Tag: wtf

#TRYHARDSZN2025: it has begun!

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

WSB: Douglasville teen accepted into 58 college, amassing around $1M in cumulative scholarships

It’s that time of the year again, where overachieving teenagers across the globe start playing the game of applying to as many schools as they possibly can so that they can brag about how many they got into, and how much cumulative scholarship dollars they can earn despite the fact that combined value is not actually a viable thing, but it sounds good for social and media purposes.

And naturally, the first instance of #TRYHARDSZN for 2025 starts in the Metro Atlanta area, where a notably substantial number of #TRYHARDS seems to emerge from every year.  But we have a kid out of Douglasville for a change, to have been reportedly accepted into 58 different colleges, with a combined scholarship amount already around $1M.

Seeing as how the vast majority of the low-end schools are never mentioned in these stories, it’s apparent that the most notable school this guy was accepted into was Alabama.  No Ivies, no Stanford, no UVA, Georgia Tech or any other prestigious schools were listed on this kid’s academic rap sheet.  So although the initial numbers sounded impressive, a little bit of digging reveals that it might not be as impressive as the numbers might lead to believe.

I digress though, this is only the first #TRYHARD of the season, and will undoubtedly not be the last.  Can’t really come out of the box firing napalm here, and I’m sure as the #SZN progresses, we’ll start to hear about some truly insufferable #TRYHARDS clearing 70-80 schools, all the Ivies and amassing over $10M.

All things considered though, I like this kid as far as his extracurriculars are concerned.  His GPA isn’t mentioned anywhere because it’s probably not 4.0 or above, but boy is very active in extracurriculars, and one noteworthy thing I’ve never seen from a prior #TRYHARD is that he’s basically a part of the school’s cheer team among other groups and organizations he’s a part of.

And Douglasville is becoming almost as bad as the shitty South Fulton area that a lot of the #TRYHARDs of previous year have emerged from, so good on this kid from taking some big steps to get the fuck away out of that cesspool.

Anyway, with this #TRYHARD now in the books, #TRYHARDSZN2025 has officially begun.  Hopefully there won’t be such an avalanche of #TRYHARDs that I begin to feel exasperated and burned out on making all these posts, like last #SZN started to get to towards the end, but instead a nice steady pace of #TRYHARDs that works optimally with my writing schedule and availability.

Hey, we all can wish

I wish airport theory were around 10-15 years ago

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

NYP: dumbasses of today theorize the redundancy of airport policies, makes “challenge” of trying to traverse an airport prior to a flight in as short as time as possible

Honestly, I’ve long since thrown in the towel at trying to rationalize the dumb shit that the people of today do.  Go ahead and call it me getting old, but I’m seldom ever surprised at the things that become trends, so much as I’m always just like “ehh, that’s a thing now?  Fucking ok”

So not only am I not surprised that the trend labeled airport theory is a thing now, I’m more surprised that it’s taken this long for it to have been given a name, because people have been testing airport theory for as long as I’ve been flying, especially in the post-9/11 days where the TSA came to existence and the obnoxious policies that are mostly in place today came to fruition.

People have been testing the boundaries and limits of what they can get away with, with airport policies since 2001, but the only difference really is the existence of TikTok, and the gradually sheep-herder mentalities of the people today who see something and immediately want to mimic it en masse to where it rapidly picks up steam and becomes yet another dumbass trend that’s quick to be labeled a Gen-Z thing, which I don’t always agree with, because I’ve seen people of all ages testing airport theory over the last two decades-plus.

My only real thought is that I really wish airport theory were a thing back 10-15 years ago, when I had a Delta flight pass and could basically hop on any flight to anywhere in the continental United States, as a standby, which I obviously utilized to tremendous effect, contributing towards me crushing a large portion of my 30 MLB baseball park journey.

I always played it smart, monitored conditions and kept abreast of as many variables as I could to optimize my chances at getting on all the flights I wanted to, but I wasn’t without my share of failures too.  I’ve been stuck in places like Seattle, Minneapolis, Portland and failed to get out of Reagan-National countless times, and more times than I can count, I was unable to get out of Atlanta for the start of a trip, regardless of how much things seemed possible beforehand.

If travel theory were a thing 10-15 years ago, my success rate at getting on planes would have likely skyrocketed, because when airlines actually adhere to policy, the dumbasses who are testing airport theory and trying to get from airport entrance to the jetbridge giving themselves 15 minutes would have forfeited their seats eons ago in comparison, and for every idiot that insisted on testing airport theory there were, would be one more standby passenger cleared to board the aircraft.

