[Nekko Fox]'s diary
Mute the video on the left.
Laugh.
Burn in hell for your laughter.
Worth it.
http://youtube
Long story short:
I leaned on a table at work, and it fucked my shit up.
long story long:
I leaned on a table at work, and it fucked my shit up. The legs snapped off and my foot caught on one of the braces, tripping me. When I tried to catch myself by shifting my weight to my other foot, the table came down on my ankle which I had to let pivot and get pinned or it would have broken. Of course, now my foot was caught under a table, the only reasonable course of action is to fall on top of sad table and the ankle underneath. I also essentially elbow-dropped a cement floor.
So I scraped up and bruised my ankle, my ankle is sprained and swelling, my wrist is sprained, my elbow hurts, and I banjaxed my back. Thankfully, it's all soft tissue damage. I'm sore, but nothing is broke, and Worker's Comp should take care of the doctor's visit and I have three kinds of medications to help me get over it.
Until then, I'm kinda stuck.
Written about Monday 2013-07-01
Written: (4312 days ago)
POOF!
Written about Thursday 2013-06-27
Written: (4315 days ago)
A recent post elsewhere made by someone hilarious:
be me
be on 4chan
see funny thread
start to sweat
my eyes twitch nervously as I scan the room for signs of danger, muscles tensed for movement
all clear
my fingers fly across the keyboard
ALMOST THERE
YES
hit reply
"you must wait 10 seconds to post"
NO NO NO THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING
Scan the thread again
still all clear, what I wanted to say has not been posted
type in wrong captcha
type in wrong captcha again
full panic mode
gritting teeth, a snarling sound emanating from mouth, eyes bloodshot and focused
FINALLY
OH NO WAIT I FORGOT TO ADD SOMETHING
ABORT ABORT ABORT
YES
quickly add what I was going to say
Mother pops in. "Everything okay son?"
"SHUT THE FUCK UP MUM I'M ON THE MOST IMPORTANT SITE ON THE INTERNET"
Hit enter
What the fuck
Captcha wrong
Sinking feeling hits me
I start to pound the table in frustration
I didn't succeed in aborting the post
Then I see it
Someone else typed what I wanted to say first
Above my post: "my sides 10/10"
My unfinished post: "my sides"
NO
HE BEAT ME THERE
THIS CANNOT BE
Erupt in rage, punch mother in face, she flies across room
THIS IS ALL MOOT'S FAULT
TIME TO SUE MOOT
Punch computer
Computer explodes
Throw table at mother as she tries to get up
Pull on my trusty fedora covered in epic memes
Bring my Rainbow Dash sex doll and supply of nuggets
See a Christian along the road
FOR THE GLORY OF THE ATHEIST ARMY
Run at him and use my special tard strength
My carer always told me never to punch people
So I kick him instead
He stumbles back, shocked
"YOU CANNOT STAND BEFORE MY EUPHORIC INTELLIGENCE" I yell running away
Reach Walmart for supplies
Need more mountain dew
See a qt 3.14, solid 10/year old
Time to be alpha
Shove the 3-year old acoompanying her to the floor
"I HAVE RESCUED YOU MY FAIR MAIDEN. HAI. I'M BRIAN"
"mommy this man is disturbing me"
Her mother comes around, sees my precious Dashie
"You sick pervert! Get away from my children!"
This oppressive tool of the patriarchy is still trying to uphold the dominance of the traditional family model
I feel raped, so I take out my penis to wait out the trigger
She screams and charges at me
"RAINBOW DASH I CHOOSE YOU"
Propelled by spaghetti, I cast my sex doll at her
She's bowled over
Unfortunately she falls on it and crushes it
I fall to my knees weeping for my fallen love
The security guards arrive, hampered by the massive tide of spaghetti
I look around in horror
There! My one way of escape! The aisle!
Thank Darwin for my advanced euphoric IQ of 25925
This is why my teachers called me high-functioni
I pant as I struggle to the door, earthquakes forming with each step
A security guard tries to tackle me but is lost in the labyrinth of my neckbeard
I whip out my special Sonic OC
Don't steal guise
They are blinded by its intense black and red colors
I swing it around, beheading them on its edge
Run out onto the street
"TAXI TAXI"
Taxi pulls up. "Sir, how may we help you?"
