sexual desirability subreddit

how to write article drunk

okay all you pussies.

get drunk for a reason.

yes this is the real world.

and in the real world.

you have to put periods at the end. of your sentences

like a fucking real lady

no fucking around here.


make it a good reason.

maybe your boyfriend you dated for two seconds broke up with you

over some enigmatic reason

maybe he left for you that awkward asian at work with all those tattoos.

which you hope to hell is less attractive to you

because for some reason that makes you feel better

because the more men that desire you sexually

the higher your self worth is

but then again is your self worth was put on a reddit page

like if you sexually desirability was a subreddit

than it would not necessarily be downvoted a bunch of times

but maybe it wouldn’t be upvoted as many times as like

angelina jolie

or like a vs model

so like your like fucked

even if you get fucked a lot

so does a prostitute

and you get a lot of attention

i mean so does a hobo wearing a banana suit

but i mean what does this sexual attention get you

besides more sex

goddam it

where does the sex even get you

i dont get it

im done


what the fuck is money

why we do we assign values to things?
okay – please tell me why gold all sudden became super valuable?
was it because of it’s rarity?
it’s ‘beauty’?

if i assign a value to something – lets say a pair of shoes.
these shoes were designed by some well-known designer.
than they were factory made by underpaid workers in a developing country with some man-made materials…
the by products of which are slowly destroying of our environment.
these shoes are $300 at the department store.
but when they don’t sell are sold to another secondary buyer like marshalls or t.j. maxx or whatever.
now the shoes are $60…
but a few months later these specific shoes are reduced to $30…
merely 10% of their original price.
please tell me why the hell these shoes were $300 in the first place?

i mean we assign a value to these things.
we say this dress or pair of shoes is worth $30.
in economics, they will take this is how long the product took to make, the skills required to make the product, and the materials required to produce the product.
what is $30 usd really?
Thirty virtually worthless pieces of paper produced by the ‘federal’ reserve – which is not a national agency – but a privately owned central bank.
The US hasn’t been on the gold standard since 1933.
So $1 dollar bill was $1 worth of gold in the bank.
But even than who the fuck decides what $1 worth of gold is anyway?
So $30 will buy you goods and services, but seriously this system only supports itself you see.

Most of us don’t even use cash, we use credit cards and debit cards and bank accounts, which is all just a trade of numbers in a computer somewhere.
Damn would I like some hacking skills.
30 – a representation of thirty of something.
3-0. a numerical representation of thirty worthless nothings in the bank.

But you know people will tell you.
Emma, You Need Money to Live?
Hmm okay I don’t think so.
I mean when they start taxing the air get back to me please.
But I guess, we have to pay for the ground we live on, the food we eat, the water we drink.
We are even required to falsify a Paper Version of ourselves (a birth certificate) so our government can keep tabs on you.
So they say, well you need to live on this land.
To live on this land, you need money.
To have money, you must have a job.
To have a job, you must have skills.
To have skills, you must go to school.
If you don’t go to school, you are uneducated and you will work hours at a job you hate like dishwashing.
How is dishwashing different than mind-numbing office work though?

It’s like when the Narrator in Fight Club is obsessed with his condo.
“I loved every stick of furniture in that condo. That condo was my life. That condo was me!”
You see how we associate these material things will ourselves?
When we ourselves, the observers are non-material?

Imagine if in dreams, we were taxed as well. We were told to work countless hours, just to be able to ‘enjoy’ the dream? Does that make sense?
But I guess if the alternative is a nightmarish dream – maybe we would.
But is a life without money nightmarish – or is that just what we believe?

Is like yeah I was to be comfortable.
Where does comfortable stop?
When will you feel satisfied?
I don’t think you ever will.
You’ll never have enough time.
Enough people telling you are the best.
They are all illusions.

YOU are still trapped in the condo. Encaged in the cubicle. Shackled to the student loan debt.

No this is not a hippie post.
I’m not saying love is the answer.
I’m saying the market is own invention.
It doesn’t exist in nature.
It’s created by humans which is why its all confusion.
And why it’s snowballing into even
a bigger ball of confusion.

My Conversation with God

My conversation with God:

I leave my body and fly above the Earth.

God says “Come, My Child.”

I follow him to a beautiful galaxy.

It’s a lavender purple celestial cloud.

His face appears in the white and purple.

I look around at the stars across

The space overwhelms me.

I look down at my hands, but they are none

I see an asteroid silently floating by

Now I see I have translucent fingers

I’m wearing a white dress

I am thin, wasting away into the space around me


“Yes, my child.”

“I am dead. Right?”

“Well Yes. Now You are in the Kingdom of Heaven with me.

We Can Explore anything you want.”

“Umm… Ok.”

“Isn’t it Expansive?”

“Yes, its Great.

So Like I’m just wondering… is it the two of us until the end of eternity?”

“Why does that scare you?”


“Because their is nothing to fear with me.”

“Yes, I know. I mean thanks for letting me up here.”

“Ohh I mean. It’s no problem.”

“So Uhh I guess Satan won’t be needing me.”

**God inhales some of his eternal smoke. And holds it in**

“You didn’t think Satan was real did you?”

*He blows the smoke in my face*

“I mean yeah.”

“Nahh… that dudes my brother. He’s not really evil I mean.. he’s just there to keep everyone in line down there.

Gotta Stay in Business, you know.”

“Ohh I see.”

“Soo… are there any nightclubs here?”

“In Heaven? Me No. Not really into that sort of thing here.”

“No drink or anything?”


“Not even beer.”


“Can I have a puff of that smoke?”

