carpet. Straight away. And I was so confident. Also my ear infection is back worse that ever, I pronged it and tried to blow it clear through a pinched nose. It's about the worst it's ever been and I may die now. Well-played, myself.