My Ass Looks Like a Rorschack Test

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The Screaming Demon of Derby leaves his dark mark of possession

It’s hard to imagine I will ever be good at this, but it’s important to remember when I was new. Saturday was my first time on skates. It felt like I’d been bestowed the power of flight. And crashing. My brain feels ready to be comfortable on my skates already, but my body needs to learn the skills. The intersection of frustration is where the brain feels ready to do something, but the body still needs to learn the skills. Or vice versa.

With running, my body knew what to do. We just had to convince Brain that we wanted to run and that we were enjoying it (we don’t and we never are). Last weekend, I ran a 15k an unprecedented 20 minutes faster than last year, under far worse conditions (rain, no music). On skates, I want to fly, but my legs just do that cartoonish twisty baby giraffe on wheels thing.

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Meet my new friends

I now have a solid idea how hard this is going to be. Still, I’ve never wanted anything more. I’m looking forward to mastering T-Stops. Stopping seems to easy for everyone else, but I didn’t fall until I tried them. My wheels feel clunky and uncompromising. They don’t want to give me friction. They just want to STOP. And down I go. Stay low.

Stay low.

Hands on kneepads. Stay low.

 

A New Chapter

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Through this door, your life’s about to change.

From the moment I heard the thunder of skates, derby had me. Immediately, I saw myself bursting through a paper banner to deafening roars from the crowd, making the rounds to Sparks Are Gonna Fly, skating backwards while swallowing fire (just kidding. That’s dangerous. Maybe). It wasn’t “I want to do this;” it was “I have to do this.”

I was volunteering at the first bout of the season to learn more about the sport, meet some skaters, ask questions and generally see if it was something I actually wanted to do. I’ve never  I wasn’t expecting the contact rush of adrenaline or the welcoming community of badass women who didn’t treat me as an outsider even as I asked a thousand questions- sometimes more than once- and then still not-so-stealthily googled gestures or terms as they happened.

I made a very patient friend that night. She invited me to a meet & greet the following Friday, which I almost didn’t go to because social anxiety. But I recruited a pal and got myself settled with a beer and met a few other skaters. The next day I walked into Five Stride and got outfitted with a rookie package before going to the warehouse to watch the level 3 skaters scrimmage (and a lot more googling).

To say I’m Fresh Meat feels a bit far too advanced. I am raw- not even butchered- meat. It’s safer to assume I’ve never been on skates than to try to remember when I last strapped a pair to my feet, but I imagined it would feel the same as it does when I’m in the water- part of it, made to move in it. Not so. As OMG WTF helped me up in my skates and I realized I could not let go of her hands, my fire skating carney/derby dreams dissolved into visions of myself landing on my face in the ashes.

I am not a patient person. If I am not immediately good at something, I get frustrated and give up. It’s why I can’t play an instrument more advanced than a kazoo. As I stood there, wobbling to find my center, I understood this about myself. But roller derby doesn’t feel like despondent piano lessons or the cheap Fender bass my mom dusted off and sold at a yard sale years ago.

Roller derby feels like fire in my chest. Even if my feet don’t know it yet. I can barely imagine doing some of the footwork I’ve seen the advanced girls do. Hell, I can’t imagine propelling myself forward on skates without a slightly warped floor and gravity.

The first question I’ve been getting from everyone is “aren’t you afraid to fall?” No. Falling is inevitable. I know I’ll fall. A lot. I’m afraid I’m going to quit. So I’m going to document this journey from the very beginning because I am in LOVE with this thing I can not yet do. In 11 weeks when I can (hopefully) make it around the track and stop without running into walls, I want to remember that moment in the skate shop when I couldn’t even stand on wheels by myself. And I want to apply that memory to every frustration I have in the next round of Basic Training. And the next. And tryouts. And one day, with a team of supportive and fierce ladies who all started out wobbling.

13 Pokemon That Look Like Dicks

In honor of Pokemon’s 20th anniversary and the announcement of Pokemon Sun and Moon, I’ve compiled the top most phallic Pokemon.

011Metapod

011 Metapod
If the Jolly Green Giant had Jolly Green Genitals that became sentient, that’s this. And with signature moves like “Harden,” Metapod leaves nothing to the imagination.