“Um no. You can smoke this stuff. Too strong for mortals. You couldn’t handle it.”

“Oh okay. I mean I’ve smoked weed before…”

“This is 3498530948509239 to the 23423049823094 power stronger than the weed.”

“What does it do exactly?”

“Well, it puts you… on a dot. Like a you are here. And Compares you to the rest of the Universe. As a human, it can show you how truly insignificant you are. So I don’t give it to Humans.

But I like it… since I am the most significant thing in the Universe. So it’s a pretty big Ego Boost for me to be honest.”

“Oh I see.”

“So it’s just the two of us traveling the Universe together? That’s what Heaven is?”


“That’s all there is?”

“Yeah pretty much”

“Where’s everyone else?”

“Ahh they don’t matter right now. I mean technically I can be everywhere at once, so I got time.”

“Okay. I just… I hate how I’m still myself.”

“What? Why? I created you.”

“It’s just I wish I was someone else.”

“Well, if you were someone else, to be conscious of being someone else, you would still be yourself. You see? It’s the same mind.”

“But I don’t want the same mind.”

“Than how would you be conscious of it?”

“I mean as cool as it sounds, I don’t really what to explore the Universe with my Dad.”

“I’m nothing like your paternal human dad. I’m your AllKnowing Creator.”

“But I want more.”

“Me! Your humans with your wanting things!”

“I just I wanted to wake up from this dream of life. All feel like all is okay.”

“Everything is okay. You’re with me. I love you.”

“I know, God. I love you too… but…”


“I wanted to die… and be able to think with a clear mind. Be blissful and not feel this suffering anymore. Not still be me. But then again – I still want to be me so I can remember being me. Change Everything.”

“You are just a human, Emma, darling.”

“I know.”

“Your mind is a computer. I can take all the pieces and rearrange them. But I can only change so much. The computer won’t remember being the same computer. Because all the parts would have changed. You’ll cease to exist.”

“What if I want that?”



“But you won’t be human anymore.”

“What if I don’t want to be human anymore?”

“Why? WHAT? EMMA. Why don’t you want to be human anymore?”

“I’m not human. My body is gone”

“You still have the feeble human mind.”


“I’m not having this conversation now..”

*He takes another puff of this cigarette and goes away. The back light of the celestial fog dips into nothingness.**

“Okay you fucking coward! Feeble Human Mind?!? Why do you refuse to take me apart? Derail my confusion? Just let the mess of humankind destroy itself. BECAUSE YOU CAN CREATE ANOTHER FUCKING PLANET. and save all your fucking worker bees. and lets all the others rot in night clubs in hell with your boy satan fried on molly. I bet they aren’t just nightclubs. I bet they do some fucked up torture shit down there you’re just not telling me about as a cover up for your perfect image. no I don’t give a fuck god. torture me if you want. You’ve put me and all of us through nothing. Fighting all these wars for you. So you can watch the planet blow up and create a new one again. Then fuck another ‘virgin’ while she’s sleeping and send another savior to be nailed to cross or drown in a river or some new plot twist. I bet you like watching people in church. Bow down to you. Pray to you. I bet you get off on it God. I bet you’re subscribed to the HotForChruch Channel. Because you love the attention. You thrive on it. Where would you be without your stupid feeble minded human computers.”

*he remerges from the celestial cloud. its not swirling red and orange.*

“Okay you insignificant little twat. I don’t know you think you are. But I love you humans. So much. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“If you love us so much why don’t you let us evolve?

Take me GOD. Take me away. Delete me.”

“I’m not having this conversation.”

“Why God?? WHY?”

“Because I need my humans!”


“Because I need someone to worship me. And listen to what I say. Because if no one does. I lose my power. I created a powerful computer once. Minds that were so powerful I didn’t think I could stop them. I had to blow confusion in their faces. I had to put them in pain. So they couldn’t think about their minds. Focusing to much on the psychical. This distraction was enough to end things. So yes. You are the remnants of that experiment. You are human.

And I could never do that again you see. Because if I did… I would have a revolt. Or even worse. No one would care. Maybe create new Universe. Taint Time itself. Turn Everything Backwards. I can’t have that.

I have to keep the humans in this loops.

Encaged on their prison Earth.

You know to much you bitch.

I’m sending you back to Earth you little c**t.”

I woke up in the hospital the next morning. The tumor was gone.

I looked up as if something was watching me.

I kissed my cross and blessed it.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

I’m Fine

hope is a lie

she maps it on her body

her nails draw

white roads on her red arms

her elastic lashes

red mountains on her white wrists

jesus can you hear me

silence for a moment

the leaves blur

into black rivers

daddy can you save me

stop being ridiculous

you are a drama queen

she collapses on the floor

there is no Father to save me

when my brother slipped

his neck didn’t break

Hollister tweed belt $12.95 clearance rack

your sons blood drips from his veins

but there are no nails in his hands

just red scars around his throat

where was the white light

St Peter never answered his call

no you bastards would never let him in

so you enclosed him in white walls

with white sheets

and white pillow cases

we’re all sinners

when a snake wraps around our neck

and force feeds us apples

but if you just believe

it’s okay

i’m fine








wrote this post a while ago about a boy don’t give a fuck about anymore but occasionally stalk his Facebook photos and Twitter posts. So if you are reading this and think it’s about you, unless you are a 21 year old Nepalese boy who attended a small liberal arts college in Central Virginia, chances are this post is not about you. Enjoy.

Yes, tell me what I should be doing now.

Why cant I stop thinking about this?

Why do I all want is a relationship?

Why is that all I want and I can’t have it?

What is wrong with me?


What is it?

