Comments Disabled

All, it is with sadness that I am having to disable comments at the present time, while I work with Comcast and law enforcement to address this ongoing issue with said troll. It sucks how one person can ruin everything.

I do know a couple of change ringers from Little Rock, AR so maybe someone I know knows of this person. Shit, maybe the troll is one of the Little Rock change ringers who does personally know me but is using a pen name to conceal his or her identity. Whatever the case, I will not put up with this abuse anymore and am doing what I have to in order to shut this person down while I work with the powers that be.

I’m sorry it has come to this, but what can you do?

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When Trolls Up Their Game…

I cannot for the life of me wonder why the actual fuck anyone would follow a blog that he or she does not like. Look, there are blogs I don’t like. Do I go on those blogs just to cause trouble? No way. I’ve got more productive shit to do with my time than to troll the fuck out of a blog that does not interest me or which has content that I find distasteful.

As a hardcore libertarian I am all about freedom of speech. I will defend your right to speak your mind, whether or not I agree with you. I will give you your space. That’s fine. Alas, when you intrude on my space is when the boundary gets crossed.

Look, I have occasional disagreements with even my best friends. That’s part of life. No two people are going to agree 100% on something. That’s fine. We have our say and move on. Alas, when some random asshole apparently does nothing but disagree with me, yet continues to follow and comment my blog, well let’s just say said asshole apparently has way too damn much time on his hands.

Whatever. I’ve had it. I’ve tried to put in safeguards. Blacklisting, locking comments to registered users. The next thing would be to privatize my blog but given that I have a lot of good info for passers by I really do not want to have to do that. I also don’t want to shut comments off entirely.

However, I do have another trick up my sleeve. Apparently Comcast has an abuse hotline (thanks Laina for showing me!). Surely this person’s behavior is a violation of their abuse policy. I will be writing them an email and if I don’t get a timely response then I will give them a call. They need to be made aware of the situation.

Armed with this person’s IP address and comment log, it’s time to go after the very root of the problem. This person is making my blogging life miserable.

Seriously dude, get a fucking life. Go out and start your own blog, something. If your hobby is tormenting bloggers, that’s pretty sorry. I can’t imagine what kind of life you must live if that’s how you spend your downtime.

Off to compose my email.

Ink As Therapy

Right on schedule, the Saniderm was ready to come off of my new tattoo and it has now entered the peeling phase, which will last about another week or so. From there I’ll have a finished tattoo that’s ready to show off.

Alas, as any ink enthusiast, ideas have already been swirling in my head for my next one and I think I have a rough concept of what I’ll be getting next. I’ll need to play around with certain design elements but as a matter of “balance” I’ll likely choose placement on the other side in the same spot (since I am all about balance and symmetry – it’s the mathematician/engineer in me). The only one I’ve not yet balanced out is my rib panel but I’m in absolutely no hurry to have my other ribs tattooed – that was a pain unlike anything I’d ever felt before.

Anyway, I digress. Obviously I’ve done the whole gamut for “therapy” – some of it forced upon me by those who also forced existence upon me, some of it voluntarily. I’ve done the whole counseling, behavioral modification and even antidepressant/antipsychotic medications. Nothing ever worked. Nothing was able to quiet my tortured mind. I guess that’s a challenging element of autism – it seems a lot of traditional treatment methods don’t work on us. Maybe this further signifies that autism should not be classified as an illness or disorder? That’s something to chew on for a later time.

Back to the topic at hand. Ink as therapy. Tattoo enthusiasts throw around the term “ink therapy” all the time. Alas, as weird as it sounds, there might be some truth to that statement. As I’ve eluded to it in previous posts, but for me, being in the hot seat is when I’m most at peace. For me, when Jade is working her magic on my human canvas is the only time my mind is ever “quiet” as it were. All the rest of the time it’s racing, typical of those in my tribe. I even have trouble sleeping due to it. Sleep? Hah, what the fuck is that?

With as much negative stigma as there still is around tattoos, the benefits I’ve reaped from my favorite hobby have been incredible. I feel like my overall pain tolerance has improved (day-to-day bumps and scrapes aren’t as bothersome to me as they used to be) and maybe I’ve even gotten an immune boost because I don’t get sick like I used to. There are studies suggesting such too.