I throw nuggets at him. "TAKE THIS AND LEAVE. FOLLOW MOOT."
He doesn't know who moot is
I hurl myself onto the floor of the taxi to hunt for my missing nugget
"Sir please get off my taxi"
"SHUT UP YOU'RE RAPING ME WITH EVERY WORD"
Spray mountain dew in his face
He crashes into a police car
Moot is inside the police car
I jump out
Charge
The police fire
Penetrate through my fursuit, but reflected off my natural blubber
I unleash my fursona, Darkachu
Howl of rage
Moot is scared
I approach him to sue him
Suddenly my father calls
"It's time for bed anon where are you"
Look at my Bionicle watch
It's 8 o'clock
OH SHIT
Maximum overdrive activated
I chant WOLOLOLOLOLOLO
A dark god comes from the sky
Takes me back to bed
My mother helps me put on my pajamas
I crawl into bed
Wait. Where's Rainbow Dash?
NO
ALL IS LOST
I charge to the computer
If I can just reach my tumblr...
Suddenly see a message on facebook
It's from my girlfriend, Yotsuba girl
"THIS IS DAVID. I DISCOVERED YOUR RETARDED ACCOUNT PASSWORD. STOP FUCKING AROUND WITH A FAKE ACCOUNT TO PRETEND YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND AND GO TO BED"
How sweet
I log in
"STOP being tsundere"
Suddenly dad bursts into my room
Realizes its past my bedtime
I scream in terror and run into the closet
At least he didn't harm my female alter ego
He doesn't understand my special position on the spectrum of genders and sexuality, or that I house multiple entities in my brain
I fumble around in the closet
See daylight
Go through
Note my lower limbs changing
Yes! Now I am finally part horse and can consummate my relationship with Rainbow Dash!
Horns sprout from my head to represent the darkness of my tortured fursona's heart
My neckbeard moves down to my chest
I rip off my shirt to show off my alphadom
Do a jig in happiness
Play my flute
Girl comes in
Take her to White Witch
Get turned to stone
How's your day been, /b/?
Written about Sunday 2013-06-02
Written: (4341 days ago)
http://www.wvg
I agree with some points, and disagree with others.
Written about Monday 2013-04-22
Written: (4381 days ago)
"Activating DAY VISION GOGGLES!"
"Those are binoculars."
http://www.ama
http://www.ama
http://www.ama
moto obs moto motoko kotit bsb bbs mottoki mokoto bmoto bs motookookk obmo sbb mtotoko
My favorite creepypasta of all time.
"The Art of Jacob Emory"
"Ghost stories? Nah, we don’t have anything like that around here. We DO have the story of Jacob, but that’s about as close as you’ll get.
…You really want to know?… Well, I’m not supposed to tell you, but all right, just no interrupting. I don’t have the patience for it.
How to describe Jacob Emory… well, I guess you could say he was the kind of guy you could never take notice of. This isn’t to say he was a bad kid, in any sense- many people in this town thought he was the most reliable person for an odd job in the state- but he never really excelled in anything. He was the living proof behind the statement, “jack of all trades, ace of none.” Most of this was due to his own lack of will. He dabbled in damn near everything this town could offer him, automobiles, radio operation, store management, what have you, but he never stuck with anything. His friends and workers went after him about it a number of times, but everybody got the same unsatisfying response: “It just wasn’t enough.” Needless to say, any friends he kept were either very patient or never spoke of the matter altogether.
It was probably inevitable, then, that Jacob would leave to go abroad. I don’t remember where he went, but I think Gertrude down the street knew before she passed on- you’ll have to scout someone else if you ever get curious. In any case, no one even tried to stop him. Everybody thought that a little travel would stamp the ambition out of him, or else feed it until it was no longer an issue. Hell, we even gave him a sending-off party, which I thought was pretty nice of everybody.
So anyway, he was gone for… six, seven years? Can’t remember. You’ll have to check with someone else about that, too. Anyways, he came back, eventually, and he had changed, obviously enough. He was amiable, energetic, all smiles all the time, and we all quickly learned why. He showed us a souvenir he’d brought back- a solid black stick, the length of a pencil but the texture of chalk. We all wondered why on earth such a simple thing would prompt such a spring in his step, until he gave his demonstration. He took a piece of paper, and with this stick- God, there’s got to be a better word for it- with this stick, he… he drew a crude circle.
