spacedog

Not the Friday I planned

I honestly have to say today was the toughest test on my sobriety in months. Despite no cravings. It gets weirder. I woke up feeling great, had some nice scrambled eggs for breakfast and had a good odd hour (odd hour being 3amish) chat with Les Sober.

Then all shit hit the fan. Mainly because I was trying to be a nice guy I decided to buy vitamins from my new doctors office to sorta show appreciation plus I wanted to take in the scenery on the drive to New Hope. It’s very wooded and hilly and quiet in Pennsylvania besides the cities.

So I took these digestzymes. One pill. Now I’ve been clean from alcohol about 10 months and heroin 18-19 years but I’m not big on dates, I’m bigger on burying the dead corpses of past behaviors I despise. My sobriety method is I feel if I turn around and reflect I will turn into a grain of salt like Lot’s wife in the bible. Anyway I’m glad I’m not a time traveller because honestly I would have travelled back with a shot of whiskey or rum and said don’t take that have this. But since I’m not a time traveller I did take the pill.

I happened to get a bit tired but didn’t think much of it. I threw a little cheese in my egg but even the slightest bit of cheese can make me fall asleep for 10-20 minutes. Woke up heart racing 30 minutes later.

This lasted for about 90 minutes or so and either ended by a few black olives or deep breathing. Probably the olives…. like I was never into martinis or booze with things on the rim, except margaritas. I always think it’s not fair there’s no salted non alcoholic drinks. Even if there were I’m milk, coffee, non tap water or die of thrist.

Anyway ended up calling this woman at the vitamin company who allegedly never heard of such a thing. I was too sick to call her out on her lie but you know what? Let’s just say the FDA is coming for her soon.

Nowhere on the actual bottle was there anything about papaya. Yet on some random literature that came with the bottle it was mentioned as part of their proprietary blend. It’s my fault I took the pill and didn’t ask more questions orginally. However I did find from my mother that papaya was the only food that made her throw up while pregnant was papaya of course.

It’s just hard for me to ask questions of others. I ramble on like a freight train. My ADHD doesn’t really allow me to focus on much and I try to read 8 books at once, all the while trying to learn chemistry, biology, chronobiology, nutrition, psychology literally 3 minutes at a time. I try and help others, not because I want to but feel it is almost my burden or calling.

I mean there is so so much I have to be grateful for. My family, my roof, ability to afford my WOE (way of eating) and a handful of really great friends.

I also have my instincts. (Except with sexy men but that’s too much ramble for one blog )

Honestly my first instinct was to not take this particular enzyme and return it when I saw papaya. This has also been my instinct for over 20 years when it comes to drinking. Honestly the only day it was my first instinct to drink in 20 years was the Eagles Super Bowl parade. I guess this is why I can’t stand AA with people constantly telling me my brain is broke or sloganing me to death. No asshole, honestly I’ve legit been drinking for digestive issues for nearly 25 years.

I’m just so glad the cravings only lasted for those 90 gut wrenching minutes. And completely disappeared afterwards. It may sound silly but 3 black olives sent me back to Earth. It’s a shame I can’t plant an olive tree in New Jersey.

WITHDRAWALS OF THE MISUNDERSTOOD PART 3

Today was really lame. I thought I would be accomplishing a good deal but it turns out that is not what fate had in the cards.

I mean I did happen to take a walk outside for the first time in about a year and did some HIIT for a full 8 minutes. However sadly both were cut short due to wardrobe malfunctions.

The first malfunction was 100% my fault. I did complete 80% of my planned walk. My pants only completed about 50%. Everything is too big. I’m a poor judge of clothing size everything looks elephant like but then it still falls off my fat hippo ass.

The other malfunction, while partially my fault, I can handle easily. Bad battery in heart rate monitor. It felt weird that my HR was 91 the entire workout and then I tried fixing things and it bungled up more than before. Thank god for amazon.l, battery probably just dead.

I ended up smoking again but have a plan for this weekend. Straight up leaving my car at my parents house, doing 3 days of a nicotine patch and then going cold turkey. The coffee while it sometimes makes me sick will be tapered down at that point.

There was going to be a story about a former therapist however after further review I will not get into it. Instant replay has confirmed that she is/was a Karen.

