I think this articulation will change - to an extent - how I communicate in the future, so thank you for this. I’m still going to be a dumb dog on the internet, but I always want to be a kind one.

[…the conservative “an indication of sexuality is an invitation to sexualize”] - Ew, and I totally understand.

[4chan’s “Tits or GTFO”] - Ew. Again, I totally understand.

I meant well. Hopefully I haven’t caused offense. I just wanted to juxtapose the conversation with a casual absurdity.

True. Now I’ve got anxiety over if I’ve displayed that in a light-hearted enough manner.

But anxiety is why people don’t meet other people or establish reasonable connections. What are you about, friend?

This is a Masterclass.

Me: “I WILL be Elden Lord”

Also Me: refuses to level past 1

Clears throat awkwardly Are you… uh… seeing anyone now?

I suppose you’re correct. My bad. I guess I intended to imply it with basil orange bread, which I still think is possible. I just have to workshop it.

IN THE KITCHEN!

Is “World” supposed to be Kansas, Boston, or Asia?

I’m just saying that baking is the same if you’ve got the balls or lack of self-preservation to experiment.

Opposite, dude! Or let me redefine that. Cooking is also a no holds bar situation. Kitchen is a fuck around space and we can fail any way we want to as long as no one sees it. Do you want to try some garam masala pesto on my basil orange bread?

There are some cases where there’s a balanced zen to it. Take the Dark Souls series. It’s rewarding not because you accomplished a task, but because you overcame a seemingly impossible obstacle, which can feel very rewarding. I’m on a level 1 run of Elden Ring, and it’s profoundly punishing, but I’m halfway through the expansion, and seeing my progress fills me with joy.

Really, though?

Flagrant acts of racism.

Portland pretends to be better than that, but I keep having casual reminders that we’re really white-coded. A black guy walks into the liquor store at 10:00 am and both the women behind the counter have a collective sense of panic when I’m walking up to check out. There was nothing off about him. They just had some immediate sense that he intended harm. The one checking me out said, under her breath, “oh, I thought we were getting robbed”.

It was obvious the dude noticed their reaction, and it made me feel fucking horrible.

Braggart.

Some say the most dangerous game is the hunting of man.

I know that it’s Knife Monopoly.

Ah, crap. I don’t have kids. Or neurotypical processing. Or dignity. I’ll find a way to cheese it, though.

I am truly grateful for our collectivism. This is home, because I know I always have family and will fight tooth and claw to maintain that.

If there’s anything we can depend upon, it’s the Willamette Valley interdiction to meeting corporate greed, and I love it. Represent. I’m there.

Edit: it’s a valley and not a velley. My phone is dumb, but apparently you guys get it.

If you empathize with having to move a heavy sofa up several flights of stairs with only two people, you help move a stranger’s sofa. There’s no enjoyment. It sucks for everyone. People get hurt and bump around and say, “sorry” and “ow” a lot. That’s what the pizza/beer is for.

Even if you’re moving it at 9:00 am, you crack a beer when you’re done. It’s more volunteer work than civic duty, but it feels more rewarding than a shift at the food bank.

Source: I volunteer for the food bank.

This is heartwarming. It sounds inaccurate. I don’t have a truck, but stranger if you live around Portland, I’ll help you move a sofa.