No homo.

Email me at peanutbutterfollicles@gmail.com if you have an invite

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Here's the thing. You said a "chipmunk is a ground squirrel." Is it in the same family? Yes. No one's arguing that. As someone who is a scientist who studies squirrels, I am telling you, specifically, in science, no one calls chipmunks ground squirrels. If you want to be "specific" like you said, then you shouldn't either. They're not the same thing. If you're saying "squirrel family" you're referring to the taxonomic grouping of Sciuridae, which includes things from prairie dogs to flying squirrels to marmots. So your reasoning for calling a chipmunk a ground squirrel is because random people "call the small ones ground squirrels?" Let's get mountain beavers and dormice in there, then, too. Also, calling someone a human or an ape? It's not one or the other, that's not how taxonomy works. They're both. A chipmunk is a chipmunk and a member of the squirrel family. But that's not what you said. You said a chipmunk is a squirrel, which is not true unless you're okay with calling all members of the squirrel family chipmunks, which means you'd call prairie dogs, marmots, and other rodents squirrels, too. Which you said you don't. It's okay to just admit you're wrong, you know?

Pasta?

I'm really upset that my mom is only spending 300 dollars on presents for my birthday. There's 3 books that I wanted which I are rare collectors items, and my mom only got 2 of them. Neuromance and Dubliners, easton press copies.

fear me

bump

My thread I made yesterday still hasn't move past the front page. I guess people finally got tired of this shitty board which was never fun or interesting in the first place. I only post here because it's bungie and bungie used to be my home.

The exercise fairy. It sounds like a pitiful joke, that if a headline read "the exercise fairy was stepped on" you might laugh; partially at it's pitiful existence, but at the irony of such a pitiful defenseless creature being effaced. The cruel humor gives you a chance to exercise the inner desire to be cruel, in spite of the society which conditions you through the superficiality of movies and tv shows to feel that sticking up for the little guy is virtuous. The poor exercise fairy. In reality it's no different from the man who wears the banana costume outside of some icecream shop on the side of an off ramp of a highway. The exercise fairy exposes human nature in all of it's cruel malevolence.

A dream which my mind produced as if to perpetuate the sadness I was feeling when I went to bed

This is the furthest back I can remember of this cruel dream. So it was the last day of school and I left on a group of buses that left onto a long road that led me to a small town. I remember it wasn’t quite the end of the school year yet, and I didn’t know that school was about to end. My teacher gave me an assignment which I think had something to do with a gameboy. Soon it was over and I realized that school was finally over, and I went onto a road where I walked up for a while to find a train to hop on to. I jumped onto the top of it and there were a few people there. The train took me a ways but I eventually found myself back to some buses, which seemed to be offered for free. It’s ironic to me now, but it was the last day of school and I didn’t even think about it, I didn’t have any special feelings about it whatsoever.

I then found myself in a town I found a really hot guy but he was sad and distant. He seemed to be into the same sexual fetishes as me, but he was distant and distraught the whole time. I found a toy garbage truck which I emptied out to find some old legos, but it didn’t have any cute mementos that I hoped it would have. It was in a decent size house, with a rather summery feel. There was another cute guy in the house too who was also distraught. I remember that the guy who I thought was cute yelled at or hit a young girl or something. He was very depressed, so I put my hand on his back and hugged him and said it’s okay, but then I gently asked why he hit that little girl. I don’t remember what he said, but I don’t remember taking his response as no response.  Then were were laying the the same bed, but opposite directions and not touching each other.

I wondered around town for a while and found a “food bank” in the middle of a neighborhood block, which was just concrete and dust, which somehow kept perfectly preserved food from whole foods. I went back to the house after that, then Adam Sandler showed up and I was like “oh my god adam sandler! I’ve watched Happy Gilmore like 20,000 times!” and he was like “oh, tell me more about the movies I made that were a mistake”. I told him I also liked Billy Madison and Click was “neat”, but I felt embarrassed for not knowing more of his movies (and secretly thinking the later ones suck). I noticed that there were a lot of people in the house that seemed to come with Adam Sandler. They all sort of gathered together around a table, then that hot guy gathered together with a bunch of girls that Adam Sandler brought along, and they all sang a song about being just friends.

I left the house and just wandered around, the streets seemed to be filled with people who were just sitting around them. I walked up the street a ways past some not so obvious turns around all the people, I didn’t even think about where I was going. After a ways of walking I found my father sitting on a step with a rather medieval looking helmet armor over his head (it was rather long, a dark brownish rusted looking metal, rather flat on the top and pointed in a triangular shape where the bottom and top met in the middle). He and I walked through a marketplace. He handed me a gun, it was a pretty gun, a sort of dirty yellowish color which was all metal, and a revolver. It fit nicely in a leather holster on my hip. I struggled for a while to find the safety, there seemed to be two safety buttons. The safety was on and I pointed it at the ground and it wouldn’t fire.

I was trying to find the second safety when it started sparking and smoking and I threw it on the ground. it started to slide down a small sloped incline and I ran away and ducked for cover. My dad seemed to stand there trying to wave people away. I don’t remember the gun going off, however I remember some fake medical information pertaining to my dad appearing in front of my face (he doesn’t have diabetes), then appeared with a bandage wrapped around his face and I was sitting in front of some sort of person who was saying it was saying something vague about something being against the law, something about throwing the gun into public drinking water or something. Then I woke up with the sound of why can’t we be friends by war playing through my head, reminiscent of the song sang by the group of people at the house, but different because the song they sang was about just being friends.

That concludes the dream. It was strange because I went to bed feeling really depressed and awful. I didn’t feel that way throughout the dream, but somehow like a fugue by bach, it was able to go through these counter points as if it was playing a song, and bring it back to the original feeling I had when I went to bed. It’s as if my brain was conducting an orchestrated event, without the beauty accompanying music. I woke up feeling similar to how I felt before I went to bed, because somehow my brain tied together a series of upsetting images that perpetuated the feeling, as if my brain designed this sad and stupid series of scenes itself just to make me feel as shitty as when I woke up as when I went to bed.

Hoy de hoy de hoy de hoy de hoy.

THPPPPP THPPPPPPP THPPPPPPP

Secular Sevens?

More like Secular Pseuds lmao

Refute them.

OUTRAGEOUS
INTELLIGENT
SASSY
CHRISTOPHER HITCHENS