Ugh…. wasted day. It’s about to be the second night of buttered herbal tea. At least it tastes amazing.

By Spacedog

WITHDRAWALS OF THE MISUNDERSTOOD PART 2

So today September 1st was supposed to be day 2 or 3 or something of no cigarettes and coffee. Let me explain what happened. I got a heavy spurge of motivation after my cup of coffee yesterday. So I decided to clean like it was no one’s business. Now I knew for sure I was not going to find something like a bottle of booze or pills or illegal drugs. But what I did find was 5 different cigarettes (in 5 different places nonetheless). They were stale so then I needed coffee.

Now to be quite honest, the 2019 version of me would have seen all these circumstances as the most absolutely wonderful reason to have some alcohol. For a split second I thought about buying beer because that once helped my stomach but then I remember the last time I consumed it. Splitting headache, feeling of wanting to vomit after the first sip, chest tightness, stomach cramps. It was definitely one of the easiest voices to shut off in my head on record.

So I bought a pack. I only have one part of my bedroom left where anything dangerous could be lurking. The most I will possibly find is one cigarette or two, but I figured I might as well clean every last butt along with every last hidden can of beer (all long ago empty).

I figured out what was making me so ill feeling was ketoacidosis. I am so glad I bought this guy.

My non-fasting blood sugar was 70. I literally took 2 sips of Gatorade and felt instant relief. I then realized I’m going to have to consume a lot more carbs without the cigarettes. You see there is one funny thing that is contained in cigarette filters of all kinds. Sugar or a sugar substitute. Now I fully know that while I am not consuming a whole heck of a lot of sugar through this inhalation process there absolutely has to be some getting down there.

It’s weird when I did the Wendy’s cleanse (which is basically just 2 pounds of Wendy’s consumed over 2 days without bread, sauces,condiments. Just meat and cheese (optional.) last week it was the best I have felt in months. This time I guess I wasn’t all that deficient in what the beef has to offer and I just feel moderately good today, just feel heavy. I don’t know. Just know that tomorrow I’m going to hop onboard this quit show again. Maybe not the coffee this time. If I can stick to one or two, I think I am going to do that.

Yet for as nicotine-fitty and awful as I was feeling yesterday I did at least find something to potential explain my kale vomit extravaganza.

Health Dangers of Cruciferous Vegetables

So yeah goodbye broccoli, kale, and cauliflower. I really cannot say I will miss you very much. May my spirit guide give me strength that my sister not cuss me out when I send her the link. I just try to look out for her because of a recent kidney infection but she honestly will never listen to my health advice until it is too late. I am fully prepared for this and for her untimely death before mine. It is what it is.

The only person I can help is myself when it comes down to it. I really feel I should clean more but I’m not sure I really want another 15,000 steps around my house today. Need to slow my roll a bit with weight loss. Anyway I will be back tomorrow with more ominous health links and ramblings.

By Spacedog

WITHDRAWALS OF THE MISUNDERSTOOD PART 1

Hey Spacedog here….

It’s been a while. There was not going to originally be a post until next week but I just decided yesterday that enough was enough. What is it that I am coming off of you ask?

Well first off, my absence from here is mostly pandemic related. Out of all the billions of individuals in the world, I am probably in the top 1% of people with insane paranoid reactions. Eventually though I kinda grew to like it. I got to wear a mask so no one would know who I was. I didn’t have to worry if suddenly after 8 years of grand mal seizures today would be the day and I’d go straight into the Delaware River on my way to my doctor’s office. And I didn’t have to have any house guests! I became the Maybelline Girl. Maybe she’s born with it maybe it’s Maybelline! I was born for this.

Anyway….

So I’ve got to say I have been quite a bit off about one thing I have been telling people recently. My sobriety date from alcohol…. I really thought I drank this year. Nope the receipts clearly show November 17, 2019. Not that the difference between that and February 1st really matters much to me. All I know is the last 3 times I drank were rum, beer, and sparkling seltzer in that order. The rum tasted stale so I ended up dumping 4 ozs of a 14 oz bottle. The beer I ended up having to just toss after 5 of 12 because frankly it made me feel beyond shitty. As for the sparkling seltzer it was surprisingly good but actually still made me feel awful afterwards. Most of these manifestations I describe above were physical.

