Our bathroom has a secluded corner with an extra door in front of it. And behind that door there's only the toilet. I lovingly refer to that space as the crap shack and it's a place of strange, random thoughts.
Actually, there's also a mixed assortment of spiders back there. Creepy little fuckers. During one of my recent thinking sessions in the crap shack, I might have flicked a booger. Yes, I do that sometimes when nobody is watching me. And the green, snotty projectile made its way into one of the many spider webs. And the very same second, one of those hairy, eight-legged freaks came running towards it and started wrapping it up in a nice little cocoon. Makes you wonder. Was it gonna eat the booger at some point? Was it gonna lay eggs in it? Do boogers stay nice and fresh in there?
As I was watching the miracles of nature unfold before my very eyes, I drifted off into one of my many random day-dreaming sessions. And I have come to the conclusion that I'd love to break into a random house one day. You know, make sure nobody is there, force the door open or break in through a window and just... redecorate.
That's right. I wouldn't steal anything. I'd simply rearrange the furniture, maybe add a new picture or two on their walls, make the whole place look different.
Think about it. How fucking surreal would it be if you came home and the whole place looked different? When you come to realize that someone had broken into your place and just completely rearranged all your stuff? It would totally make my day.
Also, I hate James Franklin Hyneman. Now that's an awesome transition right there, huh? In fact, I hate all of the Mythbusters. Because they're the only people with a job, which is clearly more awesome than mine. You see, I get paid to play video games. Then I get to make fun of how much they suck and people pay me again. Being the nameless, semi-talented newbie to the industry that I am, I don't usually get to write about the games I really want to write about, but come on - it is my job to play, have fun and criticise! I was born to do that!
But it's hard to appreciate that sort of thing when there's a bunch of people out there, who get to dress up pigs like pirates and then shoot cannonballs at them. I wanna do that! But do you have any fucking idea how hard it is to get your hands on a pig around here? Or a cannon? Besides, I'm relatively sure I'm not qualified to get chucked out of a flying airplane. I wouldn't know how to build awesome robots, either. Sure, I get to heave my lazy ass out of bed when I want, work when I want and as much or as little as I want, sit around in my underwear all day, eat pizza, listen to my favourite music and watch tv while I'm in my "office", but what's the point if I don't get to shoot at pigs?
To be fair, though, when I'm talking about hate here, it's not sincere, genuine hatred as much as just plain old jealousy. There are things out there, which are much more fun to hate than the Mythbusters. Furries, for instance. You know, those weirdos who use stupid expressions like yiff, glomp and pawing off, dress up like sports mascots and hump the crap out of one another or just cuddle random strangers at conventions.
The whole thing isn't just some strange fetish. Heck, I don't mind people, who are sexually attracted to feet or armpits. Though I do wonder what the magazines in their bathrooms look like. But when somebody wants to fuck Baloo or Winnie the Pooh, my tolerance comes to an end. And I'm talking about literally fucking them. You see, I was stupid enough to google for some Worgen desktop images. Nothing filthy, just something related to the new playable toons on World of Warcraft to decorate my computer with. And one of the questionable art galleries, that Google had recommended to me, was advertising "strategically placed holes". Apparently, people send their favourite plushies there, to have them upgraded with realistic... holes.
Well. If you happen to have sex with teddy bears or dress up like a giant stuffed toy and cuddle random people at conventions - I hate you. You may rightfully call me an intolerant dick for that, but I fucking hate you. You see, I refer to night elves, dwarves and gnomes as "peoples" in my reviews, because it is no longer politically correct to call them "races". I try to avoid talking about black people altogether, because for some fucked up reason, someone will most certainly get upset about the term "black". I don't even know what the fuck I'm allowed to call them anymore, without insulting someone or breaking the rules of political correctness. I was born in a country where the government, in all seriousness, discussed a ban on blonde jokes - I shit you not. We live in the day and age of tolerance and acceptance. Which is a good thing for the most part, mind, but I refuse to tolerate furries.
Heck, 50 years from now, I'll be an angry old fart, who will sit outside all day to yell at random people and I'm gonna love it. And we're gonna have furry pride parades, a furry US-president and furry tv shows. But in the meanwhile, I'm gonna hate them. I'm gonna hate them for dressing like stupid-looking animals, I'm gonna hate them for putting vaginas on dog plushies and I'm gonna hate them for drawing crude, messed up werewolf porn. It's fun to hate. And you don't have to tolerate everything.
And with that, I'm gonna flush and end today's blog post.
-Cat
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