hell-and-pepsi

honestly i think what it is that pisses me off about Leftist people treating weird kinky sex stuff with an aura of it being like, a form of political resistance or something thats genuinely counter culture, is that... a lot of right wing people are just as kinky as you are - they have strange fetishes and they're swingers and watch all the same porn etc etc - they just are ALSO right wing. like yeah they're swingers but they also think illegal immigrants are subhuman and those things work out just fine together. ultimately- TO ME- it feels like maybe Weird Sex Stuff isn't the sort of revolutionary act we really want it to be. lol. i say this as a resident of fucking bitch ass texas - i remember when people were protesting some law by walking around with dildos strapped to their belts like guns. and it felt stupid. seeing that in public felt really dumb. the difference is conservatives just won't be open about it and that's it

I guess the reason all that Backrooms stuff has never really fazed me is because I worked in on-site networking support for a while, and literally every city's downtown district is just Like That once you get off the beaten path. Not just the really big cities, either; the one I'm currently living in has a population of less than 250 000 – metro area included – and a downtown area about six blocks across, and the service corridors still manage to do some House of Leaves shit. At one point I was trying to map the route of a misbehaving network cable, started out in a shopping mall parking garage, and ended up surfacing in the basement of the casino across the street. Totally unsecured – apparently neither the mall's administration nor the casino's managers knew that particular service corridor existed.

Like, I once bumped into a fully stocked and operational Coke machine in an unlit maintenance corridor twenty feet below ground level. Its display lighting was the only illumination for a hundred yards in either direction. I don't even know what it was plugged into.

Somewhere below this city there's a room the size of a high school gymnasium filled floor to ceiling with rotting mattresses. I've seen it with my own eyes – and, more importantly, smelled it with my own nose. I can't recommend the experience.

(That last one isn't even mysterious. The room in question is within easy walking distance of the basement of a major hotel, if you know where you're going; I imagine the hotel started stashing their old mattresses there at some point rather than pay to have them hauled away, and over the ensuing decades the situation got out of hand.)

Me if i was a Sports commentator: okay so i would have done everything differently there at that moment. And correctly