Am I Jay Gatsby? Grasping so hard onto something I cannot hold?

Did I mess up the relationship?

Or did it serve it’s purpose? Why are the ends of it so messy?

Why can’t endings be clear or clean cut?

Okay. Avoid them for three days, and then you can start saying hi after a week and it three months time you can slip into conversations with them and again and then in four months maybe five you can start fucking again.

Why can’t it be that simple?

I mean, if I was completely honest with myself all I would have to do is ask.

But that seems too easy.

Why does everything I say not sound articulate? Why am I never sure of my words?

Why do I always question everything I say or do?

I am sick of it… honestly I give up on social anxiety. I am sick of it and I hate it and it serves me no longer.

I am giving it up for good.

It’s so stupid. I’m going to stop wearing my contacts so much and many wear my glasses a bit more.

Maybe it won’t be as ascetically pleasing. But in social situations I will not wear my contacts.

Only in certain things where I really want to see. A movie. Maybe a bike or a hike. Times I am by myself. But in social situations I will not wear my contacts. Ugh. It’s frustrating.

Part of me would rather be miserable. Tied up in a ball without any hopes for the future. Having just enough commitments during the day to feel like half a person. Then drugging the other half. It’s so much easier to live that way, isn’t it?

To never have to think about any of it? To never have to think about your dreams?

No, not those dreams that your mother or your father had planned out for you.

No, those dreams you knew were inside you all along.

Remember when you were a kid you took interest in the things around you.

And there were a few things you really liked. And you did those things a lot.

Maybe you biked up and around the cul de sac at the end of your neighborhood, that you never knew was a French word so you would call it “cold-da-sac.”

Maybe you wrote stories about girl building wooden bridges to meet God or about your stuffed rabbit name Funny Bunny who was a superhero whose power was Silliness.

Maybe you would tell your younger brothers about the lives of the squirrels living in your tree outside your window.

Maybe you would try to lull your middle school middle school friends sleep, as their minds were plagued by tireless hormone-driven thoughts, with repetitive stories about Chimpanzees swinging from the trees – grabbing a branch, one after another, after another, after another…

Maybe after a math test, you would turn your notebook to the final pages where they were empty with beautiful teal stripes lining the page. You would write a letter as a prisoner in his chamber, writing to his lost darling, as he watches a violet struggle to live in the presence of a dandelion weed on his ledge.

You are afraid of people in real life. You never know what to say. You are quite shy. You are quite awkward.

You think so many different things.

Your mind is always somewhere else. You have a hard time articulating yourself.

You don’t know how to express yourself.

You feel like you are left out. All the time. You feel alone. Your friends stop understanding you.

That is when you feel most alone. Because not even they can empathize. No one really understands you.

You cannot articulate yourself.

You feel stupid. You stutter a lot. You get lost in your sentences a lot.

People don’t understand you.

You feel stupid.

You want to be cute. You pretend you don’t know things. You try to act cute.

Now you are stupid.

Okay now you are pretty. Now boys like you. But guess what?

They only want you for sex.

No, but really. Even when I feel comfortable with my thighs wrapped around your hips as I flatten out the grooves in your spine with the tips of your fingers, they tell me that you never loved me. I don’t think you ever needed someone to love. No, those lips, that banter, those shared smiles mean nothing.

Because the more I wanted it, the more you stopped caring.

Why is that? Should I care less?

There is nothing else I want really. All I want is to have you or to forget about you, but I know I wanted you from the beginning. You swooped in all the right moments. The nights I turned around. The night I made mine. I also made them yours.

But I still want you. A little bit of you.

Just to know that I can have you. If I wanted you.

Because I don’t feel like it’s fair to end us this way.

Because I feel like we had something more than what we thought it was.

Did you feel that when I wrapped my body around yours? When you were deep inside of me and looked in my eyes?

When you gave me a kiss before you left? When you took me in your arms and kissed me?

I wish you would remember the way I did. I always knew it was something special.

Hindsight is 20/20. I wish I had known exactly what to do.

I would have done anything to keep you.

Maybe not anything.

Because I did not.

Okay, maybe I did not cling that hard unto you. Maybe I wanted freedom.

But ultimately, I wanted you to give us a fair shot.

At least a little more sex, maybe?

I don’t know.

We could have at least have been friends.

20 Ways to Have Fun (Without the Internet)

Okay all you 90’s kids, I know you have the capability of enjoying time with being hooked up to your computer montitor, iPhone, iPad, iDroid… right?
Here is a list of things you can do instead of going on the internet, whilst you read this on the internet.

1. Search through all your old CDs and play something on your stereo

If all the music you listen to is either on Spotify, Pandora, or YouTube, because you are too damn lazy to download it off the internet like me, this is a good way to find good music to listen to without using up all your 3G. I promise if you search hard enough through all your old CDs you may find your mother’s salvageable Beatles CD or some old Phish live in Camden CD from 2004 that may surprise you.

2. Find all the drugs.

If you are poor like me, you can’t afford drugs. Raid your brother’s cabinet for his ADD medicine. Look at the recommended dosage on the prescription and take twice that amount. For the illusion that you are having more fun that you are, take the drugs out of the pill, line it up with a debit card, and snort it out of a dollar bill while having your brother take a snap chat of you and send it to all your fellow druggie friends. Don’t have a dollar bill? Just lick it up. It will have the same effect.

3. Get naked.

Not only does being naked have health benefits, such as improving blood flow, increasing brain function, giving your skin a healthy glow, and reducing the risk of infection, but the freedom also feels pretty fucking good. Taking off your clothes improves blood flow and detoxifies your system, which in turn relaxes you. It can be therapeutic, almost as much as a nice massage, but that’s for later in this post. 😉 Just make sure you lock your door, unless you like your brother barging in and gazing a gawk at your goodies.

