34 Samia: Bloodless

There’s something oddly comforting about cattle mutilations, isn’t there? No? Just me? Cows mysteriously and clinically slaughtered, no footprints, tire tracks or evidence of human involvement at all. Like the cows were painlessly Raptured from this stinking Earth and their own servitude that only leads to slaughter by different means. The corpse left there decaying in the son, but their bodies hollowed out by draining, lying there empty and bloodless.

There’s something quite undeniable about the possibility of just… disappearing. You wouldn’t need any reasons, no tragedy or story to worry your family with, you can just – poof! – drain your whole body of all its essence and leave an empty husk in the sand to be discovered by an Idaho rancher.

but where’s the blood

Rumble in the Bumble pt.3

Part 1, Part 2

Today we embark on strictly a scouting mission. My profile is, yes, fucking mindblowingly good, but it’s merely an unfinished husk at the moment and unlikely to truly emotionally manipulate any woman into sending me pictures of their boobs. That is, after all, all this online ‘Zero Hour Dating’ is really about. Today, we’re just looking at the options, seeing what kind of bear bating meat market the crust of the Earth has split open to reveal. I’m not physically rating these people- and you’re certainly not seeing pictures, you disgusting leches- everyone is beautiful, and not everyone possesses the psychological wherewithal to paint half their face blue. We’re all about people’s personal bio. And in that case it really doesn’t turn out that everyone is beautiful at all. In fact, many people are freaking munters.

So, into the depths we dive, I open up Bumble and…

Wait, what the fuck is that?

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55 Amanda Palmer & Edward Ka-Spel: I Can Spin a Rainbow

A Vanity Projection of all Seven Colours

What are the best things? Like, what is the stuff you really like best?

The good stuff, right? The things that are are generally of superior quality, the things that are made up of such unarguable value that their very existence seems to increase the very worth of your being even just an iota. The things that are either useful or beautiful.

Some people say they like bad stuff. They’ll swear that they definitely see quality or usefulness in the music of Phil Collins, eating non-magic mushrooms, the films of Adam Sandler, fascism, and organic food*. These people may often claim ‘irony’, but that’s only because they don’t understand what ‘irony’ means. But these people don’t actually like bad things because they’re bad, they secretly like them because they’re too stupid to realise that they’re bad, and actually think they’re good. These people are absolute idiots, potentially dangerous, and should be disregarded in any serious debate.

There’s stuff that tries to  be bad- your Sharknados, your Donald Trumps**, your Blink 182s. This is the bottom of the barrel, merely a celebration of renouncing ambition and lowering expectation. These things, and the people who like them, are just celebrating nihilism rather than anarchy. These people are absolute idiots, potentially dangerous, and should be disregarded in any serious debate.

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