In that light, ink has been the one thing that has been able to do what counseling, drugs, etc. were all unable to do. It centers me. It’s meditative. It makes me feel “good.” Shit, as they seem to be the only form of “treatment” that works for me it seems to me my health insurance should fucking pay for my ink. It’s better “medicine” than any of the poison that criminal enterprise known as Big Pharma peddles as such.

I’ve found something that works for me, so at the very least that should be respected and tolerated. Whether or not you even like my tattoos is of no never mind to me (art is subjective after all – a masterpiece to person A could be butt-ugly to person B) as I’ve now transcended past tattoos solely for meaning to the point of just getting them because they look cool and feel good. Call that hedonistic as it were, I admit it is. I’m not hurting myself or anyone else in the process so I fail to see where that’s a problem.

Stay cool and ink it up!

RIP Roland Orzabal’s Luscious Locks :'(

I never thought I’d see the day one of my musical idols hacked his hair off, but I guess that day has come, and it makes my soul cry. Why oh why did you do it, Roland?!?!?

ro-hair

First he ditched the earrings, now his hair? Why does it have to be this way?

My only thought when I saw a short-haired Roland:

I’m depressed. Excuse me while I go have a tune on the pipes in lamentation – maybe my bagpipe arrangement of “Shout” played a half speed will work…

 

In Violent Times…

…just get a sick new tat!!!

What do you think? Of course I’ll get a better pic when it’s healed and out of the Saniderm but there you go.

What do you think? Have you ever gotten a song lyric tattooed on you?

Edit to show an artist’s pic, before the Saniderm was applied. She was good – she even got a tiny bit of my fabulous meggings in the pic:

My Pre-Ink Routine

So with my appointment coming up in about 5 hours, I’ve begun my pre-ink routine to get me into the tattoo mind frame. As much as it’s old hat to me by this point, there’s still some level of nerve involved for what’s about to come. Ink enthusiasts will tell you that never really goes away, no matter how many tattoos you get.

Of course, being on the autism spectrum and liking “order” as it were, I have my routine down pat to get me into that mind set and get me on my game to endure the pain and resulting adrenaline/endorphin rush of the tattoo process. It’s calming and reassuring, as is every set routine we autists have (whether we’re inked or not) as deviating from order and structure is unduly stressful to us.

So my pre-ink routine starts with the morning of the session, with some meditation to center my thoughts and usually over a cigar and coffee. This routine starts to prep me for what’s to come mentally, while I recite affirmations to myself. “You will overcome the pain and you will have a beautiful piece of art” or something similar.

Then a couple of hours before the session I’ll eat a fairly sizable meal from a favorite restaurant. This gives me the fuel I need to endure the session, but enough time to start digesting so I’m not feeling lethargic or weighed down by the time I get to the hot seat. Comfort food, for me usually in the form of a nice meal from my hometown’s top 100 Chinese restaurant (yet, whoever thought podunk Abilene, TX would be home to one of the top 100 chinese restaurants in the US?).

While I’m processing my meal I usually stop for another cigar, which I smoke while rocking out to my jams. Music motivates me, and especially music I emotionally connect to. Admittedly that usually means my TFF with some others mixed in. By this point I’m in a state of “alert relaxation” and am ready for the process to begin.

After the first couple of lines have been completed the nerves have worn off and I’m usually settled into my zone to carry me through the session. I’ve now entered that state of pure meditation where I feel most at peace. As odd as it sounds, when I’m in the hot seat is when I’m most at peace, at any given time during my life.

So that’s it. That’s my pre-ink routine. I’m not saying this works for everyone, but it really works for me. Maybe even neurotypicals have a similar routine? Maybe some autists also have something similar? Let me know!

I Got Trump Fucked

Just a little aside.

Though my adjusted gross income between this year and last year was within $400, my tax refund was half what it was last year. The re-structuring hit me hard, putting me in a higher tax bracket and doubling down on the “single with no kids” penalty, yeah, I’m hurting badly.

At least I didn’t owe I guess. Bleh. Yet another way this administration has hurt those of us in the working class. Excuse me while I go cry.