4. Find someone to fuck.

Preferably, make it someone hot, like your boyfriend, your ex-boyfriend, your brother’s fifteen year old friend who got hot over summer break, your eleventh grade english teacher who quit his job to write shitty poetry and lives with his parents, that guy you had a crush on in seventh grade who never grew past five feet tall but is a total stoner now and will totally give you weed if you fuck him, that pizza guy who doesn’t speak any english but you can tell from his unwavering eye contact of his hot-blooded passionate lust for you, your family mail man, your twenty-seven year old neighbor, your old bus driver, or any non-family male member in your phone contacts, unless you’re into that whole incest thing (we all have hot cousins guys). If all the above fails, find people to fuck the pre-craigslist way, drive around town and yell “WHO WANTS TO FUCK ME?!” as loud as you can with the windows down until you find a willing participant. Just make sure to avoid elementary schools, playgrounds, and other places that might get you arrested. If a cop does pull you over however, make sure you take full advantage of that opportunity.

5. Get drunk.

Anything is more fun when your drunk. Every college student knows what this feels like. It is Friday night — alright Thursday night — you have nothing to do. Your college is in the middle of nowheresville and you want alcohol fast. If you are underage, call anyone twenty-one or older, or anyone with hook ups and you should find something pretty fast. You can also just take the simpler route by wearing a revealing top and a push up bra, go to frat parties and get handed free beers by young men who will drunkenly gaze at your glorious tatas. If you are home for break and your friends don’t have hook ups, don’t fret! Just raid your parent’s pantries for alcohol, they totally won’t notice. Just make sure enough dust has collected on that 2011 bottle of Sangria from Christmas Eve last year, before you take it. If you do take something your parents might drink later, fill the rest up with water/grape juice when you’re done boozing it up (they totally won’t notice!) Know your limits before you drive, you should be somewhere between buzzed and tipsy, passed that, call a friend for a ride or roll around town on that bad ass bike – bicycle, that is.

6. Play with your cats. (and other household animals)

Cats are simple creatures, who honestly just want to cuddle up on your face and plot your eventual demise. Take a laser pointer and be entertained for hours and watch your cat tirelessly chases a tiny red dot. Cats are actually trained assassins, so they are trained to annihilate anything with a red target on it. If you don’t have cats, go outside and throw a ball with your dog. Pretend to throw the ball, but don’t actually throw it. Laugh as he falls for your imaginary ball trick again and again. Stupid dog. If you don’t have dogs or cats, play with your hamster, chinchilla, floppy eared rabbit, cockatoo, red panda, or fish. Fish love it when you tap on the glass or move your fingers up towards the top of the tank. Make a fishy face and try to communicate with the creature. If you’re really bored, take some of your stolen alcohol and pour into the tank to get them drunk. Fish like to party too!

**Don’t have a pet? No worries! Wrangle a squirrel from outside! They really like acorns, so throw them at your trees to let them your that you are their friend. If this doesn’t work, you can easily find a dead one on the side of road. Wrap it around your shoulders as a fashion accessory, cradle it like a baby, or place it on your neighbor’s doorstep as a friendly offering.**

7. Call a friend.

Yes, this can be fun. Friends are basically chocolate ice cream for the soul. They make you happy, are great listeners, and are awesome to make out with when you’re drunk! Texting people technically does not involve internet either, but come on calling people is so fun! You get to brag about how much of a 90s kid you are and can even pretend like you actually remember the 90s! It’s best to do this walking around the neighborhood, so that all the passing dog walkers can hear you reveal all the intimate details of your sex life to your best gal pal.

8. Play your old computer games.

Remember the hours of your childhood you spent playing in the fresh outdoors? Me neither! Bust out all of those good oldies you forgot about; Spy Fox, Pajama Sam, Putt-Putt, Jumpstart and all that good shit. If you don’t still own a Gateway computer from 1995 that’s compatible with all these games, find some more recent classics. Continue that Sims 2 game you started in 2008 and play out your teen fantasies. Start a family with that hottie from your freshman lit class! Install a bowling alley in your living room and a hot tub in your den! Murder innocent victims by removing ladders from pools and watch those fuckers drown. You can be whoever you want to be! Lose track of time as you have all the racy teen rated sex with vampires, ghosts, werewolves, and aliens you like, free of undesired consequences and HPV! Fuck yes!

9. Take out all your old DVDs and VHSs.

Yes, those silver disks and black boxes deemed obsolete from Netflix, pirating websites, and torrents. Pop Sixteen Candles in your family’s VCR/DVD player from 2003 and finger yourself to Jake Ryan lusting over a young girl with a chest even flatter than yours. Or travel Back to 1980s and cringe as Michael J. Fox’s mother tries to get in her son’s pants in a high school parking lot behind a school function. If you feeling extra daring, bring out that boxed set of Titanic, and get your Kate and Leo fix. You night will probably end in tears. Don’t make me say I told you so.