It dropped, and rested on the border of the paper, like a stone. It didn’t leave the paper, but it acted out on it, sort of like an old movie projector on a screen.
Son, I know how crazy that sounds, and if you feel like playing skeptic, then you can leave an old man to his craziness, but I know what I saw, even if everyone’s been hushing it up, and that stone he drew dropped. Jake even passed around the paper, and as it was being passed, it rolled around as the paper got tilted. None of us had any words for it- Hell, what was there to say?- but he continued drawing demonstration after demonstration for us, stick figures in various pageants and plays doing everything from fighting each other to making perfect “human” pyramids, and we all thought it was incredible. That was all the go-ahead he needed- he announced that he planned to put on shows to pay for rent and food, where he would draw anything the crowd members wanted. THAT we talked to some length about, and he eventually convinced us that it would be safe, his drawings ethical, the practice lucrative and unique, and the attention would not go anywhere outside of the town’s borders.
Poor Jacob. If I’d not been so swept up in the moment, I might’ve read the signs right then and there, and saved the sorry son of a bitch by snapping the terrible thing in half. But I was younger, we all were, and we saw no problem with encouraging him with what we all saw as an incredible experience to be shared with everyone else. Now, he didn’t have any big radio or television connections, mind you, and the internet wouldn’t come around for another decade, so he did what all people on a shoestring budget do- he advertised his show with fliers. Fliers might not mean anything to you city-folk, but in a small town, they gain a fair glance-over from time to time, and what’s more, Jacob’s managed to stick out by having little figures jump up and down and whatnot to get people’s attention. His first show must’ve gotten nearly sixty or so people, probably a lot more than that.
And his shows were fantastic. Someone would shout out a scene from a play or a comedy sketch, and Jake’s hand would fly over a white wall like a bird. He’d been holding back when he made that stone, that’s for damn sure. His illustrations were all spot-on, and he could make an incredible human figure in minutes. Come to think of it, I don’t remember any of his scenes lasting more than ten minutes to make. They were all really well-done scenes, too- not only could you see a knight charge a castle, Jake would draw the castle’s interior as well, like a wedding cake split down the middle, so you could see the knight scale the walls, fight his way through levels to the dungeon, fight back out with the princess, and make a leaping jump off castle parapets onto his getaway horse all in complete silence. Not realistic, no, but that was part of the appeal- none of us went in there expecting something real. When a scene or a sketch was finished, either the characters would leave off a wall or he’d cover the wall with white paint. This was good, in a way- it gave these shows a time limit, so that when he’d finished with all of the four walls in the room, everyone knew the show was over until the paint dried.
Jake, meanwhile, was changing in a bad way. I’d mentioned that upon his return, he’d been extremely energetic. Well, that energy, that vitality or fervor or whatever you want to call it, it never left him. Not for an instant. Far from it, it seemed to grow in him, and he enjoyed it all too much. His eyes grew wider, he slept gradually less over time, his statements and opinions more radical and frenzied, and though he never was a pushover, he was starting to make people nervous in his company.
A month or two passed, and Jake’s audience grew like a wildfire. Nearly everyone in the town paid to see Jake’s art in action, and he had to rent out larger and larger places for them to sit. He now didn’t stop after one scene was done- he moved directly on to the next, put on the next blank space on the wall, sometimes to the intriguing effect of causing scenes to mingle, which the crowd loved. The subject matter got more wild and immoral, the monsters got more bizarre and creative, the fighters using more impossible weaponry, all for the sake of the crowd’s interests. Jake got steadily more indulgent, which we figured was from the money, and he became a drinker and a womanizer (neither of which got rid of that vitality, by the way.) Some of those women claimed that they’d woken up in the middle of the night to see him scribbling with that stick on a drawing pad, a gigantic grin on his face, and while most of them said that they’d assumed he was drawing them in the nude, there’s rumors that one or two of them got glances at that notepad. Those anonymous few supposedly said that those drawings absolutely weren’t nude pictures, but neither of them, whoever they are, will say what he was drawing. Don’t bother looking for the notepads or fliers, though, they’re all gone now. I’m getting off-track; point is, he was hitting the bottle, and that’s important, because it was that drinking that would eventually ruin everything.