600px-014Kakuna

014 Kakuna
Just look at that shiny, smooth bulbous head. Maybe more of a butt plug, actually?

050Diglett

050 Diglett
#thatlookslikeadick

1200px-162Furret

162 Furret
Soft. Furry. Likes narrow spaces.

1200px-185Sudowoodo

185 Sudowoodo
From the Japanese meaning “pseudo wood.”

1200px-202Wobbuffet

202 Wobbuffet
This Pokemon is a literal representation of blue balls.

213Shuckle

213 Shuckle
At my old agency, there was a Creative Director who would get drunk and expound his ideas for insane sex toys. One was an interconnected series of sockets that met in the middle known as the Dick Dock. This is that. Preorder yours today!

1200px-224Octillery

224 Octillery
You’re a little turned on. Admit it. I am.

1200px-256Combusken

256 Combusken
If this isn’t a dick and balls with claws, I know nothing.

308Medicham

308 Medicham
MEDICHAM: the groundbreaking new treatment in fertility! Ask your doctor today. Side effects may include warts.

321Wailord

321 Wailord
Incoming! Literally.

1200px-346Cradily

346 Cradily
Artist: *draws a dick*
CEO: Good, but missing something.
Artist: *draws 8 more dicks*
CEO: …it’s so beautiful *tears*

1200px-602Tynamo

602 Tynamo
Guys. That mouth. Would teeth make this look less like a dick or just like a more terrifying one?

13 Pokemon That Look Like Dicks first appeared on Buzzfeed Community.

Friday Five- Sloths from Space!

Why do short weeks feel so long? I was off Monday so I spent the day absorbed in various space adventures and writing poems about space. Seems like from the moment Bowie died there’s been a lot of cosmic energy tingling my fingertips and everything I write reaches the galaxies. Among the stars- good place to be.

The five things I’m loving this week include sloths and space. If anyone can create a game about sloths in space, I will get on board as writer, editor and big idea-er! Can we make this happen?

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via Not From Caves

1. Sloth art! A coworker snapped a ceramic sloth at a coffee shop in Brooklyn and I waiting for her at her desk with a litany of questions. After the slothterrogation, she wisely returned to the coffee shop and picked up a card for me. That’s the story of how I discovered the whimsical slothtastic art of Not From Caves.

2.Out There Somewhere. This game is so wonderfully challenging and the music reminds me of a fist-pumping-Taio-Cruz-at-the-Jersey-Shore era jam. It’s short, but worth a play. My goal is to get really good at it and do speedruns. Maybe.

3. FIGHT MILK! Fight like a crow. Made fresh by bodyguards (and Charlie).

I just watched It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia in its entirety and cannot recommend it enough. I rarely love a whole show, but these characters are such engaging, awful people and so representative of Philly I’m always cracking up. Every ep is gold.

4. Speaking of Philly, I’m going back for my 2nd year of running the Hot Chocolate 15k (that’s 9.6 miles)! I’m raising funds for charity here (note they don’t take AmEx or Paypal). Throw a few bucks in to help Ronald McDonald House Charities and keep families with sick children focused on the health of their kids. Please donate if you can and share the link either way!

5. The Deadly Tower of Monsters. As a fan of the 70’s era B film aesthetic, I’ve been waiting for this game. And it’s on sale! Star in your own Sci-Fi cult classic and battle REAL monsters that TOTALLY don’t have zippers on their backs. The “director’s commentary” makes a solid addition. Hilarious! Good writing! (Have I mentioned my dream of writing a game? Any artists/devs/musicians out there? I’ve already got a few solid story and character concepts. Just saying.)

Friday Five – Art & Loss

This was a week filled with sad news. Aside from losing David Bowie and Alan Rickman, I lost my Uncle Buddy. He was 91 and the last of his group to go. But we’re still here and need to keep going forward. Here’s five things I’m loving this week.

  1. Obscene Art History Tours. The fam paid a visit this weekend so I took Mom, Sis and StepDad to MoMa where I proceeded to insult classic works of modern art until my mother cried with laughter. I have a deep love and appreciation for art. I routinely ask for museum memberships as gifts because I love spending long afternoons sitting among art while I write or analyzing various works. Seeing The Persistence of Memory up close in real life gave me chills. Art doesn’t have to be intimidating or pretentious. It’s just as fun to walk around and point out buttholes in still life paintings.