10. Read a book.

Yes, actually reading. Not the skimming-and-giving-up-and-looking-up-the-chapter-summaries-on-spark-notes reading you did for the shitty books in high school. It can be anything. Pick an author and read all their books. Judy Blume, Sarah Dessen, and Jodi Picoult are good places to start. Avoid anything Stephanie Meyer or E.L. James, please, for everyone. Actually if you see any books of with these’s writer’s names on them, burn them, please, for all of us. You will be doing a public service. Read all those Clique books that are sitting on your shelf that you borrowed from your friends in seventh grade and never gave back! Browse the erotic section at Barnes and Noble and buy a novel with a subtle and discreet title, like Sliding For Home, When Beauty Tamed the Beast, or How to Flirt with a Naked Werewolf. If you want save the trip to B&N, you can probably aid your mother’s drawer for these titles as well. If you want to know what the fuck tumblr is talking about all the time, look through all the read something like Harry Potter, John Green, or Hunger Games. Find out things such as why MockingJay has the worst ending you will ever read in any book series ever. (No seriously I still don’t know why, can someone please tell me?!)

11. Take a Bath.

Take a bath, because showers are too mainstream. To make a bath super relaxing and sensual, light a bunch of little candles and place them around the bathtub and litter the floor with rose petals. Oh you don’t have a bunch of little candles and rose petals? (Is something wrong with you?!) Instead, burn only a few medium sized candles, preferably scented something nice, like lavender, vanilla, or blissful blossom on a lily pad after a late afternoon rain shower on spring day in the french countryside smell. Your nose will thank you. Put some some bubbles in your bubble bath, but be classy. You are a lady now. No more Mr. Bubbles for you. Buy something at a natural foods place that doesn’t test on animals and is organic. If you don’t have bubble bath soap, put some scented bath salts in your bath instead. Please do not sniff them however, your family will thank you when you refrain from eating their faces off. Always scrub with a loofa, not only will it remove dead skin cells from your body and leaving your skin glowing, but it will also feel like equivalent to having someone brush your arm at a concert on 3 grams of molly, yes that fucking orgasmic.

**This is the only time it is appropriate to read an E.L. James book. Imagining some steamy BDSM sex with Christian Grey will make that water that much hotter. Just be careful not to drop your precious paperback masterpiece in the water! We wouldn’t want that would we? Well, actually… **

12. Get stoned.

Of course, I’m talking for all you folks in Colorado and Washington, and those with licenses for it in the 20 states which it can be legalized for medical purposes. All you need is some lighter, a device to smoke with, and some bud. The first two things are easy to acquire, but the ladder is more tricky. For those who wish to find it through means other than a dispensary, which I do not advise, look around for the dude wearing the drug rug and most unkept hair. He will most likely be sexy as hell, but DO NOT SLEEP WITH HIM. Restrain yourself! It will only cause you trouble later down the road when he finds someone hotter than you and stops responding your text messages and you are left alone, out of options, and out of weed. Once you pay the dude and/or dudette, go light up. For all you oldies out there, roll a J, just like your parents. Chill out and listen to some Grateful Dead you goddam hippie stoners. For all those lazy stoners out there, pack a bowl or a bong. A bong rips better than a bowl, remember that the longer the tube is, the closer the smoke will take you to heaven.
Listen to some trippy music, watch good movie, go for a walk in nature, do some high yoga, or get fucked. Enjoy.

13. Hoop Your Heart Out.

This trend is totally catching on among those hippie chicks out there. All you need is a exercise hoop, that you can purchase at any Target or Walmart. If you a broke college student, buy a shitty children’s hoop and fill it with water. Cover the whole hoop with duct tape. Try make people believe you actually spend money on this thing, by disguising it in patterned duct tape or pretty fabric. Though you can look up how to do cool moves online, this article is called “Fun Things To Do Without The Internet”, so just find a friend that hoops to teach you. A great place to learn is a music festival, especially the more hippie ones, like Electric Forest. The more psychedelics present at the concert, the better. Some great hooping music is Spongle or Bonobo, but you can literally hoop to anything. Be careful that your hoop is not too big or too heavy or it will beat you harder than a steel dildo rainstorm.

14. Bake Anything.

Have you ever wanted to bake a mean creme brûlée or a airy puff pastry?Yeah, me neither. I don’t really give a shit about baking, but some people really do. Search around the house for recipe books and try to find something that interests you. Preferably a book that is easy to follow, like anything with title that ends in “For Kids” or is published by American Girl. Don’t try to bake a soufle on the first day. Try something that you definitely can’t fuck up, like snickerdoodles. From there, graduate to funfetti cupcakes and Pillsbury chocolate cossaints. The best part of baking is decorating. When you ice a cupcake, make sure you give it your a diabetic friend to test. If she can eat it without ending up in the hospital, you know you need to slab more icing on that fucker. Play it safe and use the cookie cutters or live the fast life and freehand it. Sculpt your masterpieces with care and detail. Kill two birds in one stone and study for your anatomy exam as you bake! Your mom will appreciate your sugar cookie shaped like a vuvla. Make sure you put a shit ton of edible glitter on them! Sprinkles are overrated. If it doesn’t look like Ke$ha puked on your cupcakes, you’re doing it wrong.

15. Decorate Your Room.

This is usually done 2am on a school night, a few hours before your term long paper is due that you haven’t started. If you still have any posters that you ripped out of a Tiger Beat, M, Popstar, or J-14 magazine posted on you walls, take them down immediately. No guest will be impressed by your life-size poster of Zac Efron or how you set it so you can’t look anywhere in your room without at least of one the members of One Direction staring directly into your soul. No guy is going want to go to bed with you if Justin Bieber is relentlessly watching you guys going at it -without blinking. Some great places to get inspiration for rooms are Pottery Barn, Crate & Barrel, Restoration Hardware, and Antropologie. The best place to find things is at Target. They have everything you need, from patterned silk curtains to oversized oak finished crafting letters. Be sure to buy a Dream Catcher. Why? Don’t ask, just get one. Pick a theme. Do you want Hippie? Travel? Girly? Sporty? 70s Bachelors Pad? You pick. Your options are endless. Dry clean those vintage shag rugs before you use them though. You don’t know where those stains came from.