On the night of one of his performances, as he walked in front of his cheering crowd, it was immediately apparent to everybody that he was completely drunk. I was in the front row, and I could smell the bourbon on him from ten feet away. The show started, he went through a bunch of sketches and scenarios the crowd recommended, when at the end someone asked that he draw himself. Everyone cheered the idea, I guessed they’d been wondering what his creations thought of him, and he eventually obliged.
No sooner had Jake finished connecting the final two lines on his coat, than every single character, across the vast, expansive wall, all stopped and looked directly at that illustration. Lovers stopped kissing, clowns stopped laughing, robots stopped fighting pirates, everything stopped and looked at the Jacob-illustra
That Jacob reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a black stick of his own, and as we all watched, drew a door. He pushed on his side and the door swung open, allowing him to walk through onto the floor of the auditorium.
The rest was an absolute hellish pandemonium. People screamed and ran for the exits as Jacob’s characters, both those currently on the wall and those which had previously left before being covered up, ran out of their own exit, throwing pies, shooting lasers, blowing fire and poison and the impossible. I was near enough the exit to escape, and gave only one backwards glance. The scene will haunt me forever.
Jacob Emory was being dragged by his creations, kicking and screaming, through the door his copy had made.
The auditorium burned down, obviously enough, but I have no idea how many characters escaped, what happened to the fake Emory, or how many people died. The fire brought the fire department from the nearest cities up to over a hundred miles away- they in turn brought the police force, which brought the government, which hushed up everything. They took the fliers and any art Jake had made, and swore everyone to secrecy or else life detainment. The fire was blamed on a cigarette in the garbage during a basketball game, and we all eventually went on with our lives. Jacob was made to never have existed.
In retrospect, I realize everything. Jacob hadn’t been creating illustrations. Illustrations don’t move, much less act or attack-they’re just images people see, shadows made to look like real things. Jacob had been making life- actual thinking things in some alternate dimension, using a power that was never meant to fall to mortal hands. He got drunk on his power. His punishment was probably well-deserved.
Incidentally, the government screwed up on two different accounts. They did a damn good job silencing everyone, but proof remains. The ruins are still there, you know. The auditorium’s ruins. I hear they’re going to start reconstruction soon, which will wipe out any remaining evidence someone can definitely see, but I went back there once, several years after the fire- just once. Amidst the rubble, covered in ash, I saw something squirming. I looked closer. It was Jacob Emory’s hand on the wall. Exactly like it had been three years ago, (sweaty but calloused, I remember,) but it was constantly flailing, as if the body it was supposed to be attached to was still writhing in flames.
That was mistake number one. Number two was those creations.
Like I said, I don’t know how many escaped, nor how many the government agents found and caught, but I will say only this- Those tall grass meadows on the outskirts of town? Don’t go into them. Ever. You were asking about those white figures you’ve seen at night, right?
This town doesn’t have ghost stories."
"Several writers have misapprehended or objected to the term natural selection. Some have even imagined that natural selection induce is variability, whereas it implies only the preservation of such a very a shins as a rise and are beneficial to the being under its conditions of life. No one objects to the agriculturists speaking of the potent effects man's selection; and in this case the individual differences given by nature, which man for some objects selects, must of necessity first occur. others have objected that the term selection implies conscious choice in the animals which become a modified; and it has even been reached that, as plans have no volition, natural selection is not applicable to them! In the literal sense of the word, no doubt, natural selection is a False term; but who ever objected to chemists speaking of the elective affinities of the various elements? - and yes and acid cannot strictly be said to elect the base with which it in preference combines. it has been said that I speak of natural selection as an active power or deity; but who objects to an author speaking of the attraction of gravity as ruling the movements of the planets? Everyone knows what is meant and is implied by such a metaphorical expressions; and they are almost necessary for brevity. So again it is difficult to avoid personifying the word nature; but I mean by nature, only the aggregate action product of many natural laws, and by laws the sequence of events as ascertained buy us. With a little familiarity such superficial objections will be forgotten."
