Sad. Funny. Truthful. Podcast Episode 52 – Jason – Bunch of Stuff, Depression, JRE

Another long podcast with Jason. This, along with the previous 2 episodes were all recorded on the same day. We talked for more than 7 hours!



If the above link doesn’t work, you should always check here ( for the updated links to download the podcast. I will also provide the link to download all the episodes there and it might even have newer and better links.


Web hosting starting at $5 a month. You might get more discount if you mention this podcast. I don’t know. I don’t really care anymore lol.

Sad. Funny. Truthful. Podcast Episode 48 – 911 And Fleshlight

I talked with Jason in this episode about a bunch of stuff from 911 to fleshlights. Check it out.



If the above link doesn’t work, you should always check here ( for the updated links to download the podcast. I will also provide the link to download all the episodes there and it might even have newer and better links.


Web hosting starting at $5 a month. You might get more discount if you mention this podcast. I don’t know. I don’t really care anymore lol.

SFT Podcast Episode 42 – Two Chinamens Depression

We talked a lot about my depression and lack of motivation. It doesn’t really get anywhere and is pretty depressing, but there are some good parts in there I think.



If the above link doesn’t work, you should always check here ( for the updated links to download the podcast. I will also provide the link to download all the episodes there and it might even have newer and better links.


Web hosting starting at $5 a month. You might get more discount if you mention this podcast. I don’t know. I don’t really care anymore lol.

Lower Than The Lowest Lows

The title’s pretty stupid. It doesn’t really make sense. I seem to have lost my ability and interest to write anything decent. I’m constantly reaching new lows in life. I’m definitely lower than I’ve ever been before and sadly, it’s probably still going to keep getting lower. The first low point I’ve ever reached was when I tried out online dating. Online dating doesn’t have nearly as much stigma as it used to, but the moment I decided to try it was still a depressing one. I was admitting that I couldn’t find a girl in real life. The moment a person decides to try online dating doesn’t need to be a depressing one, but it is often depressing and it was depressing for me. Failing at online dating makes it even worse.

The next low point was when I decided to try to find a girlfriend off craigslist. Finding a hooker would be fine, that’s just business. But girlfriend? That’s getting a little desperate. Failing at that makes things worse as well. Over the past couple years, I repeatedly tried it over and over again even though I rarely even get a response, let alone someone who’s interested. There are a lot of spam bots out there pretending that they’re girls worried about their safety and telling you to go to a certain site to pay $1 for a background check so that they know you’re safe. Luckily, I haven’t fallen for those. That definitely would’ve been a new low. But I did spend more time replying to those pre-written bot emails than I did with real girls – still a new low.

Then I went through several years of getting progressively more depressed, losing interest in movies, games, food, life. Naturally, it doesn’t take long to lose motivation to work when nothing’s enjoyable anymore. I can’t pinpoint specific events to these, but new lows were definitely being made. Finally, my latest new low is a sequel to the hooker story I wrote about in the last post. Seeing a hooker isn’t lowly. Developing feelings for a hooker is pretty bad. Developing feelings for a fat ugly hooker? Well that’s just retarded. That’s where I’m at…

After writing the last post, I decided to email the hooker and I went to see her that night. I just wanted some boob play and cuddling and someone to talk to. Okay, that sounds really lame. It was. It is. Let me redeem myself a little. I’m not desperate to talk to just anyone. I want someone to talk to regularly and frequently. Why I thought a hooker could fill that void was just plain stupid. There’s no redeeming that part. When I finally saw her, she was fat. I thought she was gonna be maybe a little overweight but nope, she was fat. I’m not attracted to fat. I’m not being super mean here and trying to make girls worry about their bodies. This girl clearly didn’t worry about it at all. Skinny isn’t attractive either. Lazy isn’t attractive as well. If a girl looks like she’s active, then she’ll look great. When I’m not ridden by depression, I’m a very active person with endless amounts of energy. I could be sporting and exercising all day and I’ll still have energy to do more that night and the next day and the next day. Naturally, I would be attracted to active people too. I’m not picky at all. Easily over 70% of girls are attractive to me. As long as you don’t like look you’ll die from walking up a flight of stairs, you look great. If you look like a bean bag chair, you probably don’t look great.

