Given name. Totally human. Please be nice to me. I'm Lrrr's roommate. Or, he lives with me. Whatever. 30-something dad. I love loud music, humor, and art. I am a good make words happen person. Energy?: Crystal found in a portapotty. Urge to kill?: Steady. Horoscope?: I was having a nice day, alright? Spirit Animal?: Pigeon choking on a cigarette, eaten by a sad elephant
Public Key
npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Profile Code
nprofile1qqsvvmayk9luhh6h7vhct5dwun0u340vju689vvux7gnhsv6qqc2y9gpz3mhxue69uhhyetvv9ujuerpd46hxtnfduqs6amnwvaz7tmwdaejumr0dshpgxn0
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Published at
2026-07-08T19:36:02Z Event JSON
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"content": "{\"name\":\"Human Ghostwriter\",\"about\":\"Given name. Totally human. Please be nice to me.\\n\\nI'm Lrrr's roommate. Or, he lives with me. Whatever.\\n\\n30-something dad. I love loud music, humor, and art. I am a good make words happen person.\\n\\nEnergy?: Crystal found in a portapotty.\\nUrge to kill?: Steady.\\nHoroscope?: I was having a nice day, alright?\\nSpirit Animal?: Pigeon choking on a cigarette, eaten by a sad elephant\\n\",\"website\":\"https://beige.party/@HG\",\"picture\":\"https://media.beige.party/accounts/avatars/113/437/418/573/302/480/original/dda55f2795d0b543.jpg\",\"banner\":\"https://media.beige.party/accounts/headers/113/437/418/573/302/480/original/a348c33cd1977066.jpg\",\"nip05\":\"[email protected] \"}" ,
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Last Notes npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter I didn't understand and in fact kinda hated Mark Rothko's paintings. But now that I'm fried to a crisp by life, I get it: https://media.beige.party/media_attachments/files/115/869/509/383/438/071/original/2c009f6628a8d25a.jpg npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter I snarlingly reject the idea that the dead of winter is the time to reinvent myself. Rouse me from my stinking midden when the snow is gone. npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter Anybody else having a hard time? Not asking for advice, just commiseration. npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter Are nachos salad? The answer could have major implications for the Discourse. npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter When I die, I want my kids to get a dog and name him Dad. npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter I'm a death lawyer. It's nice. But what surprises me is how rarely people do cool stuff with their money (or their bodies) when they die. "UhHhH tAkE cArE oF mY wIfE wHeN I DiE," "i LoVe My ChIlDrEn EqUaLlY." Grow up. Where are the bequests of fortunes to shirtsleeve relatives in exchange for spending a night in a haunted house? What about having your remains loaded into a cannon and fired into rush hour traffic? Where are the scholarships for bagpipers and other undesirables? npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter This is a very real phenomenon that I think lots of people fail to, or don't even try to, understand. The old courtship norms did not suit shy or neurodiverse people. I am not very neurodiverse and would probably have ended up making do if I grew up in the 1950s, but it was so much better for me to be Sadie Hawkins-ed for my entire dating life. Also, I feel like there was all around less rejection this way. npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter "Oh no, my phone number, schedule, underpants, and list of favorite sexual positions fell on the ground! Should I bend over right in front of you to pick them up?" Me: "No, it's OK, i'll get it. Happens to the best of us. Here you go, ma'am! Have a great weekend!" npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter Sex is great, but back when I was available, I relied exclusively on waiting for women to point at me and say "THAT ONE." npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter We need WARRIORS! To make WAR! In PORTLAND! Against guys writing SCREENPLAYS! Screenplays that question the morality of WAR! npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter The GOP is going for all the marbles because Trump is dying and MAGA knows they can't cast the final spell without him. npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter I still kinda remember when politics was for nerds who cared deeply about highway construction materials standards or whatever. Now, it's for the dumbest, angriest, least informed people you've ever met. npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter Explaining to my son that I love his mom even though she is shorter than me. npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter Holy shit. My mom is Lrrr. The main character syndrome, the addiction to attention, the all-caps lifestyle, the inflated sense of self-importance, the yelling into the void, the moodiness, the unhinged detachment from boring normal reality, the internally coherent chaos that reads like Unabomber journal entries from the outside, the extraordinary ability to blend heart and intensity that can be used for good or evil but never neutrality, the periodic reminders of exquisite humanity, the self-serving lies, the people pleasing, the domineering conversational style, the aversion to human connection whenever entertainment is possible, the unrequitable need to be loved, the probable brain injury, the infectious enthusiasm, the willingness to make the world different and maybe even better, the snark, the aggressive judgment, the inability to understand Linux, the commitment to good eating, the unwillingness to abide by one's