tampon fights under a doomsday sunset

"Basically, at the very bottom of life, which seduces us all, there is only absurdity, and more absurdity. And maybe that's what gives us our joy for living, because the only thing that can defeat absurdity is lucidity." ~ Albert Camus

There's a cool new game all the hip kids are playing called Tampon Run. It's an interesting side-scroller flash game developed by two young ladies, "Andy and Sophie" that are straight outta high school in New York City. The game was developed as part of the "Girls Who Code" program which gets young women interested in the computer sciences so that they can hopefully grow up and get real paid.*

Tampon Run centers around a female hero (simply minding her own business) trying to walk her 8-bit ass down the sidewalk when suddenly she's accosted by men wearing pink hats that like to moonwalk. The only defense our intrepid heroine has in her repertoire is the ability to jump over her attackers or to fire tampons at them.** Pressing the up arrow on your keyboard will allow your character to jump and the space bar fires off a round of tampon at the ne'erdowells with the pink hats and alien legs. You die when your tampon supply reaches zero, obviously, and in this way the game accurately reflects real life.

There's a bigger metaphor here as well since this little flash game mirrors the problems women face in society at large with the unending supply of baddies that ceaselessly attack our heroine. She was just trying to use the public sidewalk, even though it seems like a questionable decision to go out at night (when the sky is red) and the sidewalks are crawling with identically clad aggresive looking men. However, that is exactly the point. Why should women have to carry extra tampons around with them when they just wanted to go for a walk under the apocalyptic sky? Women have just as much right to sidewalk use (even during a doomsday sunset) without being constantly subjected to the men of the world (8-bit or not) hassling them. They shouldn't need to buy tampons in bulk, men ought to respect them enough as human beings to not objectify them and force them to defend themselves with feminine products.

*As opposed to a liberal arts degree where there is no "getting real paid" going on whatsoever.

**Unsure if there are extra feminine products that can be unlocked at higher levels as this game is totally innapropriate to play at work so I had to Start Button+D a few times when prying eyes demanded to know what I was grinning about so hard.

choking d**** and murdering tricks

"Murder’s out of tune,
And sweet revenge grows harsh."

~ William Shakespeare (Othello)

Jack the Ripper was identified. After 126 years, the victims' families can finally get the closure they deserve. Or rather, the countless authors that have written on the subject of this mystery "ripper" can finally publish that epilogue chapter they've been dying to get to since that first edition.

This is great news for amateur detectives and armchair investigators but to the average fellow it means very little. To the serially criminal fellow though, it means that any schmuck with some money and a bit of ingenuity can join in on the hunt for your "red october"*. However, the authorities would most likely limit the available caseload that can be worked by any old asshole to those "unsolved mysteries" or "cold cases" that gather dust in evidence rooms across the world. Basically, if a crime was just committed then it's the police that will be doing the policing instead of "Arnold the Auctioner"** who won an auction for some murder memorabilia who then called his friend "Donald the Doctor"*** to do some "science".

DNA evidence in the 126 year old murder case of Jack the Ripper has brought about a resolution to the caper though there will probably be no convictions on the matter as dear "Jack" was actually an insane hairdresser and likely mentally unfit to stand trial even if he were still alive. Aaron Kosminski, also known as "Jack the Ripper", was a Polish immigrant that butchered some prostitutes in London in the late 19th century. Also, he was a chronic masturbator.**** This is where a joke about polish people could go but there's nothing to joke about here because it seems like dear "Jack" was really just in it to win it: choking dicks and murdering tricks. Kosminski is one of the greatest serial killers to ever pick up a blade. He lived a long life (for the time) and died of gangrene in a lunatic asylum after butchering whores and scaring the shit out of everyone that lived in one of the world's largest cities (at the time). If there were ever a poster child/boy/man for "successful serial killers", Aaron Kosminski is assuredly that man-child.

So, what does this all mean to the aspiring serial killer today? If a 126 year old "cold case" can come up gangbusters because of some old semen, what about more recent murders? What about more recent murders involving semen? DNA is the greatest enemy in the serial killer's extensive list of enemies (nosy neighbors, smart police, savvy detectives, witnesses, etc) and here is further proof of the power this particular foe wields against the would-be murderer. However, hopeful serial killers need not fret overly so because there is still a string of unsolved serial killings and uncaught murderer idols out there to offer hope to the weary. Next time you find yourself hesitating with blade in hand, think of the killers out there still "at large" or "free to kill again" like the "Zodiac killer" or the "Mad Butcher of Kingsbury Run" or even the "Frankford Slasher" and just go ahead and sink that blade in deep so you can finally find that sweet release.

*"October" is the name of your blade and "red" means it's covered in blood, in this particular metaphor.

**Russell Edwards, "businessman", 48 years old

***Doctor Jari Louhelanain, "doctor", unknown age

****"Kosminski has always been one of the three most credible suspects. He is often described as having been a hairdresser in Whitechapel, the occupation written on his admission papers to the workhouse in 1890. What is certain is he was seriously mentally ill, probably a paranoid schizophrenic who suffered auditory hallucinations and described as a misogynist prone to ‘self-abuse’ – a euphemism for masturbation." - serially killing that dick

the raven sings when the mists come

"Yesterday is but today's memory, and tomorrow is today's dream." 

~Khalil Gibran

Certain memories leave scars while others can heal the weary soul. Memory is fleeting and colored more often than true. Some memories are even colorfully fleeting as they slip away like snowflakes between fingertips. There are also memories that defy and deny. They're the misty memories and far more insidious because they refuse to be held for even an instant.

Friday nights often give birth to these fiendish deviants but, they always begin their sinful ceremonies with alcohol. Then the mists begin to set in as the evening rolls on and finally, the captain must simply trust in his instruments to guide him home. He knows his ship and he knows the route. He's made it half a hundred times in worse conditions before, or so he tells himself on each subsequent foggy voyage home.

Ancient sea explorers took birds on long voyages to help find land in uncharted waters. Once released, the birds would either return or not. If they returned, the sailors must continue their voyage as land was not near.

The captain on this voyage may know these waters well but that's not to say he always finds a safe harbor so he releases the only creature able to find its way through these mists of sinfulness. The raven, black as night, soars on the winds and peers through the haze of lascivious debauchery. The raven's deathly wisdom gives it the ability to see through the fogs and caw out truth.

"Asshole!" quoth the raven, "Drunken asshole!" quoth the raven, forevermore.

my second favorite tinkerbell

My second favorite pixie in the whole wide world is obviously La Roux. I believe all women are beautiful and that if you can't find the beauty in a woman, you're not a real man. Admittedly, the search can take a while for some, but I assure you there is beauty there somewhere. That being said, particular "types" of women (or womyn, you're all beautiful, remember?) really "get my toes tapping" or "engorge my member", as they say in polite society. Pale, ethnically ambiguous (fish and chips English), fairy-like waifs such as this beautiful young lady are among such a group, I admit. However, she has a new album out this year and here is a song that your ears will thank you for listening to:



Can't say if Sexotheque is a cool metaphor or an actual place. Ideally, both?

when's the last time you were upper decked?

 

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