I sorta just quit. I did not need any bells and whistles or pats on the back. I kinda just did it on my own and it was mine and mine alone. No one could brag about how wonderful of a person they were to get me sober (while doing meth on the side, thanks AA Sponsor #6) or how they were so vital to my recovery (Here looking at you Sponsor #4, enjoy the oxys). Frankly I just did not care anymore. I guess I’m at day 275 or 276 or something for those who are counting. Frankly I’m not…..

So what is it I am coming off of right now? It’s nothing sexy or dangerous like meth or heroin or molly or crack or coke. Just some plain old cigarettes and coffee.

I can honestly say I feel entirely better than I thought I would at this point. I am a master at coming off of drugs, but sadly I am a bit rusty. I feel between all the antidepressants, heroin (several times), alcohol, and mood stabilizers I have been in this moment at least 30 different occasions before.

This occasion is really mild. The heroin was the worst by far but only when I was snorting it. I honestly only even got minor withdrawal no matter how much I shot. Alcohol I had about 2 Leaving Las Vegas spells in my 20s, but not really any withdrawal other than that.

The anti-depressants quite honestly to me were the biggest joke as well as the hardest legal drugs I have ever had to come off of. Depakote, lithium, effexor, paxil, prozac, seroquil, serzone. A laundry list of harm to me. Suicidal, emotionless, too much fake joy, sexless, mania, and winner winner chicken dinner homicidal respectively.

I seriously called poison control when it came to the Serzone. I kept thinking of what kind of knives my neighbors had and what it would be like to use them. And my nails look like I applied a bright coat of dark pink nail polish. P Control literally had no idea how to help me with what was going on. I called my friend Seth on the phone a few minutes later and he informed me he was on that garbage and to have some milk. A minute later my nails returned to normal, my thoughts came back shortly after.

Honestly coffee was going to be a battle for next week to give up but as I settled in on my couch at home I smelled the faint scent of flowers. It was mostly roses but maybe some lavender or lilac. I usually get this when my spirit guide is nearby. Anyway so I figured I’d just go to bed. At 6pm.

Then woke up at 130 and started writing this blog. I think I wholeheartedly can say that 1:30AM is a shitty ass time to wake up. I suppose this would be the absolute perfect time to wake up if I were say a rapist. Boom sober, boom bar, boom victim and whatever else rapey people do in between. Spray themselves down with the most vile of scents. I’m sure there are nice smelling rapists but frankly none of my rapists were Glade Scent Stories inspired. Obscure reference I know…. glade scent stories were this little thing that looked like a CD Walkman and you put the CD in and it would through a few scents per CD.

Physically though I’m feeling pretty good all things considered. I was highly disappointed that I was not able to pick out any online courses last evening but if my path is less than 24 hours off I really shouldn’t let myself worry too much. I really am not missing the cigarettes a whole lot especially without that stupid nicotine patch making my arm itch like crazy.

Coffee…. well I’ve just been trying to find any and all negative information. All I know is it comes from a plant and well I am inching oh so close to the Carnivore Diet or something similar. I still haven’t felt right since I juiced kale, zucchini, brocolli and lime. It tasted terrible. Rape victim of the jolly Green Giant terrible. Threw up 30 minutes later and passed out for 2.5 hours after.

So coffee….wheeeeee….. I probably should have tapered off down to 1 cup a day before I quit but I’m always up for a bigger challenge and a better suffering at this point. I’ve been drinking 3-5 cups a day for a few weeks. All this self imposed lockdown, this suffering, this absence of bliss will pay off in spades one day I tell myself.

I just don’t want to be half sober. I feel all of these people out there in Alcoholics Anonymous and all these other recovery programs are the biggest bunch of hypocrites on the planet. They are following around a plan based on 80 years of complete horseshit and pseudoscience. I guess I get it though. Most people are too weak and broken to get better on their own. They never seek their answers within and only rely on outside counsel. They drink coffee like fish, chain smoke like the marlboro man, and eat some of the worst cookies on the planet. Like seriously maybe I hadn’t been to a meeting in a while, but Chips Ahoy?

I see most of these people now for what they truly are. A bunch of dry drunks going around who like to preach to others because it gives them a sense of self importance. My way or the highway they say.