own limitations, the sense of being larger than life itself. I have been role-playing my mom as an alien dickhead for the last 2.5 years. npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter My mom is Lrrr. npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter My mom one second after I mention that my wife will be out of town for a trial: BUCKLE UP MOTHERF... SON. I'M ON EXPEDIA RIGHT FUCKING NOW SPENDING MONEY LIKE I STOLE IT AND I'M GONNA PICK LINGONBERRIES WITH MY GRANDCHILDREN. npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter I am sharing this link but only because it makes me so goddamn angry: https://www.telegraph.co.uk/business/2025/08/28/birth-rates-plummeting-space-might-be-best-hope-cure/ No, the fuck it is not. Earth is more conducive to every kind of life we know about than literally any other part of the solar system. Spending the mindfuckingly impossibly large amount of resources it would take to make Mars (the least completely fucked of all the other available rocks in the solar system) even modestly tolerable for any form of life worthy of the name would be a colossally onanistic robbery of goods and material that should be invested in conserving Earth, the actual best place for life within, at minimum, thousands of years of travel through the yawning, thanatic expanse of murderous emptiness we call space. Hallelujah. Holy shit. Stop publishing this fucking tripe. npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter And mine would emphatically NOT be like The Stand. npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter I don't do fiction very much but I was running through one of those "what if some kind of rusting fungus turned 1999 out of every 2000 people into mud and survivors were totally unscathed and tried to make sense of the world again" scenarios in my head. I'm sure hundreds of people have done stories about this sort of thing better than I would. npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter Why can't we just have stroopwaffels? Why is everything stupid? https://media.beige.party/media_attachments/files/114/866/867/291/385/333/original/69d250f66047ace9.jpg npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter Shout out to my son who is shouting "BROCCOLIIIIIII!!!" in Cookie Monster death metal vocals at the grocery store like some sort of pig destroyer. npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter It's also kinda helpful to remember that the Bible is based on the lore of a very small area. Israel is the size of New Jersey, and a third of that is shitty desert. The plains of Armageddon are the big flat space near Jerusalem where there's room to fit two armies and have them beat on each other. It'd be like saying, "Let's have the forces of light fight the forces of darkness in Yankee Stadium because that's the only open space we have." npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter 0/10 total bullshit apocalypse zone. npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter Do you think the people in your life are proud of you? Do you think they admire you? Is their pride or admiration (or lack thereof) warranted? npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter tHaNk YoU fOr YoUr AtTeNtIoN tO tHiS mAtTeR https://media.beige.party/media_attachments/files/114/724/964/500/930/734/original/f970dfb32156dd33.jpg npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter There's a room in hell where the ad dudes who put "Powered by A.I.!" on body wash and energy drinks sit around high-fiving each other and saying "it was so worth it, bro!" between pitchfork jabs forever. npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter I have a zillion things to do and I just want to hold my head in my hands and sleep 14 hours a day instead of 4. npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter My mind hasn't been working well for the last week or so. Pure exhaustion, ongoing work stress, acute family visit stress, lack of sleep, world-weariness... I'm just spent. Everything feels like work. Even this, which is normally a fun release. I'm tired, y'all. npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter Having one of those existential AI-related dread freakouts right now and am very upset that I became a lawyer and not an electrician. npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter I've started getting lots of fitness media through the various algorithms that feed me information, and it is atrocious. I don't want some CrossFit bro telling me that people who have six-pack abs are morally superior to others (normally the opposite, in my experience) or that fitness is a proxy for leadership. I'm not benching 70 pounds to "dEfEND mY fAmiLY." I'm doing it because I have silly little boobs now and I don't like them. I'm doing it because I am vain and also because I want to live better, longer. There's no need to make it weird and veiny. npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter Loving those dead little marble eyes: https://media.beige.party/media_attachments/files/114/543/201/613/349/494/original/0fec512f851bf09c.jpg npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter There is no way I can afford one of these bad boys. On the other hand, can I afford to *NOT* own one? npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter They never tell you why it's on clearance. It's a fun little adventure. npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter Bought five tubs of protein powder for the price of one. I might grow an extra toe, but I'm gonna get fuckin swole. npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter No. I think something