It was a frosty arvo in the nation's capital as I achingly strode back from a mission when a passing banana bus, the double bus with an accordion-like midsection, triggered its air brakes.The piercing whoosh caught me broadside but at a distance, not up close, so the startle response of my PTSD only kicked in for the moment it happened and ebbed in seconds leaving an energy boost after glow from the adrenaline hit.When it happened I yelled "JESUS FUCK" and hopped into the air about a foot bef
Articles from Harrangue Man
I was on the way out of the bigs' pen, an egg in hand, when I found myself lying on the ground on the front wall of the pen, a crushed egg in my hand and chicken muck up my legs. It was a slippery surface and I have mobility issues. I likely just slid then fell but I had no memory of the fall—I was just lying dazed on a mesh grill pen side with egg bits streaked across my palm. I could get up and I put the pen side back—but not secured as my shaking fingers are not up to that.
It's been a few goes now and I've slipped right back into it. I have access to better tech, better facilities and have cut-through. I was alone; now I serve a team. I get paid half of what I got before but I insisted to keep costs down; I'm in it for the mission, not for the cash. I'm a short, fat technocrat and I am fucking glorious. WFTW.
The trouble with a bus ride home is that you have time to think. I'd had a convo about unpleasant work life then caught the bus. I sat and thought of that then childhood crap and started crying. Not hulking sobs, stone face with tears trickling. I didn't hide it nor did anyone pay it mind. I didn't make a sound, I just leaked. As if I was over-full and water pressure demanded a release. I stopped midway.
I'm playing the Minstrel in Talisman. He had a Talisman but the swarm of flies he charmed earlier just fucked off with it.Glorious.
"I look like I attempted matter transport with a potato."That's gold; I shouldn't say things like that in formal settings like interviews---which of course I did---but it's still gold.Acceptance of self for the win.
I walked and I walked and I walked. I got lost more than once and learned to navigate via artwork. It's not a place for running but fast walking is required and fast walking and I are not friends.
I am not one for overt displays of patriotic fervour but I got a win and started chanting "U.S.A! U.S.A! U.S.A!"—an ingrained habit from watching The Simpsons do the '84 Olympics with the next line being "Carl Lewis, I could kiss you" as said by Chief Wiggam (1).So I re-framed the chant as "A.U.S! A.U.S! A.U.S!"I don't like the "Aussie! Aussie! Aussie! Oi! OI! Oi!" chant; it rubs me the wrong way.
The SCOTUS has upheld Trump's travel ban saying it is constitutional. It was a five four decision with the conservative wing winningThis is where the theft kicks in:The decision was one of a string of 5-to-4 decisions this term in which the justices on the right have reasserted themselves, afte
In the months after my psychological injury one of the ways I coped with, or exhibited, stress was pacing. Thinking, self-speaking, and pacing. I would pace for hours muttering, thinking, re-living, on my wonky bones.