“Let me out, you bitch!” I screamed, throwing myself at the door.

1. “Dude, that’s your mom.”

1A. “I don’t care. She’s keeping us here. *Starving* us.”

1B. “She doesn’t want you going out, finding your own brains, possibly killing a family with small children.”

1C. “You *have* been playing a lot of video games lately. Maybe she has a legitemate reason to worry.”

2. The nurse turned her head. Her eyes met mine. The lipstick red slash of her mouth curled up.

2A. I felt a cold chill. I was never going home.

2B. “Go back to bed. You’ll get your meds in an hour.”

2C. Her uniform was pristine, either a perfect recreation of an old-timey nurse’s uniform, or an expensively maintained original. It sent a chill down my spine to see it. What kind of person had kidnapped me? Where was I?

3. Everything had gone wrong. I should have turned the job down the minute I got those first details.

‘Sometimes I feel as though my mind moves too fast for me to ever catch up. I am a fisherman lost on a timeless sea.’ – Blake turned to give her a long looking over. “You really wrote this?”

Fancy shrugged. “What’s the big deal? So I like to write prose. So what?”

“Are you sure you’re using that right?”

“Huh?” Fancy cocked her head.

“Are you sure you’re using the word ‘prose’ right?” (He loved to watch her squirm. He could see the growing confusion on her face. The fear.)

“Pretty sure.” Fancy laughed. “Could you imagine? Maybe I have been walking around saying it wrong this whole time. Oh well. Who the fuck cares, right?”

“Right.”

“Come on, let’s get you something to eat. You look famished.” She rested her hand on his arm and ushered him out of the room. Her palm was firmly pressed against his shirt; he felt it like a brand. “I tried making this new kickin’ teriyaki recipe that I think you’re going to love. You can be my taste tester.”

The conversation restarted behind them.

I accidentally touched my arm to the meat thermometer sticking out of the turkey I was baking and burnt myself. I went to the First Aid kit for gauze, tape, and some antibiotic cream, and I noticed we were running low on basic supplies.

I regularly buy boxes of regular sized bandaids, but sometimes you need something a little larger or specific. And you should always have some kind of antibiotic ointment you can smear on your cuts and small burns.

Basic First Aid supplies I need to resupply:

children’s Benadryl — this is great if you’re not completely sure of dosages or if you have small people visiting. You don’t have to worry so much about messing up. In the liquid form, you can pour it in your mouth. Great if you’re mowing the lawn and you react to some weird grass.

regular Benadryl — sometimes a dose of Benadryl when effects start keeps your from having to visit an urgent care clinic. Seriously, when I had my allergic reaction to Nesquik, it hit me with tingling lips and took several hours to escalate to sores around my mouth and a swollen face. If I’d just taken some Benadryl, I would have stopped everything with no problems and no doctor’s visit.

Cortizone anti-itch cream – this stuff is great to have available, because when you need it you don’t want to have to run to the store.

It’s a good idea to check over your First Aid kit a few times a year. If you’ve got other people in your house or life, there’s a good chance someone will have an “emergency” and ravage through your supplies. “Oh, I have a headache. I’m going to use the emergency medicine in this First Aid kit and … Read the rest “Time to resupply the First Aid kit”

The idea that the long-term survival goal of humanity is to leave the frakking planet is ludicrous.

There are people out there, right now, that honestly think we should build ark ships in preparation for our inevitable leave-taking. Because we are such cancers on the planet that we’re going to have to flee it like a bad party. After we make sure to double-decker the only toilet and fuck the 99% of people we leave behind, they can pee outside.

And I use “we” in the loosest sense because I’m enough of a realist to know that I’m not going to be one of the lucky folk leaving the planet. I mean, I need glasses to see, I’ll be outside the age bracket before anybody goes anywhere, and my “higher education” involves trying shrooms that one time and freaking out for what felt like two years but was probably only three episodes of The Venture Brothers, which I thought was a good cartoon watching choice for my first hallucinatory journey.

What I’m saying is, I’m not going anywhere. And neither are you.

Like come on, 900-year-old billionaire, they’re really going to take your old ass to space? How fucking useless are you going to be for the future of humanity? “My skills include avoiding corporate accountability and fucking young people for money. You totally need me because, you know, reasons.” No dude, you ain’t going anywhere either, and neither are your grandkids, because they’re probably going to be just as useless as you are.

If I was one of the planners for humanity’s last journey, I would gladly take your money and accept your children/grandchildren/great-grandchildren aboard my ark. Then two minutes out of Earth orbit I’d dump them and they’re genetic contributions out the nearest airlock because isn’t … Read the rest “The idea that the long-term survival goal of humanity is to leave the frakking planet is ludicrous”

Through a window darkly gazing
At a sight afraid to see
Breathing deep the salted water
Dreaming dreams, of you and me.