Anyway, I chatted with the hooker and I tried to befriend her. I learned all about her current situation and we decided we’d meet again as friends. I couldn’t sleep that night. I’m not really sure why, but then I eventually thought of a scenario where I could invite her to live in my house so she can sort out her life. Yes, it sounds really stupid when written. It’s not as stupid if you know the exact details I have planned, but it’s still pretty stupid. If she were a hot attractive girl, my stupidity would be understandable at least. But now it’s just pure stupidity with no excuse.

Before I make the final stupid decision, I would need to talk to her thoroughly and ask her a lot of questions to find any reason not to do it. It didn’t take me long at all to catch her not living up to my fantasy but it was still irrefutably stupid that I considered it so seriously. At least I dodged that bullet I guess. I have no idea what stupid shit I’ll do next. If it doesn’t cost me my life, I’ll probably be blogging about it. I might record a podcast tomorrow with more details on the hooker story.

Life, Responsibilities, Blah Blah Blah…

I don’t really know what to title this entry. I have an idea of what I want to write about but I don’t know if I’ve thought it out yet. Writing blogs is a way of thinking through things so I’m going to be posting this whether it’s shittily thought out or not.

I felt pretty shitty yesterday. It’s not often that I can identify the cause of my bad days but yesterday’s was obvious. It wasn’t a big deal. I shouldn’t have felt as shitty as I did, but it’s not necessarily an over-reaction. I already constantly have a huge pile of shitty feelings so when someone tosses a new piece of shit on top of that, I’m not feeling shitty because of the tiny new piece, I feel shitty for the sum total huge pile of shit feelings. …I’ll stop using shit as a metaphor for feeling shitty now cause the imagery would only get worse from here.

So I’ve been living at my aunt’s lately and yesterday, my aunt had a talk with me about my living situation. I hate how people are basically incapable to talk about things honestly. I don’t talk much, but when I ask a question, I want an honest answer. If you just keep feeding me with nice sounding sugar coated polite bullshit, there no point for me to talk to you. Right now, I’m living at my aunt’s house under the guise of helping out around the house cause of my cancerous sickly uncle. That’s the excuse that goes to my parents but in actuality, my aunt believes my parents are very toxic to happiness so she’s trying to save me from them. I keep asking if she wants me around to help out with the little things cause I know I’m not helping her THAT much. She keeps saying I should stay but I don’t know if that’s true or if she’s just trying to “save” me. I don’t need “saving” unless it’s a concerted effort where my opinion actually matters.

My aunt tried to talk to me and get me to think about my future, specifically, how I plan to make a living for myself in the future because I haven’t been doing that yet. I tell her the truth without making a big deal out of it and I don’t think she understands how I feel at all. I’m utterly depressed. I’ve been this way for a while and will continue to be this way in the foreseeable future. Just because I talk about depression with a smile on my face and joking around with it instead of sobbing like a little bitch, it doesn’t mean I’m not actually depressed or that I’m using it as an ultimate excuse to not do shit. Do you want to see me cry? I don’t do it cause nobody wants to see a grown man cry. I’m not a cryer but I’m pretty sure I could cry at will if I just stop holding it back for a minute. That’s an award-winning acting ability and I’m definitely no actor.

Although I’m not working very much these days, I could be doing a lot less. In many ways, I’m quite a superb human being. I am by far the smartest, strongest, and healthiest person I know. That’s mostly because I don’t know anyone. Ranking 1 out of 1 isn’t exactly a feat. I’m not trying to brag here because I’m clearly a failure at life at this moment, being as depressed as I am. Also, I wear glasses so my body is clearly flawed. My point is, I know I’m clearly capable of taking care of myself. I don’t do it because I have no reason to. That’s how grim life has gotten for me. I’m only alive right now because I’m being financially supported. I have no emotional attachment to these people who are supporting me. There’s a part of me that’s hopeful and believes there’s a speck of possibility that I might enjoy life someday. So if living requires very little effort, I’ll live on. I’m not suicidal right now but I’m not afraid to die because there’s nothing I’ll miss.

When I told some of that to my aunt, she likened my situation to her husband’s. There are many days where my uncle suffers so much, he’d much rather die to end the suffering. His siblings insists he lives on. Sure, I understand that my uncle must’ve genuinely wanted to die at some point, many times, but I’m not him. Our minds work completely differently. I don’t give a shit about what people think. I don’t care if other people want me to live. If they’re not actively making my life better, then they’re just in my way. If anything, their nagging for me to live would push me towards death. There’s only two reasons that my uncle hasn’t killed himself yet. Either he’s too much of a pussy to do it, or he wants to live. It’s okay to want to live. (Who’d have thought that sentence would ever need to be written, lol.)

