I'm just Super Saiyan

No one tells me anything, just saiyan…


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EVILLLLLL

So, something evil happened today…PHOTOBUCKET DECIDED TO TAKE A GLORIOUS SHIT ON MY PICTURES.

I know this is not something that people would consider evil. But it is.

According to dictionary type folks, evil is being morally bad, causing injury or harm to someone, or marked by bad luck or events.

Photobucket has harmed me…by fucking with my hobby. Well, fuck you photobucket.

I’ve been on my feet, running around at work, I come home, and behold – no pictures on my blog! I work night-shift tonight…so I don’t have time to get mad at photobucket.

When someone gives you evil lemons, throw that shit out cause that lemonade is gonna be hella bad luck. Instead, find some solutions to your lemonade problem, like…FLICKR.

Yep, so, bare (or bear) with me as I switch over to the picture beast known as Flickr. Some pictures may not be fully visible at the moment…I want you to just pretend its the funniest picture you’ve ever seen in you life. Lean back in your chair, laugh your ass off, tip your hat to your computer screen, and go about your internet browsing.

I will slave away fixing this issue…slowly. Mostly cause it sounds like work. And I’m not into working right now…like…for my hobby…cause I’m already doing that in the reals.

– SSM.

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FLYING DEVIL CREATURES

Okay, so, as a person who has a biology degree I feel that I should be able to appreciate all of the little creatures and critters that roam this earth. Their anatomy is beyond interesting, studying their traits and characteristics makes for great insight into what makes this little world of ours so majestic. We have something to learn from even the smallest insects.

That being said, I think butterflies are the spawn of Satan.

I realize, after reading that last sentence again, that it sounds pretty harsh. So let me try and come up with another way to convey my feelings…uh…uhhh…um…  Yeah, no, I stand by that statement. I really, really don’t like them.

Look, don’t get me wrong, I love looking at butterfly pictures. I love microscopic images that show the details of their bad ass wings and pigments. I think their migration patterns are cool. Their life-cycle is fascinating. I even enjoy observing their little preserved bodies in museums.

But if those flying devil creatures come near me…I can’t help it. Some kind of deep, instinctive, survival adrenaline rushes over me when a butterfly crosses into my personal space. I just freak the fuck out. I scream bloody murder, my hands thrash around defensively, I run around in a random zig-zag pattern.

I don’t even fully understand why I’m so afraid of them. I mean, I am a giant human person, I have the means to destroy every inch of those savage butterfly beasts if I wanted to…

My fear of butterflies just can’t be explained. Like, I know why I hate roaches – they’re grimy, they infest your home, they can outlive you (I don’t trust immortal things). I know why I hate mosquitoes – I have an allergy to their bites so my skin puffs up like a fucking balloon if they decide to feast on my blood, also that buzz noise they make is annoying. Moths eat my clothes, so I hate them too.

But, butterflies? I got no idea. I love everything about them except when they’re on me.  Kind of like kids with runny, dripping nose fluids…they’re cute but don’t put them near me.

One time, I went to this place called Butterfly World. I agreed to go to this place because the way it was explained to me was that it was like a caged zoo for butterflies. You would enter a room and there’d be a net shielding you from the demonic flutter monsters, so you could look at their pretty colors and shit but you were totally safe.

I was wrong.

Apparently, these net shields were optional – like my sanity. This place was like a free-range chicken farm. Those motherfuckers were all over the place and I was scared for my life. I had my hands up in front of my face, waving sporadically around my head to make sure they wouldn’t land on me.

I just kept chanting Ace Ventura’s bat cave mantra – “I am not afraid. I am NOT afraid. I really like it here. I will fear no living creature...”

Then we entered a room towards the end, where apparently prehistoric giant butterflies lived. Descendants of Mothra took shelter in this butterfly zoo, and they were thirsty for my flesh. Mothra was a defender of earth…but her children only wanted to terrorize me. In my head I instantly came up with a million escape routes, my mother and brother looked worried about my bizarre demeanor. They didn’t understand, they couldn’t save me. No one could.

I shoved my way to the front of the room where the door was, but I was too late.  Mutant Butterfree did a kamikaze nose dive straight into my face. SHIT!!!!!!!!!!

I screamed and treated it like fire. STOP. DROP. ROLL. My arms flailed around, I wanted to call for help but all I could vocalize from my mouth was something that sounded like a cross between a whale giving birth and the Silent Hill siren.

Suddenly I could hear my moms voice, she brought me back to reality.

Mutant butterfree had spared me. Besides the emotional harm that came from embarrassing my family, no one was physically harmed in the altercation. I consider myself lucky to have survived. I went into Butterfly World and made it out alive. I hope I don’t have nightmares tonight.

Also, can we like, take a second to realize that Butterfree – the pokemon – is 3’07” feet or 1.1 meters tall? I HAVE EVERY RIGHT TO BE AFRAID OF THIS.

What about you guys? What fear do you have that no one else seems to be able to relate to? What fears do you have that not even you understand why you have them?