In fact, some of my worst stories involving standby travel probably involve dorks who were testing airport theory, inadvertently, before it was even coined as being airport theory.  Like me getting cleared to board an aircraft but then being bumped at the eleventh hour and 59th minute because some fuckwit managed to bitch and complain and eke their way to the gate, and reclaim their forfeited seat because the squeaky wheel always gets the grease.

But yeah, if airport theory were a thing 10-15 years ago when I was jetsetting and traveling nearly twice a month, I would’ve not only had a way easier time in traveling, I probably would have traveled more and explored the country if I knew it would be so easy to travel.

The funny thing is, and I don’t care enough about it to look it up, but I’m really curious to see how much of all these airport theory videos are occurring in Atlanta.  If there’s not a lot of evidence of airport theory being tested at ATL, then I can comfortably say that if there was, the trend would undoubtedly come to a screeching halt.  Fewer airports are staffed with as many people who relish and take sadistic, arrogant satisfaction at ruining the days of travelers than Atlanta Hartsfield Latoya Jackson Intergalactic Spaceport and Nail Emporium. 

The irony is that they don’t do it by being incompetent, they do so by being as procedurally bullet proof as possible, adhering to every single bulleted rule there could be in airport, airline, TSA policy, with the express purpose of fucking every single person who tries to skirt protocol, test airport theory and try and get one up on system.

I’d love to see one of these TikTok dorks make a video where they’re like “uhh hey what’s up guys, I’m at ATL, I’ve got 15 minutes to board my Delta flight at T7, and I just got to security” and then it cuts to them having moved up maybe 7-8 people and then they’re like “welp, looks like I missed my flight” or they get to their gate, the doors are closed, and the gate agent is smugly finishing their outbound report, as they calmly tell the camera “sir/ma’am, procedure dictates that you be present at the gate at X time OR we will forfeit your seat” and then airport theory is basically defeated.

Either way, I wish this shit existed 10-15 years ago.  I would’ve thrived as a traveler, getting on more flights at a way higher clip, and seen more of the country before it completely went to shit.

I miss the pandemic, for real

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

I’m sure I’ve mentioned this before, or even posted about it before, but I really do miss the pandemic.  This thought usually crosses my mind whenever I’m in a scenario that wouldn’t have existed during the pandemic, like being stuck in traffic on my commute to the office, or in this most recent episode, whenever an illness permeates its way into my house and waylays fucking everyone, leading to several miserable days for all.

A stomach bug of some sort, was picked up by both #2 and I concurrently, most likely at a birthday party that only we went to on Monday; Tuesday was the customary incubation day for said bug, and by Wednesday in the AM hours, shit hit the fan and we were both victims of near-identical symptoms, all of them unpleasant.  It should also be noted that Wednesday was #1’s birthday, which meant I literally spent the entirety of my own child’s birthday in bed and basically incapable of functioning.

Thankfully, #1 was not ill on her birthday, but what I feared most came to fruition the night prior, which led to this avalanche of thoughts and emotions manifesting into a salt-filled, nihilistic sounding post about how I thought the world was a vastly superior place when a killer pandemic was ravaging through it.  But Thursday was apparently the incubation day for #1, and by the AM hours, shit hits the fan, and then it’s me, of course, at like 70% myself, as the one staying up until 4:30 in the morning catching her vomiting every single half hour while the bug takes its turn with her.

Shit like this, would never have occurred during the pandemic.  The common cold didn’t happen at all, during the pandemic.  It was one of the most glorious years in human existence, 2020 was, where there wasn’t even a single day over the span of a 365-day span except for one exception which I won’t delve into, where anyone in my house was sick.  No questionable mornings where anyone woke up with a tinge in the sinuses, and requiring some preventative care, no sniffles after going out somewhere, not a single cold, much less the flu, any sinus infections or stomach bugs like the one ravaging my house right now.

No god damn sicknesses whatsoever, and it was marvelous.  But in retrospect, there’s no way that would have been allowed to continue, because that would have basically killed the medical and pharmaceutical industries, and can’t possibly have healthy populations when there’s profits to be made for white folks.

But in addition to the sheer lack of sicknesses rewarded to the intelligent who exorcised caution, it was a world where nobody had to commute into offices, remote work was the norm and championed and applauded at the adaptability and fluidity of the workforce, and not politicized and weaponized as it’s been today.

