Shitty Guidance Counselor

Think about this. This is our current capitalist economy at work. It is working as intended and designed by those who benefit from it.

it’s just really interesting to me

Does your understanding of “woman” include skin? Does a “woman” have eyes? Is she a mammal or a limbless invertebrate? Is she even made of cells, or is she merely a smooth piece of poreless plastic?

Women can be older than the age of 30, and women older than 30 even are naked sometimes. How does this statement make you feel? Does it baffle you? Does it open a pit in the bottom of your stomach, filled with a dread you cannot name?

With all due respect, which is none, do you understand that women are living organisms, made of cells, lacking the stiff supporting structures of cell walls, possessing tissues of varying types, one of which is fat? Do you understand that these tissues are pliable substances, soft to the touch, affected by gravity?

Many men have what you would call a “fat fetish,” yes. Very often, these men also have a “skin fetish,” and a “hair fetish,” and a “spinal column fetish,” and a “central nervous system fetish;” in fact, most men have a frightening array of sexual deviances that assemble themselves into what must be to you the most disgusting perversion of all: they are sexually attracted to living things, animals with complex body plans, vertebrates, mammals even!

In fact, an incredibly large proportion of men—you may want to sit down for this one—are sexually aroused by other humans!

It is generally thought that the way Rubens and Boucher drew women was based on their wives.

All three of the women in this painting are thin. Even by the standards of Body Mass Index, they would almost certainly be considered perfectly healthy. What is so repulsive and alien to you is that they are depicted by a man who has seen the real, living body of an adult woman, even touched her sometimes. Peter Paul Rubens did not have to imagine in his head what a woman might look like in real life. He was married to one.

Have you ever seen a woman who has given birth?

How do you imagine that works? Do you imagine that women are made of some smooth, plastic-like substance that can be inflated like a beach ball?

What do you think a “fetish” is? My understanding of the word is that it refers to something that deviates from the norm of human sexuality, sexuality here understood to relate to human reproduction, which involves other, fertile humans.

This is not a “fetish.” This is the prototype, the OG, the Ur-Fetish from which all else derives. If fetishes are considered sexual “deviance,” this is what they are “deviating” from. Being attracted to this is, in other words, straight-laced sexual orthodoxy.

Congratulations on the 16th anniversary of your birth. Please report to: Rodent Assignment Terminus #1 13th Avenue Manhattan, NY 

Honest to God, I had no idea there even was a 13th Avenue on Manhattan but here I was.  After about two minutes of look around, I spotted the ramshackle little kiosk in the corner of the floating block of asphalt and pavement.  It was surrounded by mini traffic cones forming an impromptu runway that led right to the small window carved in the side of the slanted hut.  I knocked on the window sill and waited.

The tiny window slid open and the wizened face of an old lady appeared.  By my rough estimate, she was approximately 170 years old.  “Name?”  She croaked, taking a drag off her cigarette with shriveled lips.  

“Uh… Addison.  Addison Sharpe.”  I held up the pamphlet with my eyebrows up, letting her know I also did not know why I was here.  

The window slammed shut and I heard the bustle and groaning of the old lady getting up out of her seat.  

To my surprise, she appeared outside the kiosk with a metal wire hanger-looking device with a hook hammered into the end.  She shuffled three feet to a tiny, manhole cover and slipped the hook through one of its holes.  I rushed forward to offer to do it myself but to my utter shock, she lifted the manhole up and to the side with no more effort than it took her to slam the small window of her kiosk.  She removed her cigarette with one hand and cupped her mouth with the other.  “Addison Sharpe!”

A low, unholy sound emerged from the depths of the hole in the ground.  It sounded like 8 million chairs squeaking across a poorly-waxed floor.  It sounded like 32 million claws clicking and clacking their way across a cement car port.  It sounded like the asthmatic breathing of a mass of nightmares.  It got closer… and closer to the top of the hole.

A single rat, about the size of a small chiuahua, emerged from the hole.

“Look, he got dressed up for you,” the old lady wheezed affectionately, and casually moved the manhole cover back into place.

The rat in question appeared to have a pink bow on his head, stuck there with what I can only assume (and hope) was gum.  He regarded me, whiskers twitching, beady eyes staring. 

“I like your bow,” I offered.

The rat hobbled towards me, latching onto my pant leg with sharp little claws and climbing until he reached my hoodie pocket, where he settled with a decisive sigh.  

Always use more garlic than the recipe calls for

"Ehhh fuck it close enough" is a great measurement tool

Find like 5 recipes that you like, adjust them how you like them, make them until you hate them

Clean as you go

If a recipe is from a mommy blog, you will need more spices

If you would like to help him he needs $300 for insulin, needles, and cleaning supplies.

If you didn’t know: reusing needles can make people sick or die

And going without insulin while diabetic can also kill people, as can be seen when a man tried raising money for insulin and was $50 short so he died 

If you are able and willing, you can donate to his paypal here: https://www.paypal.me/14blvd78