Alvaro @OMGTehAwsome@queer.party

Better rip off the old #introductions band-aid so people don't think I'm a poorly written bot.

I'm Al. I'm an old school bisexual, just because they didn't have the word "pan" back when we were driving our hot rods to the malt shop and getting an egg cream for a dime.

I love indie comic books, comedy and cooking. My TV is always blaring something, since otherwise I get lonely.

I'm as broken as everybody else and my coping strategies are pretty terrible, but I make do.

So I just wanted to verify that I'm not seeing this wrong... I started Slime Rancher and thought it was a treat. At this point I have a farm making plenty of cash in the first zone and there isn't much to buy outside of more areas. Am I good? Is there much more to this game other than just, "more slimes?"

There's nothing wrong with that and I enjoyed my time with it, I'm just wondering if there's a reason to stick around past the tabby slimes.

I have this problem where I really, really enjoying making factually detailed but incredibly stupid jokes. It's not usually a problem, but sometimes you're supposed to be working and are instead researching old football games just to make a crack about Earl Morrall being carried away by a giant eagle during the 1968 Jets/Colts Superbowl and how it changed the game forever.

Oh. My. Fuck.
I've been haunted by this story I read in a compilation when I was 11, but I'd started to question whether this tale of an oceanic, sci-fi world where people switch genitals after they have penetrative sex was real or just a false memory...

But.
I.
(Accidentally.)
Found.
It.

http://www.gregegan.net/OCEANIC/Complete/Oceanic.html

I decided to take a trip back home and visit the brood pod where all the gay eggs are laid.

Well this fucking sucks.
My weekend was looking a bit empty so I was hoping to get a 54-year-old for a few days, but apparently you can only buy those new.

"Here is how the US department of agriculture defines a nugget..."

Well, this has been a fun YouTube k-hole to fall into.

"When the prin-cessss had Cap-ten Cah-runch, the sha-dow had only grape-nuts."

This is my mech, A HITCLIP OF GEORGE MICHAEL'S CARELESS WHISPER

Alright, alright... Tried this bad boy out.

It really doesn't push much air in the beginning, when you're awake. It's actually a little stifling when your whole face is covered and you kind of feel like you're breathing old air.

Now this does ramp up through the night, so as you're drifting away it's a nice bit of, "oh, hey, I'm here for you buddy" when you inhale.

But when you wake up in the middle of the night and this thing is at full speed...

Okay, so I'm diving around the manufacturer's site for this CPAP machine and there is just some wonderful stuff on here that I don't think they intended. Like this surprise micro-fiction prompt from one of their FAQs:

"Will I be able to use this as a full time machine?"

We had a late night, pajama movie party after our art show and I gotta admit that I feel like I brought my cuddliest A game.

So apparently there's a 2005, made for TV version of Reefer Madness... starring Kristen Bell... and it's a musical.

Y'all.

It's REAL good.

(And currently free on Jeffery's website if you have a subscription.)

"Alexa, let me talk to Michael Mouse."
"I'm sorry, I didn't understand that."
"*SIGH* Alexa, let me talk to MICKEY Mouse."
"Huh-huh, hey there, buddy!"
"Michael, we've talked about this. I'm really not comfortable with nicknames in the workplace."
"Would you like to find out what my friends Goofy and Donald are up to?"
"No, Michael, I wanted to talk to you about a new Javascript framework."

I really don't know why I keep checking this site, as it is objectively the worst, but this gave me a proper giggle.

I can't help but picture a grown-ass man stuck on a toddler--sized slide, angrily typing into their iPhone.

Yay! They came so quickly!

Honestly I need to get together with someone that has some 3D design skills at this point. I've been having way too much fun thinking about this.

I mean, you could have it spring-mounted, so that all a partner needs to do it pretty the "Emergency Hitachi" panel and *boing!* out it pops, fully charged.

*leans against a lamp post, drenched in sweat, the night still deep and dark and the air humid and dense*

Fuck, okay, almost down to a 14 minute mile. Come on man, we can do it.

*grabs a sports bottle from his belt and twists it open, squeezing a stream of ice cold gazpacho all over his face*