And speaking of politics, it’s the then-administration’s sheer idiocy behind pandemic response that basically united a country to boot out the orange clown from his first dictatorship, and for a brief moment in time, it genuinely felt like the United States were back to becoming America again instead of being shitty ‘Murica.

Naturally, no good thing is truly ever allowed to last, and when the dust settles, Americans always falls back into their self-destructive patterns, and here we are back to dictatorship #2, which has somehow managed to feel even more terrifying than the first one.

At this point, I genuinely wouldn’t mind if some fucking savages at a Chinese wet market started trying to eat some moar bats or some possums or some other feral wild animal, and try to get COVID-29 started up to try and correct the world all over again.  I know many probably think that the parties involved in the original COVID-19 bat-eating scenario are a bunch of hindsight murderers, but frankly I see them as quite the contrary, and wouldn’t mind if that shit fired itself up again, if it would bring us back to the utopia that 2020 really turned out to be in retrospect.

I’m tired of commuting to the office, I’m sick of stupid fucks who go out while sick with no regard for the people around them, and I’m sick to fucking death of those people passing those illnesses onto my families and allowing them into my home.  I know COVID-19 took a lot of people out, but I’m having a real hard time, especially as time goes on, at thinking their negatives actually outweigh all the positives that emerged from the time.

My 600 Lb. Life needs to go into rebuilding mode

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

The other night, I logged into Max and went to My 600 Lb. Life, hoping that there would be a new episode posted.  Season 13 has been a clunker of a season, with no real standout participants for all the wrong reasons, and the show has always had a tendency to start and finish their seasons with the best or worse people. 

Episode 7 Juan was another forgettable episode, and I figured that there would have to be someone better to close out the season, but it’s never easy to tell how many episodes there are in these arbitrary seasons, because it’s never been consistent.  So after I logged in and checked in on the series, it became apparent that Juan was the last episode of the season, and mythical wife and I are just kind of like, oh..

Counting season 12, I think it’s safe to say that the series as a whole has put up two straight clunker seasons.  There have been no real memorable participants, and although it’s the guiltiest of pleasures to see when some of them turn into shitheads and fail spectacularly, an occasional success story is always welcome and leaves viewers like me feeling optimistic and satisfied for five minutes. 

But over the course of the last two seasons, there have been barely any successes, even fewer to actually succeed and get the weight loss surgery, and an increasing number of participants whom never even get to Houston and the episodes are these droll journeys of stock footage of Dr. Now wandering around his clinic or St. Joe’s Hospital lamenting at the dangers of being morbidly obese, and occasional video calls with participants where they’re all super eager to comply and participate, before they hang up and do jack shit.

I know the pandemic made TLC and the show have to pivot and allow for more remote participants, but what was the exception has gradually become normal, and the episodes where you just know that a big motherfucker ain’t going to step foot in Houston and actually get face to face with Dr. Now, where the real charm and magic of the show tends to happen.

In fact, S13E06 Deshaun was probably the most depressing episode of My 600 Lb. Life I’ve ever seen, and that’s really saying something considering the clinging to survival nature of the show as a whole.  The man from Omaha had no goals, no aspirations, no dreams, and no motivation whatsoever, with the closest thing to a want being, getting out of Omaha and going to fucking Missouri.  Like, when the place you want to end up going to is Missouri, you know the bar couldn’t possibly be buried under the ground any lower.

Unsurprising, he like loses no weight, dodges his weigh-ins, so we never get a number of his actual weight, dodges his virtual therapy sessions, is extremely difficult to get a hold of with Dr. Now, and by the time the episode ends, two months early, he’s completely fallen out of contact, and is speculated to have blocked Dr. Now’s office outright. 

As I’m watching this episode, I know all human life is precious and all that, but I genuinely was feeling like this is a person that really has no business, existing.  He probably draws disability, basically exists solely to eat trash and play video games and watch television, but he provides even less purpose to the world than inmates in prison, whom at least have to do some sort of labor to repay society.

I’d never been more depressed watching an episode of My 600 Lb. Life more than I have with Deshaun, and that’s a pretty bold proclamation because there have been episodes where the participants have actually died.

Frankly, I think the show really needs to go back to the drawing board with their format.  It genuinely feels like it’s been on auto-pilot for the last 4-5 seasons, but it’s easier to ignore when you get the occasional gem of a participant who is a total trainwreck, an ass to Dr. Now, which usually takes the shackles off of him to start zinging back, but then eventually goes to therapy, supercharges their mental health and they get on the train and actually lose some fucking weight.