The absolute funniest thing about these people is they will engage you in normal conversation until you mention that you are not in AA. It’s like I single-handedly broke the matrix somehow. Seriously far more people get sober when not in this archaic broken program. The effectiveness is probably somewhere between aspirin between the knees and self baptism in your favorite local polluted body of water. I guess I shouldn’t knock anyone though it’s just frustrating.

I was put on this Earth to help others and sometimes I think the only way I am going to be able to do it is lie my teeth off. Sure I can lie my teeth off if I meet you somewhere by random chance….. like if I needed to come up with a BS story for my Grubhub driver or a grocery store clerk. When it comes to write though I don’t have that luxury. It’s just not in my blood. Brutal honesty or no writing. Only two options here.

But the moral of the story is it is only day 2 and day 1. cigarettes and coffee. It would be nice to be able to honestly just listen in to an AA meeting but I know I am not welcome at any. Well of course I am just not one meeting in particular I went to drunk because my wonderful sponsor #3 thought that Tori Amos concerts were going to somehow involve me shooting meth and going to circuit parties.

man I pick the winners! I seriously hope I don’t pick a husband as poorly one day as these sponsors. My award-winning sponsor picking is literally on par with Larry King and his fantastic wife picking. (I have no idea who any of his wives are, but I just assume if that many people would willing marry someone he either has a giant penis or a giant bank account) .

Gotta pick courses now will post tomorrow if I am not dead already.

By Spacedog

Everything is Coming up R̶o̶s̶e̶s̶ Crack Roses

Once upon a time, I used to be that guy that would check the internet for random holidays and annoy the shit out of people celebrating them.

National Cupcake Day? Sounds good to me.

National Piss Off Your Co-Worker Day? Why limit that to one day? I did this by breathing every single day. I once got poked in the eye by a female co-worker for the simple reason of me doing my job. Got a nifty pair of goggles by that is another tale.

National Prostitutes Day- I used to celebrate this but not anymore. I don’t think I’m still for sale but I sure as hell am not crusty enough to be buying yet.

So this week I am going to proclaim National Crack Cocaine Week. I am not really sure why it should be this week. I mean Bobby Brown was born in February and Whitney Houston was born in August. The crack mayor from the 1990s Marion Barry was born in March.

So why Crack Week? Why should it be right now? All of my actions this week have led me to crack. I have not personally smoked crack in more than a decade, nor do I have any burning desire to do so. Yet if I were pulled over earlier this week by a cop I would have quite a bit of difficulty explaining myself. My truth is their fiction.

It all started so innocently. Boy meets boy. Boys get weed. Boys smoke a bong hit. Boy gets a bit too high. Boy asks what is in this. Boy gets told freebase. Boy is older than the internet so he has no clue. Innocence gone.

Boy hits a car going 2 miles per hour. Lady in other car has a hissy fit. Cops come. Boy bats his eyes and pleads innocence. Cop tells boy (me) to go fuck my friend. I say no he’s not into me. Cop says your friend wants it real bad. Friend doesn’t believe me. Cop then flicks his tongue in and out at us in a manner that reminded me of Gene Simmons. Friend believes me.

So that is my history. That is my first time. I know some of you will say freebase is not crack to which I say YOU ARE A CRACKHEAD.

Back to the present……

I had a rather unfortunate event with my glass bong last weekend. I yanked it from underneath my kitchen cabinet directly upward and destruction was upon me.

Then at the same time I somehow threw out the only screen I had for it into the garbage. I checked my two faucets. They were barren of screens. So now logic would dictate I just buy a screen with the bong but no. I just bought a bong by itself.

Then I was just down to some shake left in my bag o’ weed. So instead of going back to where I bought the bong I thought oh I should just buy some Chore Boy. In my head I remember it as not having so many holes in it. So I threw my shake in there with the Chore. It utterly failed. I did have a flashback to smoking crack, not an urge per-say, just well Chore Boy does have a unique taste on its own.

So now I’m stuck with this.

At least if a random crackhead comes out of the woods and somehow gets into my apartment they will have something useful to steal. I’m seriously considering sticking it in a bowl with 1000 pennies so they’d have another amusement. Copper for the win BABY!!!