-Origin of Species, Charles Darwin
Title 4 of the United States Code, which outlines the role of flag of the United States, specifies occasions on which all government buildings, offices, public schools, and military bases are to fly their flags at half-staff, occasions which include the deaths of presidents, vice presidents, members of Congress, justices of the Supreme Court, and state governors. As well, the President of the United States may issue proclamations directing U.S. flags to be flown at half-staff on other occasions, as was done in recent years for the death of Pope John Paul II,the interment of Frank Buckles (the last surviving American World War I veteran), the crew of the Space Shuttle Columbia's final mission (who died when the ship disintegrated during re-entry), the funeral of astronaut Neil Armstrong, and the shootings at Fort Hood, Virginia Tech, the Century Aurora theater, and Sandy Hook Elementary School.
State governors may also direct all U.S. and state flags in their jurisdictions flown at half-staff to mark the death of state officials and
state residents who died on active duty as members of the armed forces. In some cases governors may also direct that flags be lowered to half-staff to honor the passing of other state residents prominent outside the areas of government and the military.
Christopher Scott "Chris" Kyle was a U.S. Navy SEAL who was known as "the Most Lethal Sniper in U.S. Military History" (a phrase which was used in the title of his autobiography). Kyle, a Texas native and resident, was shot and killed on 2 February 2013 at a Texas shooting range, and he was buried in the state capital of Austin. Texas governor Rick Perry issued a Press Release statement expressing his condolences to Chris Kyle's family "and the thousands of service members that were his extended family," but despite a good deal of public support for the gesture, Governor Perry did not issue a proclamation directing flags to be flown at half-staff statewide on the occasion of either Chris Kyle's memorial service or his funeral. (As noted above, that honor is a traditional one for those who have died while active duty members of the armed forces, but Kyle did not die on active duty, having left the U.S. Navy in 2009.)
Pop singer Whitney Houston passed away on 11 February 2012 from an accidental drowning in a bathtub, an event which the Los Angeles County coroner's office reported was due to the "effects of atheroscleroti
Although the White House issued a statement through press secretary Jay Carney after Whitney Houston's death noting that President Obama's "thoughts and prayers are with Whitney Houston's family, especially her daughter," as far as we know President Obama has made no public expression of condolence or mourning to mark the passing of Chris Kyle. It is not true that President Obama ordered flags throughout the country flown at half-staff to honor Whitney Houston; as noted above, that action was undertaken only at a state level by the governor of New Jersey.
1 of the fiercest penalties in the Old Testament is the 1 exacted for blasphemy. It is still in force in certain countries. Section 295-c of the Pakistan penal code prescribes the death penalty for this 'crime'. On 18 August 2001, Dr Younis Shaikh, a medical doctor and let your, was sentenced to death for blasphemy. Is particular crime was to tell students that the Prophet Muhammad was not a Muslim before he invented the relation at the age of 40. 11 of his students with ported him to the thirty's for thus 'offense'. the blasphemy law in Pakistan is more usually in Boca against Christians, such as Augustine Ashiq 'Kingri' Masih, who was sentenced to death in Faisalabad in 2000. Masih, as a Christian, was not allowed to marry his sweetheart because she was a Muslim and - incredibly- Pakistani (and Islamic) law does not allow a Muslim woman to marry a non Muslim man. so he tried to convert to Islam and was then accused of doing so for bass motives. It is not clear from the report I have read whether this is in itself was the capital crime, or whether it was something he is alleged to have said about the profits on morals. either way, it certainly was not the kind of offense that would warrant a death sentence in any country whose laws are free of religious bigotry.
in 2006 in Afghanistan, Abdul Rahman was sentenced to death for converting to Christianity. Did he kill anyone, hurt anybody, steal anything, damage anything? No. all he did was change his mind. Internally and privately, he changed his mind. He entertains certain spots which were not to the lighting of the ruling party at his country. And this, remember, is not the Afghanistan of the Taliban but the 'liberated' Afghanistan of Hamid Karzai, set up by the American Led coalition. Mr Rahman finally escaped execution, but only on a plea of insanity, and only after intense internal pressure. He has now sought asylum in Italy, to avoid being murdered by the cell it's easier to do there is slimy duty. It is still an article of the constitution of 'liberated' Afghanistan that the penalty for apostasy is death. apostasy, remember, doesn't mean actual harm to persons with property. It is pure thoughtcrime, to use George Orwell's 1984 terminology, and the official punishment for it under Islamic law is death. on the third of September 1992, to take 1 example where it was actually carried out, Sadiq Abdul Karim Malallah was publicly be headed in Saudi Arabia after being lawfully convicted of apostasy and blasphemy.