I’m not like my uncle. I’ve got a much stronger will. If I really want to do something, I’ll do it. If I really wanted to kill myself, I’ll do it. It won’t be easy, but I can handle the task. Do I need to prove it? I’m not a cutter and I get no enjoyment out of it. I’ve got a healthy fear of not wanting to wound myself. But I give so little shits right now, I can stab myself in the arm as proof that I genuinely don’t care about my life right now. I would definitely hesitate, but I can do it. It’s like sucking a dick. I know I don’t want to do it, but if I had to, I would need a moment to take a breath and mentally prepare myself before I do it. It’s not physically hard to suck dicks, it’s all mental. Don’t worry, I’m not about to retardedly stab myself in the arm or suck dicks because I’m smart enough to know that it doesn’t matter even if I prove my depression to people.

Speaking of sucking dicks, I wanted to use that as an example for something else. One of the things my aunt talked to me about was to eventually get me to pay the internet bill and develop a sense of responsibility in me. I understand the perceived logic behind that, but that won’t work for me at this point. I’ve got enough money saved up along with the batch of money that’s about to come in with Tek Tactical, a game I’ll be releasing today, that I won’t need to work for a while to pay those bills. There still won’t be any urgency for me to work. By the time it does feel urgent, it’ll close off opportunities for me to attempt entrepreneurial projects like making games. So I would wound up stuck with a shitty job or sucking dicks to pay the bills. Would my aunt really want me to suck dicks to pay her $50 a month? No? Oh, so she’ll let a month slide? What about the next month? Does she want me to suck dicks then? If she doesn’t ever want me to have to suck dicks, then the whole responsibility shit doesn’t work. Ideally, she would want me to get a job to pay the bills and then discover that if I HAD to work, I might as well get a better job and then get a good job that way. But that’s not how my brain works at this point in life. I’d rather suck dicks than get stuck in a shitty job and I’d probably rather die than suck dicks.

Okay… let me see if it’s possible to bring this back to a positive note. Let me assure you that I’m probably not in any danger of suicide or sucking dicks anytime soon. Once Tek Tactical is released, my life will change quite drastically. Not necessarily a positive change, but it’ll change. The projected earnings seem pretty good and I’ll be kept busy responding to user comments. I recognize that there’s a very real possibility that it doesn’t turn out so well. It’s definitely possible that I earn far less than I expect and maybe no one will give enough of a shit about the game to comment on it. If that happens, I will need to seriously consider abandoning game making and reapply my programming skills to more serious jobs. Either way, my life’s about to change pretty soon.

Hmm… That wasn’t positive at all, is it? Let me try again… When I told my aunt that paying bills won’t give me urgency because Tek Tactical will probably cover that for a year, she said that she could just increase the bills for me. If that’s the case, I’ve got no reason to continue living with her. It’s not like I enjoy living here. I’m not complaining. It’s just I don’t enjoy anything. She thinks that less yelling in her house compared to my parents’ along with her daughters’ conversations might do me good. I’ve seen enough of it to know that it won’t do me any good. Again, I’m not complaining, but my welfare is definitely not going to go according to her plan. If that’s the case, I might as well go back to my parents’. My aunt and uncle are retired so they’re home all the time. At least at my parents’ house, they go to work so I get the house to myself all day where I can freely record podcasts and masturbate.

Eventually, if I move out on my own, I’ll probably move to another country. Fuck free health care. I never get sick anyway. Okay… I totally suck at ending this positively. Umm… let me just clarify that I’m not just glooming around my aunt’s house and that I’m currently being a very pleasant houseguest. I’m just looking into the future through my dark depressing lens.

Still Lacking Desires

As I was posting the last entry, I realized that it didn’t have anything to do with the title, what I originally intended to write about. I might say that my current goal in life is developing flash games, because that’s what I’ve been kinda doing; I’m capable of doing it; And I need a means to make money. I apparently get really sick of being employed so it seems making flash games (or games for any other platform) seems like the right move to make for me. That all sounds okay but I don’t feel like doing shit. I’m simply lacking the motivation to do anything. What’s the point? So I can extend this shitty life? What’s there to enjoy in life? I seem to no longer enjoy movies, tv, games, and even sex (with hookers). I don’t like interacting with annoying people and everyone seems annoying to me. I could go on forever with things that I don’t like because I’m being a cunty little bitch. The problem is, I can’t find anything I do like, which makes it hard to find a reason to do anything.

