Wow. I’ve never seen this before and I really liked it.

I don’t fall asleep listening to anything but my fan, but reading knocks me the fuck out most nights. Sometimes I can’t make it through a paragraph before catching myself with my eyes completely closed.

Honestly, that’s on her for not liking the smell of cumin.

Bruh…

I really struggle to enjoy crafting in Subnautica. Something about it just feels clunky and/or a step removed from me, and I don’t engage with it very well.

I love long open-world games, but I also reached a certain point in TW3 where I just burned out. It was weird too, because up until that point I was getting anxious over how little map I had left to explore. Then boom, I just lost my drive. Maybe I subconsciously sabotaged it so that I wouldn’t run out of game. I’d really like to try again sometime.

JENKINS WAS MY PA!!!

No, but I miss the days of smaller forums with user recognition. The last time I really recognized a user that wasn’t a mass repost bot was a user on the r/stalker (game) sub-reddit by the name of CeliceTheGreat. Every interaction and opinion we ever had were seemingly in solidarity with one another, and it was always a pleasure to encounter him on other subs occasionally. I doubt he was any more Russian than I am (American/Canadian), but I miss you, comrade, and think of you often.

Facebook.com

It’s so great, you guys… You would love it.

Rockstar (2.25), 4pk of Snickers (4.40), Burger King Double Cheeseburger (3.50)… Shit, I went over. I don’t know how I could make any compromises here.

Bro grabbed that one Alduin skin off the Nexus.

Oh, botha… Wew… As dey say… When in da Hundwed Acre Woods… 🤷🥂

WHAT’RE’YA BOYYIN?!

While I don’t have it anymore, for years I had a recurring nightmare about the house I grew up in. There had always been unusual occurrences within, mostly auditory but sometimes visual. Looking back, I was never that spooked about it while living there. I honestly loved that property and have fond memories of growing up among all those old apple trees. But for years after moving out I would dream that I had returned to it, and it was very, very different.

In the dreams the house was dark and full of shadows. Completely devoid of furniture and decor. It was gray, empty, and wholly abandoned. While inside I could feel an overwhelming and foreboding precense. It was this feeling of fear and panic. Pure dread. There was something disturbing there with me as I traveled from room to room, nervously anticipating every new corner as the sun sank low and the shadows grew deeper inside. As the years progressed, I would find the house to be filled with spectral cats that accompanied me throughout, or darted around the rooms inexplicably, sometimes out of the corner of my eye and other times as clear as day. Though I couldn’t quite focus on them, I had the feeling these were all the cats I had owned growing up. Some of them cats I had owned and lost since originally living there. It was as though they were trapped in the purgatory of that haunting, empty dream house, and even though the cats seemed to be full of spunk, there was an immense sadness about them being there.

The dreams occurred with greater frequency into my late 20s-early 30s, until one night I simply stepped inside and realized there was nothing left to fear. Suddenly the house no longer bothered me. It stood still and silent. Cleansed somehow. There were no more shadows, ghostly cats or smothering prescences within. It was as though the both me and the house had been freed.

I haven’t dreamt about that house since, other than a snippet from another unrelated dream, where I found myself briefly gathered with a co-workers family on the back deck, but I didn’t realize where I had been until waking.

I wish I had learned piano. I’ve spent my entire life wishing I would learn piano, but I’m too awkward to book lessons and/or commit to sitting down with an instructor. But as a kid I had a natural ear for playing and could figure out a portion of most songs if I spent enough time poking at the keys. My daughter (4) has been fidgeting with her little keyboard a lot. I’m wondering if we shouldn’t learn together in the future.

I often close my eyes and move my fingers as though I’m playing naturally, and I swear I know where all of the keys are. It’s more than just pretend. It’s like it’s been here all along, but I’ve never honed it. I know that I could play something beautiful if I just fucking tried.

I could bag that house myself with a steady supply of cauliflower and Beyond Meat burgers. Shit, I probably have Roland beat already.

Thank you. This is a beautiful sentiment.

Sometimes it’s weird to look back on middle school, and the teachers who brought our generation up as young kids being told about the future. I’m an adult now, and I feel like an adult now, but in a way it feels like I’m still a part of that group of dumb and naive kids. It doesn’t feel that long ago at all. But the reality is that all of us are now pushing 40, and our time there is now wholly irrelevant, and we’re so far removed from those years that it’s fucking wild. A lot of those teachers are probably dead now.

I don’t know how to articulate what it is I’m meaning to say here. It’s just weird that we were kids so recently. I don’t feel like my life has gone by all that fast, but middle school to 40 somehow did all the same. I feel my age, and I feel as though I’ve lived to my age, but my memories don’t feel distant whatsoever. It feels like that was nine years ago.

Just like I feel like I was still living at home with my dad a few years ago, but I’ve been living in another country away from my parents for 7 years now, and my dad had been dead since last May.

He was such a good dad.

I wish I agreed with this, but every day more forests and fields are knocked down to make room for more shitty subdivisions in my area. The few farmers that have held out and still use their land on the middle of the city are heroes, but I know that within a few decades they will slowly dissappear, as the farmers die and their kids cash in on that appreciated land.

Raw mushrooms dipped in Hidden Valley are pretty good… I love how they pop lightly when your teeth pass through them. You also can’t go wrong with a peanut butter and banana sandwich…

I have a copycat recipe for Taco Bells quesadilla sauce that is dirt cheap to make. I’ve probably made 30 liters of it in my lifetime. Smear that on a mini flour tortilla with some Great Value grilled chicken strips (no doubt made with tortured chickens to keep the price low) and a bit of shredded cheese (cheddar and monteray jack) and you’ve got one hell of a tasty quesadilla to fry up.

Here’s the recipe for the sauce. Let me know if you get around to making it. Would love to know what you think.

1 cup mayo (I use Helman’s 1/2 fat)

2 tbsp sugar

2 tbsp pickled jalapeno juice (from Old El Paso pickled jalapeños)

2 tsp cumin

2 tsp paprika

1/2 tsp garlic powder

1/2 tsp cayenne pepper

A dash of salt

And how ever many diced pickled jalapeños you see fit