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2. Pocket Mortys. You knew this would be on the list again. It’s a super solid Pokemon parody featuring Rick and Morty. However, my favorite part of it has been picking apart the spelling and grammatical errors because I’m a word nerd.

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3. Peach. I’m obsessed with this sure-to-be flash-in-the-pan new social network. It’s a fun way to share photos, what you’re doing/watching/playing, where you are, what you’re thinking and tack a gif onto it all at once in a minimalist feed with no ads (yet!). You can find me on Peach as Carneyvorous, of course.

4. Journal. The idea is to write, make or doodle something every day. It’s not as easy as you’d think. I did this last year and made it until the end of July. The year before, I made it through March. This year, I’m going to do this. I use a 2016 Daily Moleskine Pocket notebook in purple obviously because it’s the color of royalty and insanity. The pocket size is ideal for this project because it’s extra portable (no excuses!) and a smaller page is less intimidating. The goal is to keep it positive and rewire my brain to stop jumping to dark places filled with negative thoughts. So far I’ve drawn my positive attributes as a fruity cocktail, written a poem for David Bowie, penned letters to former lovers and taped powerball ticket origami onto a page as tangible proof of HOPE. I’m in a very noncommittal place this last year so this is my commitment!

5. This quote.

“A film, a piece of theater, a piece of music, or a book can make a difference. It can change the world.” – Alan Rickman

The Old Kind of Tattoos

A few years ago while I was working on a research project at the amusement park I worked for, I stumbled upon this photo called “The Old Kind Of Tattoos” a stranger posted on some crazy niche industry forums about Wildwood in its glory days.

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We lost my Uncle Buddy this week. He was 91. The last of his group. The last of the Greatest Generation in my family.

He used to hand-paint old-fashioned temporary tattoo transfers and sell them at a rickety little stand on the boardwalk. The first time he ever applied one on me, I was so afraid it was going to hurt (and he may have played up that fear just a little- he was silly like that). I remember the stickiness of the tattoo on my arm, the cool, wet sponge and then incredibly, the art was on my skin and the paper was perfectly clean, if not a little slimy. It was SO COOL. I spent hours playing in his tattoo storage closet, swimming waist deep in Ninja Turtles, Mickey Mouses, dragons, Bart Simpson heads, snakes coiled around daggers and MOM hearts. I examined them all and stood on my toes next to his work station to watch him paint. Each one was slightly different. Not a single one was perfect, a product of the slightest tremor or shift in focus.

I have two family photos always displayed. One is my grandparents sitting on the beach. The other is my grandfather and Uncle Buddy manning a machine gun.

My grandparents met shortly before my grandfather enlisted in the Marines at a round robin dance. The ladies formed a circle in the middle and the men formed an outer circle and whoever you ended up in front of was your dance partner for that song. My grandfather landed in front of Mimi. After their first dance, he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to dance as well with anyone else. Each round, he shuffled around the circle so he’d always land in front of her. They married shortly before he deployed for the South Pacific.

While on deployment, Grampi was stationed with Uncle Buddy and he went on and on about his wonderful wife and the letters they constantly exchanged. Uncle Buddy decided he wanted a lovely lady to write letters to and asked Grampi if Mimi had any friends. He began writing his letters to Mimi’s sister, Aunt Redda. And they got married when he returned from war.

That’s what the Greatest Generation did. They went to war and they came home and reveled in their families and hard work. They were extraordinary men and women who lived simply, happily, beautifully. They took pride in their work and found joy in watching a little girl flex her sad little bicep and feel like a badass for the first time in her life because she had a droopy Raphael inked on her arm.

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RIP Uncle Buddy. I’m glad you’re all together again.

The Fool

I’ve never been the kind of fool
who could abandon
a bad idea—

flush goldfish just because

I’m tired          of trying          to remember
to keep them alive.

But plenty of goldfish
have died.

Forgetting is another matter altogether
in any weather         whether you lose

or forget to keep
you’ve still got still gills

and a long sleep.