I am the Community Blog Manager for Destructoid. I am also the resident Resplendent Black Grandmother. My mind is broken glass and my heart is swollen and corpulent, like a cheeto left in a puddle of Diet Coke.
Well that certainly sounded dramatic.
I, with the full support of the Shadow Council, have taken it up myself to hand out decoder rings to all new members here on the C-blogs. I also like handing out little bonus gifts as well depending on what's in the trunk of my car on any given day. I do this because I have things growing inside me. Dark, twisted things that need love. So let me love you.
This is a past banner of mine that was made by fellow Dtoider and sexting partner Char Aznable. I have tattooed this on my heart. My apologies for it being cut off but I don't know how to make it smaller and screaming at the screen hasn't worked yet.
This is a picture Science Jesus and kind-voiced personal savior Beyamor drew while thinking about me. It's my old avatar but it still rings true in the hearts of men and beasts alike. I bet he wasn't wearing pants when he made it. A man can dream, right?
I was recently gifted with a Dtoid card. Its hard to put into words how much this means to me that I am finally a playing card.
I am the God King of my Heart.
Here are some pictures of things I like. I hope you like them too.
Sundays are not my best day. They don't have the raw power of a Saturday nor are they that fingernails on a chalkboard annoyance that is a Monday. No, they are something different. Something.....lame. So I find my Sundays are spent moping around the apartment or moping to the grocery store. Mope. Do laundry. Mope. Play xbox. It's all very maudlin. However this most recent Sunday was very special. You see my dear friends, I gots mail. Not only mail, but mail from fucking Beyamor. Let me tell you all about it.
It was a typical mopey Sunday. I had been drinking boxed wine since 9 AM and had spent the afternoon threatening Katchoo. Then I noticed that I had received a package.
At first, I was suspicious of this package. Even though Beyamor had PM'd me for my address as I had asked him to draw me something because I love his mind thoughts I had forgotten because my tiny lizard mind is too busy focusing on survival to have memories.
Then I saw it. His avatar. The scarlet letter. The hand print on Peter Lorre's back from M. My mind knew safety. I scanned further and notice that it was indeed a package from Beyamor to me. All things settled down in my head.
The joy flooded into my heart like dry humping a statue of your grandmother made of solidified crystal Pepsi. I tore into the package.
There was a letter. Hand-written. Neat. Carefully penned with each word chosen for maximum potency. It read like a cross between Oscar Wilde, Nicholas Sparks and Robert Heinlein. Things were professed, sentences frantically read and re-read. Words were absorbed like ruby-colored shards of love. The paper smelled faintly of tears. I'd share the letter but this is a moment I'd rather keep to myself. A man needs some secrets, doesn't he?
The next thing I noticed was the comic. Yes, Beyamor made me a comic book about me. It's about me, Mr. Destructoid, the Shadow Council, hipsters and a certain electric toothbrush.
I was stunned. The thought and time and care that went into this was significant to say the least. It made my heart swell. My tiny lizard brain could not process all of it so it shut down briefly.
The weight of pure joy was too much and my legs buckled. I fell to my knees and began laughing. I thrust the comic into the air as if to show the dark, jagged things that live in my mind that there is love out there in the waking world.
This was a Sunday I laughed and smiled. This was a Sunday where I won. Thank you Beyamor. You are magnificent.
I think perhaps if anyone cares to see it I will do another picture post of the comic later this week since the world deserves to witness the joy of Beyamor.
Also, I know Beyamor's real name and it is perfect.