So then this new bong had a stem I did not like. (I did not break the old stem). It was too long and thin. So I decided to execute it in my sink. I thought it would break into a million pieces but instead I ended up with this. The STEMASAURUS!!!

By SpaceDog

The Many Faced Spacedog

Everyday when I wake up and look at myself in the mirror, I’m not really sure who I am viewing. Sure it is me but I’ve lived so many distinct lives with no connection to one another it is absurd.

Like everyone else I started off innocent. Then I got a dose of that good old Catholic guilt. Hated the parents from ten years old because of this. Why would they lie to me about something so important?

It finally came to a head when I had to smash out multiple windows in their home. I was indeed very serious about not attending church.

Around the same time I came to terms with being a homosexual. Not one of those cheesy Hollywood gay teen portrayals. I knew what I wanted and usually got it. Sure I pulled a bit of a Hard Candy situation and threatened an older man into sleeping with me or else, but what else would you expect? At my best I was Sebastian from Cruel Intentions plus a bit of Regina George (Mean Girls). I was terrifying.

I faked mental illness for many years to the point that I have fooled nearly everyone to this day. Sure I had a few suicide attempts, most illegitimate barring one. These were all caused by medication which was supposed to help. I will get to this in another blog.

I tried my hardest to be an extrovert but discovered I did not relate to very many others. I tried drug dealing, prostitution, and even attempted being a mail order bride. Sadly the guilt never let me be a bride even though I had many offers.

Then a foot injury came. 20 years ago. It led to opiate abuse and then eventually heroin abuse because I was abadoned by friends who were only there when I had a vehicle. The only one left just happened to be a heroin addict and down the rabbit hole I went.

Sometimes I feel like the original Oxycontin victim because I lived the story you hear all too often in today’s news. It was a dark and solitary several years because frankly I did not want to be around other users. It was a gross habit.

Then there were some lost years. I do not remember much of them. I drank heavily at first. This led to 80 pounds of weight gain in a year. It came off almost as rapidly. I was obsessed with someone who I clearly thought was obsessed with me. This was not real as that person completely bought into the lies about mental illness big pharma wants us to believe.

As I struggled with substances I also struggled with who I was. Most people I’ve met seem to have some issue with me because I’m straight acting. It’s not an act though it’s just me. I love sports, divas, queens, bros, most forms of tv (except true crime and cop shows), all music (just not the bs playing in 90% of gay clubs) and everything in between. Still the queens think I’m too masculine and the gay bros say I’m too fem. Apparently being naturally well rounded is not a quality others tend to believe in.

So the point to all this is that while I am all of the things I’ve ever been I am also none of them. Sure I’ve made countless mistakes along the way. I have no regrets. Yes, I could have handled things better with the handful of my friends who now live in graveyards. Regrets though never. I just had to stay in the darkness a bit longer before I knew where he the dark ended and the light began.

The only thing that truly matters though is today and tomorrow. I finally have a clear vision of what it is I want. The veil has been lifted for me.

What do I want you ask? It is a secret. Everyone is a naysayer. I’ve shared far too many secrets with all the wrong people. There is way too much ambition within me and I’d love to finally be able to use it.

But it’s all just for today. That’s the only slogan I have ever found useful in a 12 step program. Some days I go old and sit around and do nothing watching game shows like I’m 90. Other days I challenge myself to 2 hours at the gym or 20,000 steps. Some days I go young and binge teen dramas. I really don’t care what you think. I do me. You do you.

Still while I know who I will be tomorrow beyond that remains a mystery. All the vexations of my spirit have been cast away in some long forgotten martini glass. Something massive is growing inside my soul. I hope it’s love and not some tumor. Fuck tumors.

You aren’t who you were. You are who you dream. I am living the dream. I hope you do one day too.

by Spacedog

The Amazing Adventures of Dr Lisa Lithium Part 1

In a place not far from where you may live a little girl was born many eons ago. The year 1950. Her place of birth though remains a mystery. She was found in a public restroom outside of an unknown Washington Township. All that was found with her was a piece of paper which read, “This is Lilith. We do not want her. In the toilets she shall remain, the sewage that she is.”

She was found by a family named Smith and a family named Jones, though these were not the names the families had come to America bearing. They were the 1950s version of a gay couple; two gay men and two lesbians who after one drunken evening found each other’s truths and married.

