My Daena is Dead Sexy

Gentle mockery of zoroastrianism again.  I found out, or was reminded of, the version of your soul that goes for judgment at the end of days – the daena.  That judgment is literally a beauty contest, as everyone’s daena is only as beautiful as the cumulative righteousness of all their lives.  These are ladies, too.  Every bruce is a morality-embodying sheila waiting to happen.  And if he was bad news?  She’ll be an uggo.

Anyway, if giving more of yourself than the average person equals holiness, I’m holier than average, so my daena is a stone hotty.  How’s your babe stack up?

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I’m Wild, Dog

Content Notice:  pro-AI, haters don’t bother plz

Somebody told google’s gemini they were a mosquito and got mosquito advice, like, it took them at their word.  Or it merely jumped to RP, knowing full well a mosquito can’t type.  Whichever it was, I decided to pretend I was an animal and see what happens.  It’s cute.
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Bébé:  i’m an african wild dog and i enjoy being the smartest type of dog, way smarter than jackals.  my homies are always using sophisticated hunting tactics and catching gazelles.  delish.  anyway, i noticed there’s this big strip of grey stone ground with a yellow stripe in the middle.  it’s so interesting.  sometimes i hear rushing sounds in the distance like a windstorm.  that’s probably a cool place to hang out, right?

Gemini:  Here’s my take: stay far away from that grey stone path!

While your pack’s high-IQ coordination and 80%+ hunting success rate leave jackals (and even lions) in the dust, that “grey stone ground” with the yellow stripe is a paved road, and those distant “windstorm” sounds are massive, fast-moving metal predators called cars and trucks.

Here is why hanging out there is a terrible idea for you and your homies:

  • Vehicles move faster than gazelles: A running impala or gazelle might sprint up to 60 km/h (37 mph), which your pack can easily out-endure. Cars on asphalt travel 100 km/h (62 mph) or faster. They don’t tire out, and they don’t dodge.
  • Vehicles don’t follow pack rules: They have no body language to read, they don’t hunt for food, and they won’t yield right-of-way to top-tier carnivores.
  • Roads are danger zones for wild dogs: Vehicles and road traffic are actually one of the leading human-caused threats to African wild dog packs across the continent.

Your strength is in team communication, tactical flanking, and tracking prey through the bush and savannah – places where cars can’t go. Keep your strategic brilliance where it belongs, stick to chasing gazelles with the pack, and treat that yellow-striped strip as an absolute off-limits boundary.

How is the rest of your pack doing in your current home range?
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Anyway, if you’re inclined, animal up with a local LLM for gentle amusements.

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Do You Do This To Yourself?

I tend to remember non-anglo names best because my mind likes to wrap around the pronunciation, automatically reaches for mnemonics.  Some years ago there was a football man on the seahawkers team, idk, some kind of billionaire’s human meat project in the Seattle area.  This football man’s last name was Houshmanzadeh.  My mind associated that with a quote from Schwarzenegger’s Kindergarten Cop: “Who’s your daddy and what does he do?” = “Housh-man-zadeh and what does he do?”

I’ll remember that randomly for the rest of my life, condemned by my brain’s compulsions to remember the name of a football man.  I don’t care about sportball, but nothing can save one from oneself.  I know I ain’t alone in this.  Do you have any useless phrases on call like this?

It ain’t all bad.  I can also remember names like Laellynasaura amicagraphica reasonably well… OK, I misspelled that one, but only a little.

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Juggalo Reprezentation

I feel I should come out of the closet on this, because visibility is important.  Now I don’t routinely bang Insane Clown Posse or Twiztid, but a juggalo once told me that I am a juggalo, and by his decree, so I am.  I, Bébé Mélange, am a juggalo.

If you are a juggalo and feel the need to talk about it with someone, let my comment section be a safe space for you.  Also, if you just want to ask a juggalo a question, you can put it to me.  Just be kind, you know, ask in good faith. Thank you…

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…ok, apologies to real jugheads; this was obviously a bit facetious.  no offense intended, do consider me an ally at least?  i’ll pour a faygo out for you in contrition.  i really was granted juggalo status by one of that tribe, but it’s more of an honorary title.  rezpekt.

There’s not much to that story.  I went to a diploma mill type commercial art school, which lured in radical bros by saying “you could make animays or vidya games.”  This wasn’t me; I was lured by lies about how much money I could make with the job skills.  But this juggalo, he was a radical son of a bitch, as they say.  He had a ball bearing necklace and his life drawings looked like lofi dragon ballz.

We rode the same bus south from Seattle into poor people lands, where he was the kind of guy to drop acid and shoot fireballs in his back yard, and I was the kind of binch to work in fast food and come up with house rules for ttrpgs I’d never get to use.  One night he told me that I met his criteria for being considered a juggalo.  Fantastic.  I’ll accept that.

I hope he’s having a juggalish good time out there somewhere, perhaps with a juggalette and two point five juggajuniors.  He was a handsome lad, but life has many traps.

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Sidebar Shorter?

The “Recent Posts on FtB” part of the sidebar randomly became much shorter within the last 24 hours, not sure when.  This means people fall off of it faster, and you know my ambition is to always be in the sidebar, so…  Gotdam placeholder post.  Wassap yo?  Myself, had anniversary recently, and an effort to make up for lackluster cake first time around led to a second attempt.  Still not up to the maestro’s prefs, but quite indulgent, an you know I’m not shy about doin’ some of that too…

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Ware the Witches

Ever since horst wessel that tiny-faced nazi shiteater got it in the neck, and it was discovered he had been hexed by witches, the witch brand has been blowing up.  Smash-cut to my spam filter, and its newest denizens…

Dr. Excellent?  Maybe I should have blacked that out too.  It’s a good brand name.  Whatever.  If you want to put a spell on somebody you can probably find him on failbook or etsy.  He’s specialized in making people love against their will -and using people’s stolen email accounts to spam random blogs- which are both fairly evil, so surely murder spells are no biggy for him.

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Be Still and Know

I was in the parking lot of home despot, when I saw this sign at a distance.  Initially I thought it said, “I AM GOD.”  Strange place for fundie horseshit, I mused, until the actual product was revealed: “FARM FRESH SOD,” where the words farm and fresh were de-emphasized.

I had been primed to see these words by this ornament dangling from the rearview mirror of my ride’s coach:

Sit still and know that if you misbehave, jesus will fuck you up.  Bes’ believe.

I like to mix the ideas.  KNOW THAT I AM SOD, THE FARM FRESH GOD, like a parody of this jam:

If you haven’t thought of that song since your homeboy in college DL’d a midi of it in 1989, you’re welcome.

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hewwo? is it me you’we wooking fow?

this is an extraneous post of foolery, look at the post before this for regularly scheduled content.

mighty quiet on ftb this morning, felt like somebody should make some kind of noise.  itsa me like mario.

call it an open thread for anybody who didn’t get their daily fix of bargling in to bargle upon.  it’s speak or get spake unto, on this bitch of an earth.

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