Five (More) Thoughts with Katrina Monroe

by Katrina Monroe

  1. I can’t science.

I like science. Science makes things blow up and makes my phone cooler and takes care of animals. I appreciate science. I do. I just can’t do it. I started going back to school this year to finish up an English degree I’ve been drooling over for over a decade, and part of it is taking an environmental science class. I read the chapters and cry when I can’t make them stick in my head. I take quizzes that don’t make sense. But, at the end of it, I’m coming for you climate change denying mother-fuckers, so WATCH OUT.

 

  1. Academic writing bores me to tears.

Okay, yes, more school stuff. If I have to obsess about it, you have to hear about it. My required writing class is led by a professor who thinks stylized writing is “confusing.” (I can’t wait to see what he thinks of my rogue italics and one-word paragraphs in our first paper. *eyeroll*). At the beginning of the semester, he emphasized that we would be reading non-fiction. That’s fine. I read A LOT of great non-fiction. Except, in this class, it’ll be academic essays from the medical field, to appeal to the eleventy-billion nursing students in my class. Gag me.

 

  1. You’d think momming got easier once the kids started becoming independent. Guess what, losers. It doesn’t.

When my kids (now ages 9 and 10) were smaller, it was easy to write off their little eccentricities and forgetfulness as a result of their being little. Of course she won’t remember to pick up after herself, Katrina, she’s a toddler for fuckssakes. Now, they still don’t clean their room; they still forget things at school; they still leave behind little trails of pizza cheese and homemade slime, except NOW it’s willful. I have no point other than I’m losing my god-damned mind. Send help.

 

  1. Get your flu shot.

Otherwise you’ll be stuck chain-sucking sugar-free cough drops so you don’t hack up a lung in the middle of class. Oh, and those cough-drops? They give you the runs. Your PSA for the week, kids.

 

  1. Sometimes strangers will sniff your furniture.

This week, I sold our old recliner on the Facebook market because I figured it’d be safer than throwing it up on Facebook and attracting creepers. Facebook users have pictures, right? And you can totally tell a creeper from a non-creeper by their photo (yeah, I’m laughing too). After dodging a few bullshit offers—“I’ll give you twenty bucks and that’s being generous,” fuck off, bro—a legit offer came through and someone showed up to pick up the recliner. Which he sniffed. Allllllll over it. The seat. The back. He said he was looking for mold, but he paid cash so I didn’t ask questions. The chair’s gone now, and so is the sniffer.

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Five Thoughts with Renee Miller

  1. If we have lived past lives, and this reincarnation thing is true, I’m kind of worried about my dog. Do we remember our past life on some level and does it affect who we are and what we do in the next one? (Actually, this would explain a lot if it’s true.) But back to my dog. Sometimes he watches me like he knows things, and I’m all “Stop that.” He doesn’t, of course. Anyway, what I’m asking is; Have I ruined his next life with the shit he’s seen?

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  1. We only know our life through our eyes. Think about that. All you know, experience, etc. is only in your head and when you’re gone, so is your truth, because no one experienced these things the same way or saw what you saw and how you saw it. And even when you write it down, it’s still never going to be the same for anyone else, because they were never in your head, so they can’t see what you’re describing the same way you imagine it. I don’t like that idea.split.gif
  2. What if we’re just a giant science experiment? Maybe we’re just something cooked up by some advanced alien race in another universe. Like, we’re not even real. This whole life, planet, everything that’s happening is just a massive virtual reality thing and when we die, it’s because someone deleted our character file or worse—because we got stuck with someone who is shit at playing video games? Is that a book? If it’s not, it will be.

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  1. Ladyscaping is my least favorite thing to do, and yet I keep doing it. Who decided women should have no body hair and why did everyone else agree?angry.gif
  2. Sometimes I think I’d like to go back in time, but only if I can control where I go and who I get to be. I’d hate it if I was some medieval tavern whore accused of witchcraft or whatever, or worse, the girl who has to dump the chamber pots or give her warty, overweight lord a sponge bath. Gross. If I went back in time, I’d like to go way back, but as a wealthy (or at least titled) person, so I would have nice things and could boss people around and then wow everyone with the things I know. Yes, I’d totally mess with that shit. Screw you, time-space continuum or whatever I’d fuck up. We’d have plumbing way earlier. Bite me, Romans. And I’d find the bitch who started the ladyscaping thing and get rid of her before she fucks us all for the rest of time. Yeah. That’s what I’d do.evil-laugh.gif