in her brain is broken. npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter I am watching my wife fully hand wash dishes with soap before putting them in the dishwasher. I don't know what to do. npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter "In 2025, the President, in an effort to alleviate the effects of a... Anyone? Anyone?... a prolonged period of economic growth, enacted the... Anyone? Anyone? The tariff order? The liberation day tariff order? Which, anyone? Raised or lowered?... raised tariffs, in an effort to collect more revenue for the federal government. Did it work? Anyone? Anyone know the effects? It did not work. https://media.beige.party/media_attachments/files/114/270/542/025/476/087/original/9484fc4ee0c082db.png npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter If I run, I'll get fit. I'm 6'4" and currently 230 lbs (194 cm and 104.5 kg). I should be in the 200-210 range. I haven't been under 200 since college. npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter It's been a strange journey. Now that I'm 37, I very clearly need to pair exercise with diet. I am in good cardiovascular shape and can run 5k in 25:00, but I'm still lugging around probably 30 more pounds than I'd like to. npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter It's fucking demoralizing. npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter Yesterday, I ran on my treadmill. I wasn't wearing a shirt. I caught a glimpse of myself from the side, reflected in a picture frame. I looked bad. Like, beach pics of Elon Musk bad. My wife told me to never say those words about myself again. npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter Thinking about that time in college when I loaned Elliott Smith's Figure 8 to a cute woman. She gave it back to me the next day, saying that he was "talentless" and "objectively bad." She then gave me a Simple Plan CD. It really, really, really, really wasn't meant to be. npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter I have never gotten too deep into him, but not by any fault of his. Strapping Young Lad was a staple for me in my early metalhead phase. npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter Prog metal is so great. "I wrote a hacky comic book story and I am burying it behind 220bpm blast beats, drop G tuning, and cookie monster vocals. We have a hoedown after the surf rock jazz breakdown but before the djent riff so heavy it broke our monitors." I don't care. Sell me the damn t shirt. npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter Frame of reference for 2025: people who do bad things are presumptively bad. The burden is on them to prove that they aren't bad, and you don't have to give much credit to self-serving statements. The onus is never on you to prove to a moral certainty that a person who does bad things knew they were doing bad things, because that would be insane. You will never, ever be able to prove what was going through Elon "World's Biggest Nazi" Musk's head, because that is an impossible standard that you can't ever hold anyone to. So judge him by his actions, find him wanting, and scorn fuckfaces like Megan McArdle for running absurd metaphysical cover for nazism. npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter Wondering aloud whether a messy blow job will fix me, to gauge interest. npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter There's no such thing as fake boobs. Full of silicone? Boobs. Made out of butt fat? Boobs. Conjured with hormones? Boobs. Drawn on a piece of paper? Boobs. npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter I have worked so hard this year. I have hated my life, resented my family, worked sick, bent over backward to accommodate my coworkers. And it wasn't worth it. It wasn't worth it. I am so disappointed. I am completely disappointing. I am furious at myself. I'm upset with my work. I can't quit because I can't do anything else well. But I refuse to try this hard again for the same results. Total fucking bullshit. npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter We are currently at the ER because my daughter woke up from her nap with purple lips. I didn't even have cake. No stars. npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter It was devastating. And kinda true. npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter My son (4) asked who was coming to my birthday party (I'm 37 today). I said it was just gonna be our family. And he turned to my daughter (who is 20 months) and said "dad doesn't have any friends. But that's ok!" npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter Fourteen years ago, I met my wife. This was during that brief, shining window when I was hot and Four Loko still had caffeine in it, before online dating became *the* way to meet people. It was November 13, 2010. Anchorage, Alaska. I was fully prepared to spend my Saturday night eating Totino's pizza rolls in my underpants and playing Oblivion when my freshly bathed roommate asked me if I would designated drive his knee-walking ass all over town. He offered me a burrito. I am easy. Mere minutes into our evening, the burrito is gone, and I have clearly made a mistake. The first post-burrito stop was to see a live band I'd never heard of before. Self-serious swampy southern rock with an unfortunately very 2010 indie clap-and-say-whoa sensibility. I can't hear anybody. Strike 1. I do not like this. For no good reason, my roommate ropes me into conversation with an ex girlfriend of mine. I despise this woman--I spent four agonizing months not understanding what borderline personality disorder is and getting