Thursday, February 23, 2017

The fall of Milo

Laurie Penny does a fine job reporting from Milo's bus then reflects on his fall and how reality affects those that folow him:

"On the Milo Bus with the Lost Boys of America's New Right" by Laurie Penny, Pacific Standard.

Leaf blower handled

I went past one in operation outside whilst walking. And for me, in that moment, the leaf blower was just background noise.


UPDATE: It's underground frog season. The backyard is roaring with their sex-shouting. I stood right over a hidden seducer—which is apparently down a wet hole—and it was so loud my eardrums rang.

And I was okay.

Sat in wee

It wasn't my wee and I didn't notice until I saw the dribble on the seat where I did not go and felt the damp of where it went on me.

I had a shower.

Still, at least that's something unusual I can go with the next time someone asks what I've been up to.

Wednesday, February 22, 2017

Thor sore

We were watching a movie where the Hulk pounded the Asgard out of Thor. theboy thought Thor dead and cried.

I didn't leave the room but I did sit there on the cusp of fight flight because the sound of distress is a trigger when you have PTSD. 

He stopped cryingThor is just sorebut that's what it is to live with a psychological injury; even your child's distress can distress you. 

Tuesday, February 21, 2017

PTSD flared? Baste in anthems

One of the techniques I use to battle the sads is with battle music; anthems that give both joy and a feeling of "to the barricades!"

After recent unpleasantness I needed some epic basting to counter the dark menace of looming anxiety so I queued up song after song of epic power as a I reminder that I did that and that I survived it.

The "to the barricades!" mix

I Love It” by Icona Pop

The Nosebleed Section” by Hilltop Hoods

"Danger! High Voltage" by Electric Six

Get Back” by Ludacris (from the Tropic Thunder end credits)

The Old Landmark” performed by James Brown (from The Blues Brothers)

Tubthumping (I get knocked down)” by Chumbawamba

Some Nights” by Fun.

(later that day...)

Sabotage” by the Beastie Boys


Monday, February 20, 2017

A howling no from my body

My PTSD flared with anxiety, bad dreams, bad guts and body pain the result.

My body gave a howling no but I gritted teeth and pushed forward to get some needed nasty work done.

Now all I hope is that my body and brain knows it's over—stupid subconscious and its impact on the body prime.

That's what it is to live with a psychological injury; normal seeming tasks come littered with psychological mines that can shred the psyche on detonation.

Sunday, February 19, 2017


Showbags are an Ozzer institutionI still remember my fucking awesome Batman showbag from the Royal Easter Show circa '80; and that's the Adam West version of BM and, like Roger Moore as Bond, the best actor to have done that gig.

theboy wants to get an Assassins Creedshowbag ... then use the weapons from that to assassinate characters from other showbags and loot their stuff.

I have to admit, that was pretty funny.

The Simpsons as real-life cosplay

I am older than Homer and my son is younger than Bart. But I spent the day being portly and bald and he spent the day in a light red shirt and blue shorts.

The similarities were freakish.

A thing I just said

"Get your chew fish if you're going to masticate."

Saturday, February 18, 2017

Frightening projection

Trump just called the media "the enemy of the American People!"

This is deeply and monstrously worrying.

What the fuck are the GOP going to do about it? This is on them if they do not intervene and something actually horrifying happens from this violence-implied call to action.

This is third world despotic shit.

UPDATE: Thank probs for John McCain.

Black cat thunder thigh

The black cat was on my lap when a bolt of lightning struck close by. I had a moment to register the flash before the thunder peal shocked through us.

The cat was startled and fled and in the process dug in its claws for her thunder-stricken panic leap. Claws that dug into the meat of my thigh.

I think the sudden pain of the claw dig flooded my brain and prevented fight flight kicking in from the monstrous peal that blew through my head.

And they say a black cat is unlucky.

But, fuck me, while it didn't draw blood the claw dig hurt; I am wearing the thinnest of pants---ladies PJ pants---and it was just that thin slip of fabric that prevented blood dimpling forth.

What a lovely early afternoon present brought to me by the Mother N.

And nearly the number three from a one plus two.

Friday, February 17, 2017

Down the wrong trouser of time

With thanks to Terry Pratchett.

President Donald Trump had a press conference, year of our non-lord 2017 on 16 February.

It was bonkers surreal.