But over the last few seasons, the show has basically been following a template.  Every episodes starts with the participant waking up, lamenting on how they’re surprised to be alive, they have an awkward shower and then eat the mother of all breakfasts before the first commercial break.  Month 1 starts with them all talking about this doctor in Houston that specializes in helping people like me as if we all haven’t seen the last 13 seasons of this show, and depending on where they’re located, either they make a very long drive where you just know every participant is looking forward to the highways of road food available to them and they gain an extra 5-10 lbs before they see Dr. Now, or as has been increasing, they’re just too far away from Houston, and have a mostly pointless video call with Dr. Now, eagerly agree to get started on the program, and then hang up and probably go on another binge once the cameras are off.

Afterward, 9 out of 10 participants completely fail to meet the initial weight loss milestone, and nobody ever exceeds it, and Dr. Now has been too nice and too empathetic over the last two seasons, mostly because his reputation seems to precede him and nobody wants to throw hands with Ali, and he has little reason to be tough in return, and he just tells them the same goal, 70 pound in two munt and they’re on their merry way.

The show then goes into a strange fast forward through the remainder of the months, with sometimes them going back to Houston for follow-ups, and others ducking Dr. Now or their appointed therapy, and if there’s any surgeries, they usually happen in like months 7-10, and that’s only if they’ve managed to get their shit together and lost at least 80% of their goal weight loss, and find a place to live in Houston. 

The endings of every episode feel real rushed and hackneyed, and it’s fairly obvious to me that such is done in order to create separation between the filming of an episode of My 600 Lb. Life versus their eventual Where Are They Now? episode, and I feel like the latter is probably why the prime show has gotten so templatized, because the spin-off has become as much of a mainstay as the prime, and it’s like it’s a means to conserve content so that there can be a follow-up.

Like I said, I think the show needs to take a few steps back and reset their approach to producing.  I get that Dr. Now is like 80, not going to be doing this much longer, and probably on a personal level, doesn’t want to deal with shitheads like the Assanti brothers, and people who give him a colossal amount of grief.  But this shit is television, and we degenerate viewers need to see some shitheads and strong personalities that bring the best-worst out of Dr. Now, and everyone ends up happy when he lights a fire under their asses and drags results out of them.

So we need some real strong participants, that will bring out the Dr. Now fans all love, perhaps some more stringent participant rules and guidelines to ensure we have fewer Deshauns who turtle up the whole episode and more Jonathans (S13E01) who actually manage to do things with his life.  The current format has also been a little deceptive in presentation, because most everyone over the last few seasons fails after their initial consult, and we’re never seeing the diet cheating they’re doing, so that it’s more of a surprise (but it’s not) when they go to their next weigh-in and have only lost like 7 lbs.  It’s like, we know they’re going to fuck up, might as well let us see it.

Fewer remote participants because the journey is already hard enough, but adding insurmountable distance on top it leads to more episodes you just know are going to eventually dead end, and at one point, I found it to be astounding when there was a season where zero people actually got surgery, but now it’s becoming the norm, and this isn’t helping.

I love the show too much to give up on it cold turkey, but we’ve literally had two straight duds of seasons.  Megalomedia, TLC, and the Nowzaradans need to get their shit together, and breathe some life back into the series, because although I might, I can’t speak for everyone else out there, on if they’ll tolerate sitting through a third straight turdy pound turd, especially when we all know what the series is capable of.

WTF is AEW doing #387

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

When I first saw this shirt, I thought it was a joke, a bad photoshop from some shitty wrestling shitposting meme account or something.  But nope, it’s very much real, and actually available to you for the low, low price of $29.99 plus tax and shipping, which means it’s basically a plain white t-shirt for somewhere just under $40.

Of course I know that there are all sorts of brand name designers out there who have been peddling plain white t-shirts for upwards of $100+, but they’re often times players in the egregious fashion industry, whom most of them have earned the right to hawk their shitty wares for exorbitant prices, and people not smart enough to realize that they’re being fleeced will actually buy them.  But yeah, them, they’re not a professional wrestling promotion, whom most equate their product and their merchandise as tantamount to carny shit, and only exist at that price range solely on the basis of inflation.

Yes, I can see the Property of the Death Riders wordmark on them, anyone (with a magnifying glass) can see it, but the point remains is that AEW’s merch team has basically posted up the absolute bare minimum effort in an actual product available to the public.