Written about Saturday 2013-02-09
Written: (4454 days ago)
Fundamentalist religion it's hell-bent on ruining the scientific education of countless thousands of innocent, well-meaning, either young minds. Non-fundamenta
I am no more fundamentalist what I say evolution is true then when I say it is true that New Zealand is in the southern hemisphere. We believe in evolution because the evidence supports it, and we would abandon it overnight if new evidence a rose to disprove it. No real fundamentalist would ever say anything like that.
it is all too easy to confuse fundamentalism with passion. I may well appear passionate when I defend evolution against a fundamentalist creationist, but this is not because they Weible fundamentalism of my own. It is because the evidence for evolution is overwhelmingly strong and I am passionately distressed that my opponent can't see it - or, more usually refuses to look at it because it contradicts his holy book.
I do not deny that humanity's powerful tendencies towards in-group loyalties and out-group histories would exist even in the absence of religion. Fans of rival football teams are an example of the phenomenon whit small. Even football supporters sometimes divide a long religious lines, as in the case of Glasgow Rangers and Glasgow Celtic. Languages (as in Belgium), races and tribes (especially in Africa) can be important divisive tokens. But religion amplifies and exacerbates the damage in at least three ways:
-Labeling of children. Children are described as 'Catholic Children' or 'Protestant Children' etc. from an early age, and certainly far too early for them to have made up their minds on what they think about religion.
-Segregated schools. Children are educated, again off in from a very early age, with members of a religious in group and separately from children his family is here to other religions. It is not an exaggeration to say that the troubles in Northern Ireland would disappear in a generation of segregated schooling were abolished.
-Taboos against 'marrying out'. This perpetuates hereditary fueds and vendettas by preventing the mingling of feuding groups. Intermarriage, if it were permitted, would naturally tend to mollify enmities.
The Bible is a blueprint of in-group morality, complete with instructions for genocide, enslavement of out-groups, and world domination. But the Bible is not evil by virtue of its objectives or even it's glorification of murder, cruelty, and rape. Many ancient works do that - The Iliad, the Icelandic Sagas, the tales of ancient Syrians and the inscriptions of the ancient Mayans, for example. But no one is selling the Iliad as a foundation of morality. Therein lies the problem. The Bible is sold, and bought, as a guide to how people should live their lives. And it is, by far, the world's all-time best seller.
Novel Prize winning physicist Steven Weinberg said, "Religion is an insult to human dignity. With or without it, you'd have good people doing good things and evil people doing evil things. But for good people to do evil things, it takes religion."
Blaise Pascal said, "Men never do evil so completely and cheerfully as when they do it from religious conviction."
"Historic Mecca, the cradle of Islam, is being buried in an unprecedented onslaught by religious zealots. Almost all of the rich and multi layered history of the holy city is gone... Now the actual birthday place of the Prophet Muhammad is facing the bulldozers, with the connivance of Saudi religious authorities who's hardline interpretation of Islam is compelling them to wipe out their own heritage... The motive behind the destruction is the Wahhabist' fanatical fear that places of historical and religious interest could give rise to idolatry or polytheism, the worship of multiple and potentially equal gods. The practice of idolatry in Saudi Arabia remains, in principle, punishable by beheading.
I do not believe there is an atheist in the world who would bulldoze Mecca - or Chartres, York Minster or Notre Dame, the Shwe Dagon, or, of course, the Buddhas of Bamiyan.
Written about Sunday 2013-02-03
Written: (4460 days ago)
Why not all Allah's omnipotent power? Or Lord Brahmas? Or even Yahwehs?
Why, I can't help wondering, is God thought to need such ferocious defense? One might have supposed to him amply capable of looking after himself.
Freedom From Religion Foundation, FFRF, which campaigns peacefully against the undermining of the Constitutional separation of church and state.