Titty Hurts

When I first got the gynecomastia, there was a generalized firmness and sensitivity to mild injury that was probably what you’d imagine for growing breasts.  Lately one then the other of my tetas are experiencing more of a sharp pain.  It runs in lines but I don’t think I’d characterize it as a shooting pain.

I looked it up and I’m almost certainly fine; mastalgia from boobening can take more than one form.  And maybe I’ll be more chesty on the other side, huzzah, but it’s a pain for now.

Titty hurts.  The more u kno.  (o)(o)

–

A Dang Shame

Sure liked The Dukes of Hazzard when I was a wee child.  Beautiful man voice theme song, talkin about those beautiful boys that never meant no harm.  They just wanna fly their pretty orange car over random rivers, pursued by unscary little comic relief policemans.  One of them had a floppy-eared dog.  Sometimes there was a pretty lady there.  When stuff got too wild, beardy uncle would settle it down.  If I remember all that right.

I loved the shape of a muscle car, the perfect combination of boxy and curvy, the dark grill reminiscent of the intakes on jet engines, the feeling of power and possibility.  They stopped making cars shaped like that and I always wished they’d bring them back.

Well, around pandemic time, they actually did.  Muscle cars exist again, happy day!  But I’m not four years old anymore, don’t live in a world where fast driving never kills or disfigures people, don’t live in a world where gratuitous fossil fuel use is a harmless lark.

And just everything about that piece of shit tv show has aged equally well.  It put a shiny sexy funtimes gloss on the worst shit imaginable, just the worst crimes in human history.  Hundreds of years of monstrous evil defended to the dying breath under that fucking orange flag.  The way the flag’s renewed popularity in the 20th century had always been a banner for the proud perpetuation of dehumanization and oppression, of lionizing the villains of history that Hitler himself was inspired by.

General Lee, fuck your memory and fuck the people who tried to sing it sweetly to tiny children.  Fuck whatever ancestors of mine that put our surname on generations of their rape victims, their human “property.”  Fuck ameriKKKa for clinging to the idea of our virtue on the blood-drenched soil of this land, echoes of absolute horror in every ruined plot and parking lot from sea to polluted sea.

Unrelated, fuck street racers, who care so little about the lives of others they endanger them every day for cheap thrills.  Rest in pieces you criminal fuckers.  May all your buddies mangle only their own flesh, may they fly past the innocent and burst into flames alone.

Shame shame shame, a little song of shame.  Then I return to idle fancies and daydreams in my usual way.  A floppy-eared dog hanging his head out an unproblematic car, flying merrily through a consequence-free world.

–

had a dream the other night i was some gal’s gay best friend, so i had an excuse for not knowing how to drive, hey, same excuse i have irl, except i have no hetero bff here.

anyway, we went to a little movie theater where you reserved your seat by taking a slice of cake, the colors of which corresponded to the movie you wanted to see.  but the only slices remaining were the white ones with rainbow splotches, corresponding to the cg smurf threequel, so we took no cake and watched nothing.

–

Spoil Me This, but Ne’er That

I really don’t care about being spoiled on most narrative media.  I might have felt very different about it when The 6th Sense came out, but I don’t even remember.  Anyway, spoil anything you want in the comments.

If something is good, it’ll still have some interest in the execution.  I knew Gregor Samsa turned into a bug and whatever happened after that was sad, absurd, and unpleasant.  The specifics still matter, still animate the reading experience.

But there is one story where I know the setup but do not know how it ends, and I would like to preserve the surprise.  Maybe it’s because the hook is more compelling than most, with no obvious solution.  Anyway, the story is centuries old; I’m a little overdue to find out.

But still, don’t spoil it!

–

How to Play Right

I may have given the idea, by way of some cheek, that I am an inflexible taskmaster as a GM.  I think it’s possible to have standards in player behavior while also adapting to what the players want to do.  Observe the comments on this old post, where I GM’d a little adventure, wordpress style…

RP by Comment

If the whole thing is too much to read, the teal deer:  In the end I had one player left.  He wanted to cut jeezis some slack, which is not what I’d originally set out to do at all.  But he was being a good player, writing a story that worked, so I let it happen.

Maybe consistency isn’t the thing I’m desiring the most.  Maybe I just want to see players write characters that I would ever want to see in media.  Hero, antihero, villain, joker – just be entertaining.  Not to yourself alone; consider the audience of people you are playing with.

That includes the GM.

–

TTRPGs as Writing

On my previous post, I suggested an alignment system – a declaration of a character’s moral inclinations – could be a useful tool to avoid some of the annoyances I’ve had in players having wildly inconsistent characters.  But why does that bother me?

On one level, the obvious.  Hard to plan the overarching path of a story if you have no idea how a character will respond to it.  But there’s something more.

I can’t help but see TTRPGs as an act of creative writing.  I’m bothered by shit characters because they are shit writing.  If I could just get with players on their level I’d be ok, right?

I can’t.  I can’t see it as disposable fluff time, a meaningless jackoff session.  Why not?  If it is, I’m just the fool distributing handjobs for free.

I would literally rather hold the unhygienic penii of strangers in both hands and tease them to climax on my t-shirt than GM for bad players.

Does that make sense of where I’m coming from?  heh.  coming.

–

Alignment Systems or No?

I don’t have a computer right now (composing this on cellphone) so I can’t type well enough to really write.  But I’d like to start a little discussion.  Alignment systems in TTRPGs:  yea or nay?

For the longest I wasn’t going to include one in my home brew RPG, but as I reflected on my annoyance with inconsistent player morals, I think, yeah, I want that.  I want to be able to point at that entry on a character sheet and say, what are you doing now?

Wanna change that “nice” to “naughty”?  Again?  Why don’t you just start your next guy as naughty and save yourself the trouble?  Why do you keep doing this to me mothafuckas?  This was supposed to be a fun game, not a morality play, not a psychodrama.

I don’t want to make that alignment have metaphysical reality / game effect to it, just want a guardrail for player behavior.  Assuming it would even work, I dunno…

–

RuFK?

hey hey who’s done this one?  RuFK haha, got ’em.  don’t let the door hit ya where HOX genes split ya.  wocka wocka wocka.

this wasn’t a real post, just another case of sidebar vandalism.  sorry for the fakeout

Chronic Pain Tetris Game

Remember that news story about how a reporter randomly found out his wife had berserk record-breaking ultra Tetris skills?  I know a lot of AFAB people have chronic pain, fibromyalgia, endometriosis, shit like that.  And I know video games like Tetris can engage the mind in a way that helps distract from pain.  I wonder out my ass like an evopsych bro, are wimmenfolk better at Tetris because of chronic pain?  Could I have a career in pop science fluff pieces?

–

Manoposting III: An Unfortunate Self-Immolation

I’m sure we’ve all been following the really important things happening in US culture at the moment, but it’s nice to see our humorists put them in perspective, cut through the haze of this whirlwind we’re all experiencing.  I present for you D’Angelo Wallace’s thoughts on ostensible feminist Katy Perry’s newest album, made with the help of notorious alleged rapist Dr. Luke.

Well worth watching.

–