In the past, I’ve called out other bullshit cash grab products like Faarooq’s DAMN shirt which is basically just the word DAMN written on the chest in Rockwell Bold, and the B-Team’s signature shirt, which was obviously deliberately shittily made to help sell the fact that Axel and Bo were B-tier talents, but still turned into a screen print and peddled for $30 a pop (plus tax and shipping).

Well, Property of the Death Riders joins that club of some of the worst wrestling shirts in history, without any question at all.  Like, I’m becoming desensitized to a lot of the weird and silly shit that AEW does that I have a hard time grasping because I grew up with the WWE, but to offer up a plain white shirt with the tiniest of logos as an actual product definitely stands out in a sea of weird and silly shit, at least in my mind.

Here’s the funny thing though, as I’m typing this out, there’s a part of me that actually does admire the fact that in spite of the overall bullshit this shirt really is, as far as utility and being able to wear it out in public outside of wrestling shows or flaunting fandom, this shirt actually probably a GOAT.  Being a plain white t-shirt, it’s a perfect undershirt, and the lack of any design whatsoever on it means that there’s zero concern of any design being visible behind an opaque white dress shirt.  And 10 times out of 10, whenever I’d be wearing a plain white t-shirt, it’s tucked into dress pants, and the dorky little Death Riders wordmark wouldn’t be a factor at all.

But I’m not really fan of white t-shirts in general, because white fabric is like this ticking time bomb where they’ll slowly turn yellow from absolutely no other reason than existing, and any exposure to air, water, moisture accelerates it, and even more so when exposed to human oils or perspiration.  I literally had a few white tees that were still in their Ziploc bags, completely unopened and unworn, and when the day came where I felt the need for one, and ripped open the sack, it was yep, yellowed with age.

White t-shirts are basically for weddings and funerals, or any other instances where I’d need a specifically white t-shirt underneath a more priority garment.

Back to the Death Riders white shirt, the jokes just write themselves, as far AEW’s fanbase is concerned.  The schlubs who will be willing to plunk down the cash to get these bad boys don’t have to worry about them yellowing from age, because they’ll rapidly turn from the sweat, nacho cheese from Daily’s Place, and vape juice they’ll be exposed to, accelerated whenever they see Toni Storm, Harley Cameron or Skye Blue.

All these observations, without even having to even scratch the surface of what failure the whole Death Riders faction has turned into, because when they formed, they had a ton of momentum, but as is often the case with Tony Khan booking, there’s no focus, no end game or no execution, and all members of the group have been swirling around doing dick and butt for weeks, with no end in sight.

It really is incredible how Jon Moxley in NJPW took his Death Rider persona and absolutely slayed over there, but bringing the name to AEW and making it a group has been absolute death to the brand and identity of it completely.

And I don’t really get it either, the whole white t-shirt thing was Bryan Danielson’s, and the Death Riders basically smothered him and killed his career, and suddenly Mox picks up the whole white shirt thing, acting like a jacked psychotic Andrew WK or something?

As the subject of these posts goes, jesus, wtf?

I’m pretty sure basketball is nothing like slavery, bro

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

SI: NBA guard Dennis Schroder, exasperated by how many times he’s been traded in his career, likens the process to ‘modern day slavery’

Fewer things inspire me to get on a keyboard and pound out some words like professional athletes complaining about well, anything, considering the fact that they’re all overgrown man-children who get paid exorbitant amounts of money to play children’s games at an extraordinary level.  And in this case, we have NBA player, Dennis Schroder, whom jaded from witnessing one of the most lopsided and surprising trades in the history of professional sports, decided to air out his frustrations and compare the stress of being traded to being the modern day equivalent to, slavery:

It’s like modern slavery. It’s modern slavery at the end of the day,” Schröder said. “Everybody can decide where you’re going, even if you have a contract.

First, I don’t think Dennis Schroder understands what slavery really is.  As defined by Merriam-Webster, slavery is:

1a: the practice or institution of holding people involuntarily and under threat of violence
1b: the state of a person who is forced usually under threat of violence to labor for the profit of another

Last time I checked, NBA players, like all other professional athletes are usually not under the threat of violence, and furthermore, are actually paid wages in order to perform their trade, which in the case of Dennis Schroder, is to play basketball.

I didn’t know who Dennis Schroder was, and I was tickled by the fact that he actually spent five years in Atlanta.  But I figured that he must be some scrub who has been hanging onto a career in the NBA and has mostly been living on league minimum salaries, which by the way, the NBA absolute league minimum is still $1.1 million dollars, and more for guys who have the years of experience that Schroder has, which is to say that being an NBA player pays at the very least 1.1 million times more than what slaves got when slavery was a thing.