The families decided to rename her Lisa Smith. Lilith was not a name they wanted to keep attached to her, with or without the harrowing note. She was named after a longtime friend who knew their truths but had passed away in a horrific boating accident.

Dead Lisa was a bubbly, warm soul who always gave 110% of everything. If you needed a lift she was there. A shoulder to cry on. A hug. A handjob. Anal. Dead Lisa was a bit too ahead of her time and this is ultimately what lead to her untimely demise.

It was so told that while vacationing in the bayous of Mississippi, Lisa and two friends had the unfortunate experience of a foundering motorboat. On top of this, the propeller had completely stopped working. One friend wished that someone could swim and push the boat towards safety. Lisa heard the call and into the water she went.

She was only in the water for about a minute when she emitted a scream. A gator was attacking her. It took a healthy bite out of her shin, not quite taking everything below that but leaving her dangling like a rogue piece of spaghetti not wanting to play with the other spaghettis on the fork.

Amid her agony suddenly the propeller reactivated. Usually this would be a good thing but she had won the Powerball of bad luck. The gator had dragged her directly to it. This was the actual cause of her death, not the gator, but her being motorboated by a motorboat. Just to top things off as she went under it took off all the recognizable features of her face. Her soft lips. Shredded. Her fat pointy little nost. Her green eyes sunken deeper into her skull. Her forehead shredded to the bone.

But enough of Dead Lisa. This is the tale of the living one. She will not be denied.

(Stay tuned for more….)

By SpaceDog

2010s Death March

Just thought I would compile a list of all the things that have died in the past 10 years or so.

Well not all everything. Things die innumerably every second whether a person, animal, physical thing, or idea.

These a few of the more obscure.

1) deadoraliveinfo.com- possibly dead. HOW THE FUCK am i gonna know who I am about to outlive now?

2) tumblr porn- for those amphetamine fueled nights where the other 50,000 porn sites didn’t quite cut it.

3) aol IM- the last time i was on here was 8 years ago. All i remember is some black guy from the city randomly Im’d me. I used to yell at him. A lot.

4) AOL chatrooms-

These may still exist within the void of folks still using dialup. This group contains a few personal thins.

Goodbye free passwords.

Goodbye Trisha from Wyoming.

Goodbye Trishas lover

Goodbye free money.

Goodbye AOL sugar daddy.

GOODBYE my johns.

Goodbye my puddlediver.

Goodbye free religious propaganda.

Bye pencil dicks.

Goodbye you’ve got mail.

5) Goodbye Leonard Cohen, the only person i was drunk the whole time from death to funeral thanks to #6.

6) Bye Trump.

7) Bye light cigarettes. And fuck off colored cigarettes.

8) Goodbye me having to imagine obscure celebs shirtless. Holla instagram!!

9) Goodbye Sonic Boom- no one over 21 should be trying random underknown drugs. I could say no one should but teenagers don’t listen.

10) Goodbye vomiting red wine 20 feet from Sonic Boom.

11) Goodbye my insane neighbor and her banshee family.

12) Goodbye giant bags of gum

13) Later Blockbuster

14) Goodbye my 30 inch waist.

15) Goodbye fake facebook friends.

16) Goodbye being spared from 90s action movie stars. They seem to have formed a union where i must see one every week.

17) Goodbye and fuck you hurricane sandy.

Related-

goodbye some of my dishes

Goodbye my lamp

goodbye wendys coffee. Don’t do it. You’d be better off trying Krokodil.

goodbye me being a tool

18)

Goodbye light cigarettes. Thanks for confusing me and every cashier nationwide.

19) Bye Lena Dunham. Seeing your vagina every week was the final cement in me being gay.

20) Goodbye Blockbuster.

21) Goodbye apps that paid me 5 dollars for watching 5 minutes of videos.

22) Goodbye couch guy. I’m never adopting a couch guy again no matter his cuteness or penis. You shouldn’t either.

23) Goodbye shitty seedy cheap weed. How i dont miss my ounce of weed being a quarter ounce seeds.

24) goodbye procrastination. This blog has been in drafts for 4 months.

25) goodbye whatever else i missed.

Rejected TV Shows

These shows are all great on paper but sadly many are far ahead of their time.

