Things you have to be thankful for: Scary-Crayon updates! Two new Hot Flashes and a special Thanksgiving edition of Crayon Poetry Corner (complete with an intense mp3 recitation) are up. And in case you forgot, this has been The Week of Hot Flashes, so feel free to go back and check out any other ones you missed. This week also saw the posting of A Random Lunch #9, starring our old pals Kain and Wild Boar Alien. Yep.

I guess the text of the poem isn't entirely true, but I still feel terrible. And on that note, HAPPY THANKSGIVING!!! Ja ne.

I just saw a commercial for St. Jude Children's Research Hospital in which Morgan Freeman and a bunch of other people declared that St. Jude's will never never never never never never never stop searching for a cure for cancer. Never.

And I thought, "Never? Like, not even if they found one? Doesn't sound like they're too optimistic about succeeding."

To the women out there (or men who feel inclined to reply in a similar capacity, though I suspect that women the recipients of the more injurious and limiting stereotypes) -- I imagine you must deal with some similar issues, given the more or less inherent assumptions that people make about you on the basis of your sex. How do you endure it? And do you think that, in spite of these perhaps inevitable presumptions, it is possible for anyone to judge you as an individual, without considering it -- or is "being a woman" so integral to your self-perception that such appreciation of your (independent) individuality is unnecessary? At any rate, I am deeply saddened by the fact that a few physical features -- here, breasts and genitalia -- seem to make all the difference regarding how people treat one another.

I have been reading about suicide and methods and came across this article as a "disorder" associated with suicidal thought. I found the latter sections of the piece to be especially interesting.

Do you know what it's like to daily experience the things you hate most in all the world? And not only to experience them, but to have them forcefully shoved down your fucking throat during every waking minute not spent in complete and total isolation? In addition to being absolutely certain that it will ever end and having no hope whatsoever that anything could possibly happen to make life worth living in the face of this constant, daily battering, because there really is no possible way such a thing could ever occur -- at least not in this world, with things being as they are?

I hope that you never suffer this.

I'd been meaning to post these for a while but never got around to it. Well, here are a bunch of photos of my old dorm room from umpteen years ago. Yep. (more...)