But in fact, Dennis Schroder himself has actually cleared the vaunted $100M mark as far as career earnings go.  In spite of my initial thought that he had to have been some scrub, he’s apparently not a bad player, having averaged 14 points and nearly 5 assists a game as mostly a backup point guard, which are pretty above average numbers in my estimation, and seems worthy of the $100M he’s earned in his career thus far.

But such adds to the absurdity of a guy that’s made this much money to be making the dumb comparison of trading players being akin to slavery, and adds to the narrative of the bullshit tone-deaf chasm between professional athletes and ordinary citizens of the world.

I get that he’s probably frustrated that he’s been traded five times in his career and has had to move now, eleven different times, but that’s all part of the deal of being a professional athlete.  You are nothing but an asset, no matter what management tells you, and when the day is over, you are available to be traded and dumped and moved on a moment’s notice, if the needs of the business outweigh the needs of the asset.

The Luka trade was almost like a league-wide reminder that nobody is untouchable, on top of all other analytical reasons why it’s potentially one of the most lopsided deals in history, but the fact remains nobody is untouchable.  Schroder may be on his eighth NBA team, but there are all sorts of guys way more talented and famous than him that have been bounced around as much as him if not more.

Hall of Famer, Moses Malone has played for nine.  Future Hall of Famer, Vince Carter, played for eight NBA teams in his career.  Apparently, the NBA record is some dude named Ish Smith, who played 14 years in the league, and played for 12 different franchises, having been traded six times.  And even he still cleared $44M in career earnings, galaxies apart from what Kunta Kinte made in Roots.

In all fairness, Schroder quickly realized the colossal fail of what he said, and tried to walk it back some and acknowledge that he makes a lot of money and is blessed to be able to do what he does.  But speech has no undo button, and the media that recorded him will always have on record of him making his completely absurd remarks.  And comparing the woes of being traded as a professional athlete to slavery is about as big of a fuck up as there can be, but he’ll be lucky that the media is still mostly all over the Luka trade to give him any attention beyond the knee-jerk reaction.

Dad Brog (#146): What responsibility feels like

~ dannyhong ~ Leave a comment

Warning: I’m about to talk about masturbation.  I’m pretty sure that in the 24+ years that I’ve been brogging, I’ve never straight up talked about this before, because I’m demure like that, but let’s be grown-ups here, everyone dude fucking does it, and being honest with myself, nobody reads my shit in the first place, so it’s not like I genuinely have anything to be worried about writing about it.

But jerking off into a plastic medical sample cup in the back of a parking garage, because the instructions I was given was that there’s not a huge window of time after collection to get it to the clinic, and oh by the way, the doctor is only in at the location you need to drop off at on Monday and Wednesday between 1-3 pm, no pressure or anything.

Make no mistake, masturbation is masturbation, but this was definitely into the very definition of the term, collecting.  There was absolutely little pleasurable about it, and it was about as challenging as the speeder bike levels in Battletoads to get into the correct space for any collections to even occur, with a clock over your head, unfamiliar settings, the innate concern of any nosy passerbys catching you, and the fact that you have to release and catch into a little plastic cup.

Don’t get me wrong, the mission was still accomplished, but in this particular case, it definitely felt like a mission and not a euphemism, and accomplishing it was more accomplishing than it should’ve been.

And this is what responsibility feels like, as someone who had a vasectomy in order to do my part in protecting my wife and be an ally to bullshit reproductive oppression.  Three months post-op, is the test to make sure that the surgery kept, and that my swimmers are out of the pool and no longer in play.

I can say now, that I’m verified sterile at this point, which was something I was curious about, seeing as how laughably easy it was for me to have children, I thought even if there were the smallest percentile that a vasectomy wouldn’t take, it would be just my luck that I’d fall into it, and have to go back onto the table a second time.  But no, my results showed no swimmers in the sample, so it’s safe to say that the surgery took, and that the shop is officially closed.

Ironic, and sad, how the want to be responsible and considerate and not reckless leads to being a much bigger pain in the ass than if I were just some asshole content to just spooge all over the place and expect everyone else to have it be their problem.

But practice what I preach, and if I want the world to be a better place, got to try and set examples of doing the things that I believe can make that happen, fruitless battle it may seem, like all the time.