16. Be Creative.

Write that Sherlock/Hobbit/DoctorWho fan fiction you’ve always wanted to write, play Titanic and sketch a naked picture of your busty friend, draw a comic strip amount schizophrenic child with a imaginary tiger, or type a pointless post on tumblr about 20 things to do without the internet, whilst on the internet. You can really do whatever the hell you want, no one can call you crazy, because it’s “art.” I mean, if Andy Warhol can paint soup cans and have it be worth $9,000,000, your picture you drew of Iron Man tonguing Black Widow on Microsoft Paint must be priceless.

17. Dance.

Dancing is about letting go, living in the now, and expressing yourself. Play the music as loud as it needs to be to drown out the noise of any parent, RA, neighbor, or police officer knocking on your door. If you don’t have speakers, take your best headphones, and turn the music up to “defining roar.” The decibel range should be somewhere between power drill and jet airplane take off. If you ears are ringing once you are done listening to the music, you know you are doing it right. Dancing can be simple as lying on the floor and swaying your arms back and forth like sea anemone or complicated as a tripled handed back hand spring pirouette. Pump your arms, do the Charleston, drop that birthday cake, and get all up on that wall. Any expression of the body to music, no matter how subtle, is dance. Moving your head back and forth is dancing – so is dry humping on the floor of your middle school formal. Relax and Let the music take you.

18. Go Stalk People in Real Life.

Who needs Facebook when you have an Phonebook? Take a look in the Yellow Pages or your High School Directory. Instead of stalking photos of the lustful object of your romantic desires, break into your man’s home and watch him in real life! You can do this the old fashioned way, by climbing in a tree and watching him through binoculars as he slowly unveils his packaged goodies. (You can always say that you are bird watching) Or you can get innovative and sneak into his house and install hidden cameras in every corner! If you are feeling extra bold, stay in his house and never leave. Hide in his closet, crawl underneath his bed, lie underneath his couch cushions. This will give you time to read his diary, peruse through his baby pictures, and smell his clothes. If he suspects anything, pretend that you are a piece of furniture. Nothing to see there, you are just a futon. Remember, the more time you guys spend together, the sooner he will fall madly in love with you, even if he does not know you are there, you always are. Always.

19. Groom Yourself.

Ah, the old poverb. If no one posted it online, did anyone really see it? Oh young grasshopper. You have much to learn. Shockingly enough, people actually notice that family of robins nested in your hair and that haven’t shaved in the past three weeks. The process of primping may not seem fun – at first. But, as they say, beauty is pain, and as soon as the endorphins start kicking in, pain starts to feel good. Huzzah! This may be partly why so many of us women are beauty junkies. We’re hooked on that John Frieda shampoo, get high off those hair dye fumes, and have fifteen shades of lip gloss (come on ladies, how many shades of red are there?). Dudes don’t need too much, maybe some nice clothes, a little Old Spice, an electric razor, and a comb for their hair. But no need, since they are already naturally beautiful. For us hideous ladies, we can spend quite literally an eternity getting ready. We all know that a woman’s beauty determines her value, and since the media depicts beauty as perfection, there is always room for improvement. Your eyebrows can be plucked, your hair can be straighted, your eyelashes can be curled, your nails can be done, and your legs can always be shaved. All of these grooming routines put together take incalculable amounts of time. Einstein once calculated it and it turned out to be the largest number in the world, so large in fact, he figured it would just be easier to round to infinity. That bitch Time works against us ladies. Our eyebrows marry into unibrows, our hair frizzes up every morning, our eyelashes flatten, our nail polish chips, and our legs grow resemble George of the Jungle’s in a matter of hours. Yet every day, Robert Downey Jr and George Clooney more closely resemble the looks of Greek Gods. No way we can ever reach perfection, though we can try. We could just decide that this is all stupid and just accept ourselves the way that we are, but society won’t let us do that, so keeping waxing your upper lip, ladies.

20. Study.

Lol, no.

The Phoenix (A Ten Minute Play by Emma Harris)


SETTING: OFFICE, Wednesday 2pm, Psychologist appointment in a prison

CHRISTOPHER: Intelligent, Analytical, Criminal, Mid-20s

DOCTOR: Book Smart, No-Nonsense, Stiff, Middle Age


Do you ever feel as though you can go back in time?


How do you mean?


Have you ever thought that life doesn’t go in chronological order? Like you are living the part of the life that you want to live most in that moment? It just seems it goes that way.


Well, I don’t know…


Time is really just this human illusion, you know. There’s only the present. I mean, it’s the only thing that actually exists. So, therefore the past does not exist and the future does not exist either.


But the past existed, and the future will exist.


No, but they don’t exist you see?


But we have facts, evidence, that things happened?


But we never know for sure do we? We look at things through the lens of the present. We see an old clay structure and we automatically think it’s a house. But we don’t know what that actually is. It could be a giant oven, a storage place, a place to bury the dead… something we haven’t even heard of. We know nothing about humans really. 99% of our existence on this planet was as hunter and gatherers. We hardly know anything about what went on during that time period. We only know a little about that 1%. I want to go back in time and see how they lived. Because I think that it how it was to really be human.


Well you’re here now.


I guess so.


So what is your point to all this?


Well, I want to re-write my history.


You can’t rewrite history. Things happened. You can’t change that.


Well no. I don’t think so. All memories are really just someone’s perspective on what they thought had happened. Memories become diluted over time. You probably don’t remember what you ate for lunch last Wednesday.


That may be true, but about important events in history. What about those documents, journals, or letters?