1- Whose Kid Is It Anyway?-

Who wouldn’t want a network reality show to start with a gangbang? None of the Americans ones for sure. Long story short: Girl meets boy. The catch? Girl meets 15 boys and shoves them all in her snatch.

Then she eliminates them one by one (or more) before she gets the paternity test. Sadly the orgy for this film was shot but never released.

Even more tragically the star of the show Vanessa Montana Lopez died during a botched week 40 abortion of her pregnancy while waiting for the producers to get back to her about filming.

2) King of the Trump-

I know what you are thinking. Nope not about him. Picture a bunch of senior citizens trying to out racist one another. Also bill cosby was slated to host and that didn’t quite turn out too good.

3) The Brotherhood of the Travelling Jock Strap

So this must be great gay camp, right? Nope the whole show took place in a hetero beaver cleaver world. The jock strap was a talking jock strap but alas even talking jock straps can’t save america.

4) Serial

Never got made because well no serial killers wanted to kill people wearing body cams or shitty google glasses.

5) Anuses Over the Moon

How far can you shoot objects out of your anus? Not far enough as the search for the greatest anal field goal kicker in the world continues.

6) I Think I Fucked My Mom

This show pitted horny young men with vivacious cougars. After wining, dining and 69ing however the bombshell was dropped. You just fucked your birth mother. However massive abadoned dwarf protests led by Tangia (walk into the light Carol Anne) and the Munchkin 7 in the early 90s halted this project right after the pilot was found.

7) Dick Dongle Does Kids

Pee Wee had it hard. Too hard at a porn theater. Dick dongle actually taught kids but the title killed the show and the real life Dick Dongle (yes his birthname) shot himself and 3 others at a Texas rest stop in 2001.

8) Dumpster Livin

This followed around a group of homeless dumpster diving, begging and smoking crack all day. The homeless led by former grateful dead devotees fought this long and hard but by trying to give the homeless LSD. They gave Ricky Hanakowski a bit too much. He killed 2 people and ate a living cat in front of onlookers because he had to prove his worth to Satan. He was in hell’s kitchen after all.

More shows to come later.

By SpaceDog

The Gaming Conundrum

Why doesn’t spacedog post as much as he should? The title of this blog basically explains it all.

While I cannot tell you why I am even play certain games that suck it always ends the same. With massive upheavals or drama.

I have a few moments I’m a bit more proud of then others.

My ultimate favorite is i got into one of the top 2 or 3 guilds in a castle invander style mobile game. Things went well at first until I simply asked about the discord. It was during some event and whoever was running the guild was too stupid/lazy to make one. SO I got the boot cuz i disrupt some event. No warning nada.

Then my revenge. It all started with some simple trooling nothing to brag about honestly. People do really hate when you shit on their kids though. Dude sent me a death threat. He got banned.

Then another person was really annoying me. Hardcore. They had a facebook linked account. I will not divulge my methods of madness but this occured in the end. I found a programming flaw in under an hour and got into their game account. Sold everything they owned. Flamed the chat room some after changing their name 10 times with their premium currency.

Honestly i haven’t had that much fun in a chat room since the AOL heyday. People gave out passwords like the oceans gave out salt. Nothing nefarious was done on my part. I had friends get credit card numbers through instant messages.

The best chat room was caller GNN. It probably only lasted for less than a year but it was basically 99 people chat rooms but you had the option to change your handle every 5 minutes.

Oh did we. We’d be ourselves, the elderly and 12 year olds mostly (we were 15 not a huge stretch). The best is when we got some dude to show up at a 7-11 to meet a nonexistent girl. This may have been the longest period of sustained laughter in my life when he showed.

Otherwise the game and chat shenanigans are relatively boring. Calling someone names, getting too drunk, hitting on someone in an unamusing (to them) way.

Right now I think I am having a fight about math. Seriously. Just when i didnt think it could get any nerdier. It really doesn’t matter though the game sucks. I will win either way. If i get kicked i quit and if i legit win my arguement i may actually lose. Conundrum.

It’s like coffee though. You have a bad cup or 2 to get your fix. ALL addiction is the same. I probably did something else ridiculous that i can’t really recall. I can’t think straight.

Time for my sludgy morning joe.

By SpaceDog