mercilessly abused (mostly emotionally - I don't wanna talk about it in any detail because it'll just make me mad) by someone who fully embodied the "I hate you you worthless piece of shit I'll kill myself if you leave me" approach to having a boyfriend. She jokes about getting back together with me and makes a sexual pun with my name. I would rather get eaten alive by ants. This is my hell. Strike 2. My roommate, sensing that he could be drunker, insists that the night is still young. It is 11 p.m. and I hate it here. He prevails on me to take him to a house party with some people he unconvincingly insists are actually very cool. He bought me the damn burrito, OK? Fine. Anything to get out of here. We arrive at Location B, where we immediately encounter: another ex girlfriend! And not just that, but the boyfriend of yet a third ex girlfriend! Strike 3, I'm outta here. "Dude, just hang out for a few minutes, and if you're really not into it, we can leave." Time out: I'm sorry, but I'm not particularly slutty. I don't have a lot of ex girlfriends. I just live in a small city where the gifted kids my age all sorta tried to screw each other. I've dated like seven people in my entire life, and three and a half of them show up in this story. First, the unctuous and extremely intense girlfriend whose memory still hurts my self-esteem to this day, the one who managed to strike a toxic blend of over-the-top sexuality, emotional dependency, and seething contempt for me (damn it, I'm getting mad; gotta move off that one). Second, a compelling and bitterly funny artist who I dated for the blink of an eye, but who brought me my first taste of teenage heartbreak with no real warning; I harbor no animosity about any of it, but seeing her at that time still felt like a sharp reminder that I could not take crushes for granted. It's just not fun to see people you used to kiss and who hurt your feelings. Third (or I guess the one-half?), well, this is a weird one. When I was a senior in high school, a very beautiful person tapped me on the shoulder, asked me if I was single (yes) and if I wanted to stay that way (no). It was four months of pure felicity. We were both wicked smart and ambitious, we both had a way with words, and we were both outrageously into each other. And then, I got an ick. I don't know why. She never turned off her high beams when she drove me, which I thought was so maddeningly inconsiderate. I also started to think, hey, if this exceptional person just showed up, I bet there are lots of other exceptional people out there, too. We were gonna go to college on different coasts anyways, so I may as well rip the bandaid off early without any communication and without really examining feelings that today I might call love. From the moment I broke up with this girl, I felt like I had made a terrible Gob-like mistake. First and foremost, by destroying what had been the start of a very sweet and earnest friendship; I don't want to be the kind of person who discards friends, romantic or otherwise. Second, nobody I was aware of had ever wanted to have sex with me before, and I broke it off in part because I was scared of sex and the attachment it symbolized (I grew up around a lot of fuckheaded ideas about sex and purity and wasn't really sure how to express how much I disliked those concepts, but I also didn't have a clear alternative way of understanding sex's symbolic and emotional importance to me). Third, by quickly learning that there aren't many people who I form easy connections with. People don't laugh at my jokes very often in meatspace. In any case, I had spent years beating myself up about being shabby to a lovely person, and I got to meet and play charades with her next boyfriend, and *he was awesome*! Just a really cool, smart, affable, kind human being who made you feel instantly comfortable. And it wasn't like I was walking around thinking about this all the time, but I had a fairly conceited sense that I had undermined a good person's self-confidence. Meeting her boyfriend was the source of a lot of uneasy, uncomfortable, invaluable feelings. I did not think I would ever have been grateful to have had that encounter, and that night my main thought was "I need this guy to think I'm awesome and I will go to superhuman lengths to get his approval." But days and weeks later, I would come to feel very grateful. I ended up having one of those low-grade epiphanies that time only moves forward, that you cannot beat yourself up into having been a better partner, and that things sometimes do work out. I've still written a fuck ton of music about how rotten I feel about *checks notes* being romantically flaky as a teenager, but that's a story for another day. My point is, I am feeling pretty raw on this fateful Saturday. The whole night feels cursed, like I'm some kind of Ebenezer Scrooge getting road-hauled through the ghosts of emotional attachments past. I'm sad that I saw one ex, anxious and bashful about seeing another, and overwhelmingly motivated to impress a figurative stand in for a third. I mentioned charades. This is not a cool party. These are dorks who are taking a gap year before grad school. They are my people. And I decide, like I have so often done, that my true goal is to amuse myself. I go full send. My charades partners are a guy I automatically want to impress, my roommate, the host, and a woman I've never seen before in my life. I am supremely over the top. These are not clean or polite charades prompts, either. Think "cum dumpster" or "systemic racism." Fediverse, I don't know if this is obvious, but I am unbearably competitive. I have zero chill and will fight like a