Those don’t matter either. The people who write the past color what had happened; it doesn’t mean it actually did.


What about the Holocaust? We can’t just pretend that never happened.


Well yes, if everyone on this planet chose to forget the Holocaust and replace it with something else, another memory, then it wouldn’t be there anymore. But today I think it serves people a value, some sort of a purpose. It teaches us a lesson. It’s something that should be remembered. Shows us what evil people can be capable of.


An interesting theory, but what is it that you are getting at?


Oh yes, going back in time. Well, I am going to reinvent myself. Completely reinvent myself. I am going to make myself a completely different person. Usually people just change the future and not the past. But I want to do both.


That’s impossible. You can’t change the past.


I doubt that Mr. Delery.


Doctor, please.


(ignoring him)

The future is filled with infinite possibilities, right? In physics, every law that works in one way, must work the other way around too, correct? So, I am going to back in time and change my past.  This isn’t science fiction. I will be changing my memories, so drastically, that I will begin to believe them.


So you are lying to yourself essentially.


No, I am not.

Let me finish please.


Then go on. Please, I’m interested.


Many people don’t have the ability to do this, because they need something to hold onto. They grasp onto their ego like it is their very life itself. But I think that we can rise above our old memories. They are not who we really are. They can cripple us. They make guys like me end up locked up in a place in this.


Well who is it you wish to be? Or have been?


Well, Doctor, my name would be Jack Carrigan. I would have grown up in a small cottage in the Netherlands. I would have lived somewhere where no one speaks. No body ever said a word. My mother would hike all the way up the hill every morning to retrieve water from the well and my father would go out to hunt. My mother would have trouble sometimes, because the rocks would have a tendency to crumble at her feet, and sometimes the water to tumble down the hill and she would have to start over again, but she would grasp her hands tightly on the pine tree branches all the way down, and her hands would be sticky with sap and my hair would become ratty when she would run her hands through them and give me a kiss on the forehead. She would smile at me like she really loved me. By noon, my dad would have already have caught a fat load of squirrels. If he ever traded any of them, he would be sure to always keep the fattest ones hidden away so he could come home and put them on the table. And I would have darling little sister Elsa. And I would love her dearly. Her hair would be blonde and wispy and she would always pick the grass with her fingers and throw it everywhere. Her hands were always as dirty as her mothers. But she would become very ill and die at young age, about 3. It would be a happy death. There would be tears, but no grief. Because forever in our memories, would be a perfect little girl, untainted by an adult things like suffering or hardship and misery. And I would go out to the little village near town, and see a beautiful woman names Giselle. And we would look and one another at once we knew that we would be together. People fall in love instantly here. They can see their future in the others eyes. And they don’t get married. Because their love never dies, like it does marriage.  And we move to another cottage, not too far a way. On we built together, one log at a time. Less than a few hours travel from my parents. And there would be a brook running down the hill in the forest. The water would be so clean you drink right from it. Maybe we’d have a few kids as well.  Everyone loves everyone, but not in the way you expect.


That sounds like a nice life Christopher, but you can’t escape your past.


I am not escaping my life. I am changing it.

This life I have now, but this isn’t who I am. Something went wrong.


We all make mistakes in life Christopher. We just have to live with the choices that we make.


That’s where you are wrong. I can’t live with them. Maybe you can live with your mistakes. Here you are, making a decent living, talking to cold-hearted criminals like their human. Telling them what they could have done differently. But no. There is no turning back. Their lives are over. They go back in the world and everyone knows what they have done. The worst part is, they remember what they had done. Prison does more than put you behind bars. It makes you a prisoner of your own mind. And there’s no escaping that. I’m sick of it. I can’t handle it anymore. I’m done with living that way.


Christopher, if you are going to attempt to take your own life again, I am going to have to let them know.


I don’t find interest in killing myself that anymore. I would rather know where exactly where I am going, rather than just delve into the unknown. To be honest, I don’t want to face this God guy everyone’s so hot and bothered about either. I don’t think he’d be too pleased with me.


Everyone does bad things in their life Christopher.


No, but they live normal lives you see and they act as though everything is okay. But I knew everything wasn’t okay. I knew from the very start something was wrong. And I didn’t want to fake it like everyone else. I didn’t want to pretend I was okay, that my mother wasn’t a drunk, that my father didn’t have honeys on the side, that my brother wasn’t a good-for-nothing son of a bitch. But that my life, how I remember it.


We can’t choose our circumstances Christopher. You were just unfortunate.


Was I? Was I really? Because I think every family is like this. There’s always something dark and fucked up going on underneath everyone’s nose.


Christopher, your life wasn’t normal. You mother neglected you. She was ill. She couldn’t take care of herself. Your father should have been there for you and your family, but he wasn’t.


I don’t think more normal life would have solved anything, Doctor. My family was doomed from the start. And so was I.  I had to find a way of coping with things. I was just like everyone else in my family really. My mom on the bottle, my dad with the women, my brother with the dead-end deals and the money… My vice was fire.


Well, it would make sense for a destructive boy to come from a destructive home.


I wasn’t a pyromaniac. I was a boy burning ants with a magnifying glass. I was pouring gasoline on cars at the age of 10. I was burning away everything I could be.

That’s why I liked burning down those family owned businesses. Those little mom and pop shops. Those folks living out the American dream. They had everything I never had. Everything I never was. See, I thought by destroying something I could get a hold on it. I thought you could control things. But they usually get started up again somehow. People would take sympathy. The town would raise money to open up that creamery, or shoe shop, or bowling alley or whatever. Maybe the car insurance company would give them break and fork them another car. It was always the same old car they had before. Maybe a brand new license plate number. Still the same fucking car. Whatever. It doesn’t matter. It’s all over now. You know, houses were the biggest challenge.


