Rob

Their full name is Jimothy Eateth Worlds, Esq., III

Ewan Cameron used to come down to my neck of the woods on weekends to get away from Montreal. My local paper printed a glowing obituary for him when he died.

If the U.S. was a song right now it would be called “Bill Clinton’s Dick (Reprise)”

Winter as horror The Daily Musings #4

I wrote yesterday about the things I love about winter. And now, for the horror of it all. This is a true story.
substack.com/@foolology/n...

Todays musing: death and how weird it makes me to think about sometimes. Enjoy
open.substack.com/pub/foololog...

I'm debuting a new series in which I muse daily about something. Today, it's about how I suck at crying. This promo image is killing me. loooool. Enjoy.
open.substack.com/pub/foololog...

Today is my dad's birthday. He should be 74. He should be here.

YOU LOOK GREAT. YOUR TEETH ARE SHARP. YOUR EYES ARE LUMINOUS. THE TOWNFOLK WHISPER YOUR NAME IN HUSHED TONES .

📝

It’s usually spiders for me. I’ll even feel something on my skin that isn’t there.

- Seeing friends you haven’t seen in a long time
- Communing with the forest
- Doing something good in the world
- Orgasms

Other salves:

- The Overview Effect
- Art
- Mass gatherings/protests
- Random singular moments that feel outside the bounds of reality for a moment, seem forgettable, but you return to years later, finding deep significance in them
- Casting spells

You ever just think that there is a problem with reality, and that seeing ghosts and Bigfoot and UFOs are the antidote? Not the only antidote, but one such salve for living in too much reality.

Strange Experiences, Part 2: Boogaloo’s Gonna Boogaloo.

Continuing from where I left off, I recount some of the strangest experiences of my life, some of which I’ve never shared before.

open.substack.com/pub/foololog...

I brought you this fart. I made it myself 💨

One of my reads for the month.

I want to see another TV network or streamer do something like Nigthmares and Dreamscapes, but for Shirley Jackson's stories.

Here is part one of a two part series in which I explore the strange experiences I've had that make me feel as if I've been abducted by aliens at some point in my life.
open.substack.com/pub/foololog...

You’re only ever one giant fart away from lighting a house on fire.

My life is currently revolving around the fact that I believe I’ve been abducted by aliens, I’m writing about it, and I do not feel less crazy about it.

My father had the briefest of conversations with me. It lasted less than five minutes cuz it was just awkward af. He didn’t want to talk about it. The only reason he did was because my mom caught me masturbating and told me that I shouldn’t do that. It fucked me up for a while.

or because I don’t want to be perceived that way.

It all feels like a weird number on a calculator designed to determine just how fucked up I am. Either way, it’s a lot of weird stuff and I don’t really know what to do with it, so I think I’ll just start writing about it.

the gnome incident, the times when i would wake up in our recliner with no memory of climbing into it, the short shadows I’ve seen darting in hallways, a couple of odd work place encounters I’ve had… the list goes on.

Just a lot of weird stuff, and then I dismiss it, whether for fear for normalcy…

When I read books and accounts of alien abduction, I tend to recall incidents from my childhood that were weird, but felt like I could easily dismiss them. The fear I felt of my bedroom at night, the times where I felt watched when I watched cartoons early on Saturday mornings…

Research for a writing project (fiction).

Today marks the 7th year of my mother’s passing. I hate thinking about cuz it’s a complicated mess of trauma and guilt. But here we are and on we go.

In 2006 my dog died, we think she got cancer, and I think her cancer fucked with out WiFi router. Sounds weird, but no other explanation will do. Meet Abby, my childhood dog. She was a good dog and I miss her a lot.

open.substack.com/pub/foololog...

open.substack.com/pub/foololog...

The funny thing about reading books about reincarnation, which I currently am, is that ever since my cousin took his own life it’s all I can think about, ending things. There’s an irony there that makes me laugh. Anyway, it’s led to a creative project that I think is a good idea.

Another thought that makes me existential with anxiety: there are species of dinosaurs we will never know about because of how rare an event fossilization is…