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[V-Adore]

To revive the inappropriate trash-talkin' thread: this actually happened to me last weekend, when a few friends of mine and I went to dinner due to my hell of depression. Things inevitably turned to "your mom" jokes, at which point this conversational gambit hit the table:

A FRIEND OF MINE: Yeah, your mom's mom's a whore!
ME: ... my mom's mom has a brain tumor.
FRIEND: ... ... ... ... ... oh my god I'm a terrible person.

Hilarity! Except not.

[side_show]

See my bleak and cynical side is basically waiting for either you or jough to reveal that indeed both your moms are fine, and that they have tea and danties together every afternoon.  I am actually afraid to express sympathy, because it has gotten to the point where I assume everyone here is not opposed to using your mothers as a point of creating humour. 

I tend to think of you, V'Adore, as basically not being a cunt, so in that case, I'm really sorry to hear about your mom.  That is bunko.  Boo to tumours, boo!  Having been through hella' depression, all I can tell you is that it is good to force yourself to go out socially.

I tend to think of you, jough, as the sort of guy who would lie about the premature death of you mom as an elaborate set up to a joke that's punchline is not yet delivered, and have bassically been waiting for you to dick slap us all in the face.  If I am wrong, I am sorry, if not - BRING. IT. ON!

[jough]

Yeah, sorry, no joke here. 

As far as depression goes, I tend to hole-up and work (which incidentally is what I also do when I'm not depressed). 

Someone asked me after I launched Plagiarist.com how I was able to manually scan, OCR, and edit 4,000 poems (it's like 10,000 now) in about six weeks (in which time I also taught myself PHP and built the rest of the site) and I told them that it helps to have a really bad breakup with the love of your life, and then do nothing else but build a huge web site for six weeks.

Incidentally, I launched Plagiarist.com on 10 September 2001, and then took it down the next day to put up a black page with a link to the Red Cross for a week before finally launching a week late.  Thanks, terrorists.

Anyway, the day it finally went live I also took an IT contract that required me to show up on site 9-5 as though I were a regular employee (and I pretty much was, except in how I got paid and the fact that I got no benefits).  The work wasn't very interesting but I did enjoy the social aspects of it.

I think I had a point when I started typing up there, but now I forget what it was. 

[lprkn]

Well, that's not a bad response to heartbreak, I think. At least its better than hitting the bottle and going on a drunken fugue for a few days.

[side_show]

I think I had a point when I started typing up there, but now I forget what it was. 

Dick slaps for all?

[jough]

Oh? What are you telling me here, side_show?  Because to me it sounded a lot like "I have too many tiny cans of Dr Pepper.  Please take some away, Daddy."

Anything for you, sugar.

[side_show]

Hey I said "for all!"

That's okay.  I basically deserved it. 

[V-Adore]

I tend to think of you, V'Adore, as basically not being a cunt, so in that case, I'm really sorry to hear about your mom.  That is bunko.  Boo to tumours, boo!  Having been through hella' depression, all I can tell you is that it is good to force yourself to go out socially.

My grandmother, actually -- my mom is fine, albeit stressed from family matters. The brain tumor was removed, but it was cancerous, and there's some evidence that it may have metastasized from elsewhere, so I think they're putting her on "make sure there's nothing left" chemo, on top of her rehab for the cognitive symptoms associated with the tumor.

I don't mean to be The One Who Goes On a Message Board To Tell An Uncaring Crowd About Her Problems, but yeah, life sort of sucks right now. With luck it's on its way up.

[Ben-San]

I'm sorry to go off the topic of moms but yeah, alive stuffed animals can suffocate or at least asphyxiate.

[V-Adore]

I'm sorry to go off the topic of moms but yeah, alive stuffed animals can suffocate or at least asphyxiate.

Nicely CortJstr'd, my man. Also, I had forgotten the alt-text, which made me laugh. NO ONE SURVIVED... BREAST ATTACK ON FUCK MOUNTAIN!

[lprkn]

Activate the captioning!

[robot_god]

That strip was the first new Achewood strip I ever read after two days of reading through the archives.  It seemed very uncharacteristic of the comic at the time.

[theinevitable]

hm. the saddest thing: i do not remember the first Achewood I read. But I do remember the first "Real Life" I read.
actually, I probably didn't even read the newest one, and went straight to the archives.

just for the record, my "senior prophecy" ends with me living with an otter named Phillipe, living on a steady diet of empanadas and sopaipillas.

[side_show]

My grandmother, actually -- my mom is fine, albeit stressed from family matters. The brain tumor was removed, but it was cancerous, and there's some evidence that it may have metastasized from elsewhere, so I think they're putting her on "make sure there's nothing left" chemo, on top of her rehab for the cognitive symptoms associated with the tumor.

I don't mean to be The One Who Goes On a Message Board To Tell An Uncaring Crowd About Her Problems, but yeah, life sort of sucks right now. With luck it's on its way up.

Yeah, chemo seriously, seriously sucks.  It seems so counter to everything intuitive to attack someone's body so hard to make them better.  May she be better, and may your days be sunny.

[V-Adore]

Yeah, chemo seriously, seriously sucks.  It seems so counter to everything intuitive to attack someone's body so hard to make them better.  May she be better, and may your days be sunny.

Thanks.

This is why cancer is such a bitch -- it's your body's own cells gone mad, so the only things that can kill it also kill healthy cells in droves. Ergo: painful, scary, somewhat inevitable, and difficult. Brain cancer conveniently combines the normal terror of cancer and the refreshing, tangy zip of Alzheimer's-style cognitive impairment, thus making it easily the most frightening of all possible ways to die.