Blue shirts, blue buildings, blue ribbons. It’s Autism awareness month again ain’t it? Every year I have to watch the same damn thing unfold. Once again Autism Speaks is out on another mission to sound the alarm about a threat that doesn’t exist in order to pull in money that won’t go towards helping the very people the organization has sought out to exploit. You’d think creating this panic about Autism would be more played out than Drake songs on the radio but, unfortunately they’re always at it and have gotten increasingly more successful at duping unsuspecting people into throwing money at an organization that does not give a flying fuck what us Autistics actually have to say. For an organization called Autism Speaks, y’all sure as hell do a lot of the speaking for us. Due to the organization’s heavy presence during the month of April, people automatically assume that these guys are the gold standard of Autism organizations. Unfortunately, these guys have been responsible for a lot of the negative stigma surrounding Autism. Famous pieces like Susanne Wright’s “A Call to Action”, the documentary “Sounding the Alarm and, “I Wish My Kids Had Cancer: A Family Surviving the Autism Epidemic” seek to make Autism so scary that people will run to their senators and force them to provide more funding to Autism research,. Now don’t get me wrong Autism is still one of the least funded disorders but, the type of research Autism Speaks is seeking has all the wrong intentions behind it. They see Autism as something that should be eliminated instead of trying to advocate for better supports that would allow those on the spectrum to be the best possible versions of themselves. I shall leave you with a few things to think about. Continue reading
It’s funny how a simple yet very deep and complex lyric from a classic Three Dog Night song can spark inspiration at 2 in the morning. As a matter of fact, it’s funny how ANYTHING can spark inspiration at 2 in the morning. The whole accord is sheer fucking irony if you ask me but, I’m up at 2 am after going to bed at a decent time so let’s get this show on the road shall we? Every now and then I’ll have these random bouts of insomnia that often come out of nowhere but are usually the result of being very anxious and restless. So what’s eating at me this time you ask? It’s the same thing that’s been eating me for almost an entire year and I honestly, I can’t believe I’m about to write another blog about it too. I probably sound like a broken record with all of these blogs about dating and what not but recently it’s all just reached a peak, it also doesn’t help that next week will mark one year of my heart getting ripped in many pieces. Me panicking at 2 am seems very well within the realm of possible scenarios that can happen to me along with some chick on an online dating site trying to hustle me out of $200, someone trying to rope me into a pyramid scheme or, some pseudo Christian cult that’s really a pyramid scheme with a dash of religion trying to recruit me but, those are all stories for another day. Continue reading
Alright, I’m going to stray from the norm this time around and touch on what many consider to be taboo. Remember that birds and bees story your parents told you when you were young and naive? Remember those naughty tapes you used to sneak from your uncle’s house and watch in secret when your parents were asleep? Remember when you had that one relative with a cable descrambler and flipping back and fourth between channels B21-24 and remembering the hot keys for Disney Channel and Cartoon Network was your life? Well sit down children, because we’re about to learn about the most important subject ever from someone that society thinks has no business elaborating on it. We’re gonna talk about sex. Now I know what you’re thinking, how can an Autistic person know anything about sex let alone elaborate on it? If this is your rational then congratulations, you’re part of the problem and I hope you feel good about yourself. Now I should note that I’m still a virgin (“VIRGIN?! YOU MEAN WE’RE TAKING SEX ADVICE FROM SOMEONE WHOSE NEVER SEEN A VAGINA OUTSIDE OF PORN?!” Yes guys, you are about to read sex advice from someone whose never gotten laid, just hear me out). Continue reading
So I was watching NBC’s new comedy “Superstore” which I highly recommend and there was an episode that spoke to me in a way that TV episodes haven’t in quite sometime. The episode follows the crew of the store Cloud 9 as magazine has come to do a photoshoot for their next issue. One of he characters Garrett, who uses a wheelchair dreads the shoot as he’s had experiences with magazines taking pictures of him because a guy in a wheelchair working makes for a good story. Throughout the episode are scenes where one of the cameramen follows Garrett throughout the store hoping to snap a picture. Eventually, Garrett has to walk around the store with his middle fingers up in order to make getting a good picture impossible. While a person with a disability being employed makes for a good story to a person who’s never lived that experience, for us it’s honestly just another day, same shit different toilet. Continue reading
There are honestly way too many words to describe the last few months. To sum it all up, the last few months have been a bigger mess than your living room after Christmas presents have been unwrapped. The last six months have been such a mess that your toddler’s high chair would be jealous. Your child’s bedroom ain’t got nothing on how much of a mess the last couple of months have been. Move over NFC East (football division), what if I told you there was a dating life that was a bigger mess than you guys? And the saga continues like horror movies that can’t decide if they’ve released their last film or if they plan on dropping another shitty sequel. My romance life has decided on shitty sequels because it can’t seem to decide on an epic finisher like a Mortal Kombat player deciding if they want Liu Kang to finish you with a Bicycle Kick or if they want him to transform into a dragon and bite the top half of your body off. Continue reading
WARNING: STRONG LANGUAGE!!!! READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED!!!!!!
Welcome to Angry Autistic Rants, a sub series of posts where I choose something that bothers/irritates me and blogs about it with nothing but raw emotion. For this post we shall dive into a holiday that I find utterly pointless and should die in a fire.
As you reach the end of January, you instantly start to notice that there’s something ominous in the air. You can’t quite put your finger on it but you know that there’s something off. There’s an influx of jewelry commercials, there are way too many love songs on the radio but it all comes full circle when you walk into a store and are reminded what day is around the corner. Suddenly your mind is filled with flashbacks as pain as the feelings of loneliness come rushing back. Your heart starts to hurt as you are now reminded that Valentines Day is approaching. There aren’t enough words in the world or pages in a book or even space on the wordpress database to describe how much I despise Valentines Day. I could write a Harry Potter sized novel about how much I hate the day and it still wouldn’t scratch the surface. Every year when I walk into a CVS, Walmart, or any other store with a “Valentines Day” section it tends to trigger a ton of memories, memories of my attempts at love gone terribly wrong. If I could start fires and contain them to one section and keep people safe in the process I would torch the Valentines section of every single store I walked into. Scary shit huh? I promise I’m not some pyromaniac and that thought of torching that section is more of a twisted fantasy created from my sometimes fucked imagination than it is an urge or impulse. Those reading are now wondering what could have possibly happened on the only day in the calender year that we treat our significant others like kings and queens to warrant such rage and sadistic thoughts. A lot went wrong in my life for me to get to this point. Now in earlier blog posts I have covered some of my romance woes but I never exactly started at the beginning but before I do, I have to share a few of my older My Space blog posts in order to get that pain across. Back in high school I blogged of my life but in those days I blogged with nothing but raw unfiltered emotion. The next three blogs are from an angry, lonely, depressed, and even sexually frustrated 17-20 year old me on the matter of this most unfortunate holiday.