Currently Listening Burst & Bloom By Cursive see related

I have three (3) points to share.

(1)

I can not stop playing Finger Frenzy. I can’t.

I’m saying that there are synapses in my brain that have rendered me physically unable to stop typing the English alphabet at lightning speeds.

Once—one time—I squeaked out a run of 3.172 seconds.

I will not rest until I breach three seconds. This is my Everest.

My fingers are frenzied—this much is certain—but only time will tell if they have what it takes.

There are videos on there of sub-2-second runs. There are people in the world who can type the entire alphabet in less than two seconds.  1.45 seconds, to be precise.  Insane.

EDIT: I finally did it.

My loins are quivering and there’s spittle running down my cheeks, but I fucking did it. By a large margin.

Beat that. I dare you.

(2)

It seems the gods of science are once again striving toward a world where rape is a little easier—or at the very least, a little less messy, and with fewer bites and fingernail scratches.

 What I’m talking about is a nasal spray aphrodisiac that works in minutes.

Local6.com wrote:

Doctors said women who used the drug PT-141 in test studies felt a tingling or throbbing followed by a strong desire to have sex immediately after spraying their noses.

"In the case of women, what we're really doing is sensitizing the vaginal tissue so when they get touched or stimulated, they would feel it a little bit more," Dr. Carl Spana said.  

Being a skeptic at heart, however, I think I’ll stick to chloroform rags.

I’ve decided that I’m moving to Dildo.

I am, of course, talking about Dildo, Newfoundland, that quaint little town that is, according to AroundTheBay.com, “named after the shape of the headland that forms the harbour.”

 

As long as we’re discussing erotic novelties, I will point out that NASA apparently has plans to launch a dildo into space.

...don't ask.

Currently Listening Illinois By Sufjan Stevens see related

 
Having endured for this long, I stand today: nineteen years old.

I’ll spare you any lengthy reflection on the implications of this day because there aren’t many—this birthday did not yield a drivers license, or even the legal ability to purchase tasteless commercial pornography. Any desires I might have ever had to bathe in coursing rivers of smut have long been realized.

Nor will I offer any pensive contemplation of my accomplishments, as I’m not sure that I have any outside of still being able to name all 151 original Pokémon and owning a $50 Chinese ping-pong paddle called the Double Happiness Hurricane.

No fewer than two people today offered to bake me a cake for the occasion, but I had to decline their offers, despite claims of baking proficiency on the order of chef.

What these people don’t understand is that I don’t eat cake. There is something foul and subversive within its frosted strata that I will probably never fully trust.

Furthermore, it should be taken into consideration the sorts of people who actually bake the abovementioned cakes.

For instance:
 

The gesture of the hands here really helps convey the theme of this clip, namely: insanity. In the context of young Stephanie baking a cake (a premise established with the assistance of the eggbeater and chef's cap) the audience is left asking:

"What is so crazy about baking a cake?"

The answer is simple: Using a messy recipe.

But unfortunately that life-saving maxim is not very well indicated in this .GIF snippet. Perhaps either an extended visual sequence or textual aid could help clarify Stephanie's cautionary gestures, but nevertheless—

It is clear that cakes are not a matter to be taken lightly.