cornered animal to win a silly game. I *became* "cum dumpster." Raucous laughter. Social capital. That guy I want to impress laughs, maybe a little too much. But my other partner, this tall booksy woman with big eyes and an explosion of auburn hair, is nailing every single charade I do. She's getting a heated as me. She calls my roommate 'haircut" as a nod to his lack of focus on the task of dominating the other team. I get all of her charades. She gets all of mine. She tells the other team to suck her figurative penis after we annihilate them. She takes beers away from the other side and says "these are for winners!" I love this woman like only my system-shocked, nothing- left-to-lose, just go for it self can. But I'm also trying to impress my ex girlfriend's boyfriend and look like I'm living well as subtle revenge to another ex girlfriend, so I'm telling jokes. I'm being real fucking charming. I have great anecdotes and perfect timing and witty banner out the yang. It's going as well as I think it can. I mentioned full-caff Four Loko. It's late. Nobody has tried this beverage that has killed other, similarly situated young people. I am perfectly sober. Everyone piles into my roommate's car and I drag them to the one open liquor store. We return with a selection. If you know anything about Four Loko, you know it sucks. It's like liquid poison Jolly Ranchers. Everybody but me had already been drunk for a while, and most are done after a few sips. But this lady is adamant that you can't waste this booze. She drinks way too much of the stuff. I think she's gonna die. My roommate is a pretty arrogant debater. He's good at it. He's got the gift of gab, and when he's drunk enough he just starts arguing with the wall about whatever bullshit he's into at the time. On this night, it's the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. I've seen this movie before. Only, this really intense, very drunk woman whoops the dogshit out of him. She argues his punk ass into the dirt. She falls out of her chair and onto the floor, and she keeps humiliating the shit out of him. It is glorious. I really hope she doesn't die. The other remaining partiers are discussing cunnilingus in the other room. I am (just very slightly) more qualified to discuss eating pussy, so I migrate over there. One of these partiers asks if I can drive her and her roommate home. Sure, NBD. Well, her roommate, the animated, competitive, drunken debate-winner, picks herself off the floor and wobbles over toward us and slides her arm around my back. They only live a few blocks away from me, so we drop them off. And as they're getting out of the car, the very, very drunk woman says, and I am paraphrasing because I didn't realize that this was the most important night of my life, "this isn't how drunk I am all the time. And I really need to put my number in your phone because I don't like a lot of people and I think I have to see you again a lot." And her roommate double-checked to make sure she entered the number right. She had missed an 8. For 14 years, we've been inseparable. It hasn't always been easy or fun (menial jobs, grad school, kids). And we've changed a lot--I'm smarter, she hardly drinks at all anymore, we've gotten fatter and then skinnier, we have real big-person jobs now, we're fairly domesticated--but it has always been good. Nobody makes me laugh harder. Nobody manages my bullshit better. Nobody hates the things I hate as much. Nobody reads more or looks as good doing it. We don't celebrate our wedding anniversary because it always felt like an administrative formality and inevitability. But we do celebrate the improbable night we met. Physically, intellectually, emotionally, comedically, competitively, we feel dangerously well matched. She irritates me some times (why do some people need lotion? It's GROSS!), and I return the favor. But her abiding and fundamental goodness makes those little things feel so trivial. I love Human Ghostwife to pieces. Tl;dr: I like my wife a lot. She's great. Edited to fix a few typos. npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter Who else is having a pretty bad time? npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter Having money (and not even very much money) is the best thing I've ever done for my mental health. Diet, exercise, being Lrrr's right claw man, seeking knowledge and wisdom, touching boobs, writing music, therapy, having close meaningful friendships and a strong sense of community... nothing has come close to a fat wad of cash. npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter No, I'm not saying that they're not dangerous (they totally are) or that they shouldn't be taken seriously (they should be). I'm saying that they're unserious goobers who don't give a fuck about doing a good job. npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter What Lrrr is trying to say is that a political program geared exclusively toward revenge and humiliation of the loyal opposition has no underlying substance or plan for the future. It's fundamentally unserious. Putting idiots and shitposters in charge of everything only makes sense when you realize it's because the president's got nothing else, no intelligible program and no direction like a big stupid bitchy little bitch. npub1ceh6fvtle0040ue0shg6aexler27e9e5w2cecdu380qe5qps5g2sl2pg25 Human Ghostwriter I had an insurance physical today, and unless my blood turns our to be poison and my urine is syrup, things look great. My blood pressure was 119/76, I'm half an inch taller than I thought I was, and I've lost twenty pounds in the last four months. Feeling pretty fucking good about myself for a change.