I got opinions.

I think I really like My Little Pony:Friendship is Magic. It has a surprising amount of amusement quality and adorability, without being a girl-show. Lauren Faust, who worked on Powerpuff Girls and Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends is behind this show, explaining a TON about the quality of the content.

But all this means now I have to confess to not only totally loving Lady Gaga and Fashion Police, but My Little Pony. I know the American male is supposed to have a very fragile concept of his own gender and sexuality, especially if you ask women. But damn it, this show is great. Yes, it’s My Little Pony. But it also had a motherfucking MANTICORE show up.

This show needs watched more often. By everyone. It’s so good it had to be banned from 4chan and SomethingAwful’s discussion, lest it take over again. That’s all the endorsement I needed!

In the process of getting my physical, I came to realize just how much of a worrier I am. I’m pretty sure this is the same thing that happens to everyone, though. You go in, you get poked and prodded, and suddenly your brain goes into overdrive.

“Oh god, I’m scared of the test results!”

Whether or not there’s any reason to be, and more importantly, as if the test results have anything to do with things. They’re only and indicator of what’s already happening! But the human mind wants to  assign blame for what hasn’t happened and may not ever happen. “Oh god I MUST HAVE THE AIDS!” it says for absolutely no reason. “My cholesterol is going to be sky high! I’m a walking heart attack!” follows. “Cancer! I have testicular cancer!”

It never goes to simple things, like “I could lose a little weight” or “Well, my cholesterol is a touch high, but I’ve been changing how I eat so that’s going down anyway.” It’s always a worst case scenario, thinking about that tiny, tiny lump that you know biologically belongs there anyway, or that one questionable encounter with that one questionable girl. Odds be damned, it’s always something terrible that you never thought of before that you MUST have now.

It’s a three day wait for “Oh god. The doctor calls with results thursday, but it’s not going to be the “You’re fine!”, it’s going to be the “I need you to come down to my office” because Arizona law mandates positive AIDS test results be delivered in person!”

Intellectually I’m entirely aware that ANY results are a benefit to me. I’m sure most people are when they get their tests. If against all odds I was a walking heart attack with AIDS and testicular cancer I’d be better off knowing so I could treat it. Instead, my primate brain says “ook ook you’ll live forever if you don’t know ook ook!”, not “Hey, that’s good, your heart won’t explode and shower HIV on everyone around you since you can treat the problem!”

Stupid primate brain.

Food allergies are great. Especially the deadly kind.

The first hangover I’ve ever had in my life, and it’s from benedryl and half a beer to make sure my throat was free of anaphylaxis-inducing particulates. Nothing fun, not that I’m really a drinker anyway, but just 30ml of benedryl and half a beer, which knocked me out at 10pm at the last.

Woo.

Nevermind, AFK for 12 hours.

Delayed entry from Grammy night!

Jesus Christ, 60 minutes. You can’t take me from 20 minutes of Lady Gaga’s awesomeness, a genuinely fascinating segment with intellectual and emotional draw, even a little inexplicable sex appeal, and suddenly cut into Andy Rooney. That’s like giving me a big bar of dark chocolate for dinner, then a habenero peppper souffle for desert. You got me thinking you were a lovely, attractive woman and suddenly I catch you dancing to Goodbye Horses.

It’s attracting me by talking about how great Patton Oswalt and Maria Bamford are, and how saying you followed Rob Zombie on tour, then inviting me to see a special one time only three hour Dane Cook-John Mayer spectacular.

It ain’t right.

Don’t know what happened exactly, but somehow all the site files got moved today, and things didn’t update entirely properly after they were returned.

I uh…regret eating pizza rolls. I knew I would, having not eaten them in at LEAST a year, nor any crapfood in a year that I can remember. The worst I’ve eaten is Panda Express, and that’s really pretty okay.

I think this is how I ensure I never eat crap again. It’s only been three or four hours, and I feel like I’ve all the energy of a crippled sloth. I think my soul’s going to be shit out tomorrow. I’ll have an out of body experience on the toilet. I hear when that happens you feel like you’re floating, looking down on yourself, but I think I’ll be looking up, given circumstances.

What?

It did.

Somewhere, sometime, IRC stopped being a lot of guys joking about being gay with each other. I’m not sure when or why. But sometimes I missed it. Other times I don’t miss the constant mantrain jokes.

Give and take, like everything.

“The complicated nature of the human brain could both help or hurt her chances of recovery.”

Normally I’d take this chance to complain about how EVERYTHING being live shits up the news, but that was taped. They had time to notice that someone smashed together two phrases into one that disagrees with itself in reviews and in editing, if not live on the spot somehow as I noticed it.

But they didn’t, and somehow I still don’t have a job even though this crew does.

The world, it is unjust.

A gentle touch speaks volumes. Especially when it’s your uncle.

Exercise your heart today. Just accept that it’ll never be strong enough to end the pain.