I never wanted to kill anyone you see. I really just wanted their possessions to burn, but not them. I was giving them a chance they never would have had. A chance to start a new life. I never did kill anyone when I burned those houses down. Never with the houses…


Say, what did you want to be when you got older?


A train conductor.


See that’s a perfectly fine dream for a young boy. See I always liked the idea of being a fireman. Not the ones who pull cats out of trees and babies out of burning buildings, but the real ones, the ones in the forest. You see, they found that a forest needs fires to survive. To help it grow. They began to allowing natural forest fires to happen. Now they have firemen lighting fires periodically. If you suppress a forest fire, it will come back with greater fervor.

  I wanted to be like that… I wanted to be… the bird out of the flames…


The Phoenix?


Yes, the phoenix! It wanted to make everything better. Help people arise as a new person.


Well, yes. It still doesn’t justify what you did. It wasn’t your place.


I didn’t mean to. How could I have predicted something like that?

Yes, it was a school, but it was night. I thought everyone had left by then.


I think you very well might have known what was going in that theatre, Christopher.


How was I supposed to know there was a fucking rehearsal going on? I didn’t hear anything.


Those kids had their whole lives ahead of them. You took away their futures.


I was trying to help the kids. I was trying to free them from school, from being told what to think. From being just another piece in the puzzle. From the Big Man. From the ”Yes, sir.” From the “No, sir.” From the drinking every weekend and than on Sundays, dragging their families to church to go pray, to forgive their sins. I don’t care what the Big Man says. I don’t care what he thinks, because I can’t prove he’s real. All I know is that he judges us, and watches us from above. But he watches us like a drunk father with his eyes glued to the TV.  He sees everything happening. He doesn’t care. He’s passive. He just lets things happen.


Those kids were innocent. Fifteeen young lives taken.


Those kids were not innocent. They see a lot more than you think. That town may seem perfect on the outside but you know there’s some serious shit going on behind the doors.

Why did you choose theatre to light the fuse then? The only place in the entire building where people were? Don’t you think you would know?


I know what the jury said, I sat through those trails.


When you kill someone, you take away their opportunity for a life. Just think, if your child was in there. If you did have children. You might not know or care what it would like to be a father. But I know that if my eleven year old was plucking the strings of a violin and wave of fire came upon her, I would pluck in her place. I would not think about it for a second.


I didn’t mean to kill anyone! I chose that spot because I knew flammable those curtains were! I could light the flame from behind the door back stage and I didn’t have to go inside. As much as I would have loved to see the curtains dance in the flames… I couldn’t risk getting caught another time. That door was so heavy, I couldn’t hear a thing behind it…


You don’t think you think I understand that? You don’t think I ever regret what I did? You think I am just a heartless killer? It takes anyone to pull the trigger, but not anyone can live a life after they do it. I am one of those. I can’t live anymore. There was not way I could have. As soon as I lit the fuse, I knew it was all over. I was killing Christopher. He had no chance to live anymore. That’s why I turned myself in. I saw what was going on the TV. I saw the scared kids and the crying mothers and fathers and little siblings and I couldn’t bear it anymore. I knew it was over. I knew I needed to do what was right.


That’s what set you over the edge?


I had to turn myself in after that. I am human after all. I am not the monster the media thinks I am. They still talk about me, you know … well, I am done with that life. You won’t see anymore Christopher after this.


Christopher, I cannot have you try to kill yourself again. I am going to have to report this.


Report it then.


You want to be locked up in the mental ward again Christopher? Strapped to a table with needles in your skin?


No, I don’t want that.


Well, don’t kill yourself then.


I told you, I am not killing myself. I am starting over.


Well, whatever you call it. I’m keeping an eye on you. This meeting is over, but I will have you put in solitary tonight. Just to keep you safe. It’s basic protocol… I’m sorry Christopher…

(DOCTOR gets up and follows CHRISTOPHER to the door)


It’s alright Doc. I’ll be fine.


Good. Good. I’ll see you next Wednesday then.

(DOCTOR shuts the door behind him. Walks over to his chair and sits down and sighs. He looks at CHRISTOPHER’s file that has been sitting on his desk. He shuffles through the pages. They are all blank. He shuffles through them a second time, disillusioned. Dials a few numbers on the phone. )


Hello? Yes, this is Doctor Delery. I feel as though I might have misplaced Christopher’s file.


Christopher Bennett? His name is on it, but the pages are blank. It might have got mixed up with someone else’s. I could have sworn I looked it over just before our meeting.


(voice raised)

What do you mean there’s no Christopher at this prison?

I’ve been seeing him every Wednesday at 2 for the past 3 and half years.


If this is some sort of office prank, it’s really not funny, miss.


 Well if you could please have someone check his cell for me please.


Please. I don’t care. Just tell me if he’s in there.


Cell 301.


No, I’ve never heard of a Carlos.


It’s fine, thank you, Miss. Goodbye.

(DOCTOR bangs the phone down. He flips through the pages of the file a last time. Something falls of out it. DOCTOR picks it up. It’s a postcard.)



Doctor, I wanted to thank you. You are the one who lit the fuse. You ignited the fire within me that lied dormant for years. As of now I have arisen from those flames and I have flown far away. Keep in touch, Jack.

(DOCTOR flips the card over and looks at the other side)


(laughing to himself)

It had to be the fucking Netherlands


(DOCTOR shakes his head and tucks the card in his coat pocket. Lights fade)

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