Five Thoughts with Steve Wetherell

by Steve

 

1: The scientist man on the radio laughs as he suggests that our existence is likely a computer simulation. He raises some compelling arguments about the technological event horizon and the inevitability of a computer powerful enough to simulate our existence. He misses the crux of the argument, though, which is, as usual, who fucking cares? If we’re in a simulation then we are the simulation. We could no more escape or influence it than could an NPC in a video game. And really, why would you want to? “Oh yeah, it turns out your existence was a simulation, but, as it happens, you are only the sum of your experiences anyway, so, there you have it.” A perfect simulation of a thing is the thing, and we are all phantoms screaming towards oblivion.

Fuck you, radio man.

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2: Justice is an idea, and law is a construct. Ideas may develop the construct, but outside of the construct they are just an opinion. It is not romantic, but buying into it is the only thing that keeps us all from doing as we please. It is important to remember that, as cool as Batman is, he is basically a psychotic power fantasy. I can’t push this guy into the traffic no matter how much I hate his t-shirt.

There is no justice.

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3: I am increasingly terrified of young people as I get older. This is because I can’t just run them down with my car. I am supposed to know better. And they know that I’m supposed to know better. Slags. One day you’ll have too much stake in society to run over people who intimidate you, then we’ll see who’s laughing, You might lose your hair as well.

I hope so.

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4: By the time we have commercially available flying cars, we will already have developed the technology to make a human pilot utterly redundant.

This is why I drink.

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5: What if I’m lifting all these weights and I never have the opportunity to hammer throw a terrorist through a window? Worse, what if I do get the opportunity, but freeze, and some other person gets there before me, and is a hero?  “Oh, I just did what anyone would do,” he or she would say. “Providing they lifted enough weights and weren’t a coward. An utter coward.” Then he or she would look at me. Right at me.

How did they know?

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Five Thoughts with Katrina Monroe

by Katrina

  1. I have no thoughts. All thoughts are darkness. Except for doughnuts. Those are perfect, circular happiness. I probably shouldn’t have eaten it though. My dentist is going to give me the look when I come in with the cavity she knew was going to happen if I kept up with the whole eating sweets thing. Screw her. Dentists are the devil, anyway.

Thought 1

  1. Legitimacy is bullshit but we all need it. Crave it. It’s a confidence booster. You know why people who succeed seem to keep succeeding? Someone told them they could, and they believed. Clap your hands if you believe in fairies and all that. Same principle. Mostly. We could get into whether legitimacy is legitimate (HA), or whether a person can ever reach a plane of legitimacy nirvana where they never stop craving more, but my children need dinner. More soon.

Thought 2

  1. Who was the first person to decide seaweed was something they ought to put in their mouths? What was that story? Probably had something to do with dicks. A lot of weird innovations tend to begin that way. I bet that first seaweed eater was related to the guy who first applied for funding to research what would later become Viagra. Picture it: a family reunion that’s all little blue pills and crunchy seaweed snacks (olive oil and salt, because they’re watching their cholesterol).

Thought 3

  1. I’m probably hungry. Definitely hungry. What’s for dinner tonight? The whitest white-girl quesadillas ever to grace the 10,000 lakes of Minnesota: rotisserie chicken (work smart, not hard), cheese (not sure what kind it is, but it’s yellow, whatever), half-stale tortillas (they’re going to be toasted for fucksakes, no one will notice), avocado (look at me being all HEALTHY), salsa (Mmmm), more cheese (because duh), and probably some other vegetable (whatever is the least wilty in the crisper drawer). You know you want some of this.

Thought 4

    1. Peter Capaldi and Pearl Mackey are an incredible Doctor/companion duo. Pearl isn’t immediately taken in with the doctor (and for FUCKSAKES people it took making her a lesbian to dispel the whole doe-eyed lover thing every other companion except Donna had), and wants from the beginning to keep living her own life outside the TARDIS. She’s fun and funny with sarcastic chops to match Capaldi’s bitter, mid-life Doctor. It’s a fucking tragedy they won’t get more than this season. Thought 5

 

    Fight me.