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Tyranogre last won the day on February 13

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  1. Okay, I'm officially recovering now. Thanks for all your concern.
  2. Okay, okay. I get it now. Jesus.
  3. Something happened to my body. It was very scary. It probably hurt a lot, but I couldn't tell because I was on anesthesia. Honestly, the worst part about this whole experience has been the lack of a ROUTINE.
  4. They were supposed to have performed the surgery half an hour ago, but we're still waiting.
  5. It's 1AM and my brain could only partially process your post and it's already a pain in the ass to try to type this out on my phone. BUT THIS THIS RIGHT HERE I get that.
  6. Currently in the ER with a burst appendix AMA
  7. Yep! 100%! ...well, techically 2% fat...
  8. 11:37 PM: begin rambling Throughout my entire life, I've had an antagonistic relationship with the concept of nutrition. If people need to eat food, they should eat foods that they like, and avoid the foods that they don't like. Winnie the Pooh loves honey. Tigger does not. Doug Funnie HATES liver and onions, but LOVES Honker Dogs and Fries. Okay! That makes sense! Different individuals have different tastes. So then why should people be forced to eat the foods they hate? During summer school between 2nd and 3rd grade, we had to learn about the laws of nutrition. As we went through the course, and it went into detail about how bad candy and ice cream are for you and how great vegetables are for you, I was in shock! I hated vegetables! I loved ice cream! This is the exact opposite of how things are supposed to work! But since I'm reading about it in school, that means that it's true! Well, this sucks. But then, sweet, little, adorable 8-year-old Tyranogre came up with an idea: If I were to change the textbook so that it said that ice cream was good for you and vegetables were bad for you, it would become true, since that's what it says while you're reading about it in school! After one busy recess with a crayon and some white-out, during the rest of summer school, whenever the teacher would read from the book where it says that your body needs vitamins and minerals to function properly, I would correct her by saying "Ah-ah-ah! If you look HERE, it quite CLEARLY says that your body needs whipped cream and chocolate syrup instead!" Needless to say, I had a very miserable summer that year. (On a side note, I'm only just now realizing how fucked up 8-year-old-me's line of thinking was, given certain things that may or may not be happening in the real world) Anyway, fast forward to my senior year of High School. @Stephen 776 and I went to a special school for students on the Spectrum, and one of the requirements from Seniors was that we had to complete the "six tasks". One of those tasks was to prepare 10 meals for your entire family. My immediate first thought was "Okay! I'll just buy ten boxes of different kinds of cereal, ten gallons of milk, and that's it! Easy!" "But cereal isn't a *meal*, Ty!" says the teacher. "Yes it is! It's what I had for breakfast this morning! Ugh, fine. Okay how about this: I'll buy a huge box of Hot Pockets, and everyone will have one!" "Hot Pockets aren't a meal, either." "Yes they are! They're what I had for lunch the other day!" Another one of those "tasks" was to create a plan for how you'd survive living on your own. What would you eat? Now, keep in mind that I know now that 17-year-old-me was an annoying little shithead in real life, and that my "plan" would never work (incidentally, it was also the year that Oldsider shut down). But one thing that I still have burned into one of my "core memories" (to use Inside-Out terminology) is hearing my dad angrily scream "IT SAID YOU WOULD EAT HOT POCKETS EVERY DAY!" Fast-forward a couple years later. I was living in a college internship program in Berkeley that also had a lot of it's own rules. Now, let me just say, as an aside, that there were a multitude of other factors going on in my life at the time, but after some certain independent research I did after leaving that program, I can now consider it the absolute lowest point in my entire life, and that I fully believe that if I hadn't left when I did, I would not be alive today. Let's just leave it at that, for now. I can tell more stories about it if anyone's curious. ANYWAY! Back to this college internship program in Berkeley! One of the fun events we had every week was Grill'N'Chill: a weekly potluck where everybody was required to contribute something. And by "everybody", I mean about a dozen early twenty-somethings on the Autism spectrum with vastly-different dietary needs and culinary abilities. And that was all we got to eat on those nights. Every week. Noticing a pattern here? If not, let me point it out: being forced to prepare food for other people. While I have nothing but respect for people who enjoy cooking as a hobby, I personally do not enjoy it. At all. I just don't see the point in putting that much effort into something that will be gone in about ten minutes. That's also the reason why all of Tiki's birthday cakes throughout the years have been store bought. (Oh, and don't worry. A "Tiki's Birthday 2023" thread *IS* coming. It just got postponed for... reasons.) Anyway, what's the point of this post again...? Oh, right: a rant about my relationship with the concept of nutrition, cooking, and, well, food, I guess. Food is something that we need to live. If you are hungry, go eat something. Ever since I've been living on my own, my diet has mainly consisted of frozen dinners and cereal, with the occasional can of Chef Boy R Dee. But by far the number one thing I consume the most of is milk! It's my favorite thing to drink! I literally go through four gallons of it a week! And you know what the best part is? I don't have to "cook"! Hell, I've lived in my current home for going-on three years now, and I have not touched my stove or oven once! Sure, I occasionally get sick because I ate something that disagreed with me, or get a kidney stone because I drank too much milk, but usually I just need to make a few temporary adjustments, and things go back to normal! Anyway, here I am, lying in bed, tittering away at my phone, and I'm feeling a bit thirsty, so I decide to get myself a glass of milk! Mmm, that really hit the spot! OW! Hold on, I just felt a slight jolt in my lower-right abdomen! What gives?! ...Oh. Huh... 1:49 AM: hit submit reply
  9. I have spent the past six days doing nothing but lying in bed, going to the bathroom, and lying in the bathtub with the shower running over me. I've gotten about twelve hours of continuous sleep in the past week, about 8 of which was last night, when I went to bed at 7 pm and woke up at 3 am. All of this while dealing with a stomach bug. I have to go back to the office on Wednesday (my dudes) because that's how long my work-from-home leave was approved for after I had surgery to get an ingrown nail removed from my toe. I'm not hungry enough to eat anything more than a banana or a slice of toast, too tired to play video games, watch anime, or fap, but every time I try to get a good night's sleep, I just end up lying there for a few minutes before waking up. I actually want to fucking die. /s
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