I feel like I need to get my ass kicked by the world, face death, and let my survival instincts kick in. Maybe then, I’ll stop being such a pussy and complaining about how difficult it is to live my 100% stress-free life. That’s not true. It’s not 100% stress-free. But compared to most people, it might as well be.

It’s hard for people to talk to me about it because talking doesn’t get me anywhere. I try not to talk about it as freely as I used to because it’s not fun for others to hear about my lack of appreciation of life, especially when there are people struggling to live and I’m just wasting away my healthy body. This is particularly true with my cancerous uncle whom’s house I’m currently living in. He gave me a little speech today about how I should finish post-secondary education, get a degree in something, and face reality. His main point is that life isn’t fair and I should take every advantage I can get. I didn’t fight him at all, because I didn’t want to stress him to his death, but I could not agree with a single thing he said.

First, before the life lecture, he advised I wear more clothes because my aunt got sick and there are germs around the house. I’m cruising around in shorts and t-shirt during freezing winter by the way. I understand his concern, I really do, but I don’t get sick. I may catch a flu or whatever’s around, but I don’t get sick. I feel just as fine as my normal self with the exception of having a bit of a stuffy or runny nose. In either case, I just blow the shit out of it and I’ll be fine for at least 30 minutes. Maybe it’s a testament to my cardiovascular muscles that blowing my nose all day doesn’t wear me out. Even if I get a little sick, it’s not like I have any responsibilities anyway so I can just sleep it off. Maybe people are such pussies to me that I can’t stand them. I’ve gotten ill to the point where my body can hardly function anymore, but I can still handle it. I don’t want to disrespect a dying man, but my body’s fine. It’s probably as good as it is because I’ve forced it to endure much worse and it has become resilient as a result.

After that, he gave me a little lecture about the importance of a degree. As an older person who doesn’t delve in technology, my uncle doesn’t know shit about what I do. I fully understand that there’s a possibility, a pretty big possibility, that things don’t work out with my independent game development. I understand that, but it doesn’t matter because I don’t want to do anything else. Heck, I don’t even want to do what I’m doing now but it’s already a lot of effort on my part to at least attempt to do something rather just rot away. Yes, I’m wasting time, yes I know, but I’m wasting time on a life that was supposed to be dead anyway. There were a few nights I could’ve died and I’ve grown to accept it. Surviving those brief self-inflicted dangers didn’t give me a new perspective on life. If anything, it made (my) life seem more meaningless. Time is only precious when there’s stuff to do. With nothing to do, time is just a made-up concept that doesn’t affect real life, like string theory.

Am I just making excuses so I can relax at home and not go to work? I don’t think so. All I know is, people don’t trust my opinion at all. They have their mind set on what life is supposed to be and they can’t accept my nihilistic view. I’m not blaming anyone for my miseries, but every single person who talks to me has the power to add meaning to my life and make me want to live more, but they don’t. They’ve got their own lives and they’re too busy to deal with me. I’m not saying that people need to value me more, but if it’s gonna be the way it is, at least let me feel shitty instead of criticizing me about it. At the end of the day, their criticism doesn’t really matter because they only criticize me during our brief interaction, and then they go back to their lives as if I don’t exist, which is exactly the problem to begin with.

Moving On With Life; Moving To Romania

I’ve been depressed for a while and it would do me good to get a fresh new start. Next month, I might go to Romania and live there for a while. Why Romania? Because some person on the internet told me to. Seriously, that’s all it took. I know nothing about the country. The only thing I know is that I had a crappy high school teacher who was from there so my default impression of the place isn’t a good one.


Alright, so who’s this person on the internet telling me to go to Romania? It’s just a girl I started working with for a new flash game. I know nothing about her and she knows nothing about me. I brought up my depression to her because of the lack of progress I’ve been making and she suggested I go to Romania. I don’t even think she wants to have anything to do with me sexually but girls can basically get me to do anything. I’ll be the first person to dive into the water for a siren.


I’ve never lived on my own and I know nothing about it. I wonder how badly I’ll screw up. Maybe I’ll get kidnapped and I’ll get to play Stockholm. I don’t know what the point of this post is. I guess if there’s someone out there who has a better suggestion or can help me transition to a new home, that’d be great cause I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing.