Class Is In Session
Sit your ass down, and be prepared to be entertained.
Merry Muggy Monday my magnificent mommies. I hope you all had a beautiful weekend.
You all deserve it.
Now, now my lovelies. Everyone take your seats. Class is in session. Mr. Mortemore is talking.
The agenda for today is:
Weekend Recap
Memes
Poem
Positivity
I had another idea, it’ll come back to me. Fuck.
Everyone here? Okay. Let’s begin. The Short One™️, July 29th, 2024.
Weekend Recap:
For me, it was a weird weekend — in a net positive kind of way. Last week I felt a lot of my mental capacity was spent focusing on job interviews and it took away from the habits I’ve been building. So this weekend I decided to rest up a bit.
The title for the last three days? Flirting With Life in a Forgetful kind-of-way.
Why you ask? Literally such a good question bestie. I don’t know. But it just felt right. So let’s ramble on and see if we can’t figure out why.
I FORGOT my friend’s birthday party was a costume party until an hour before. I was too tired to figure out a costume last minute. So I did the most authentically me thing ever. Showed up uncaring-ly underdressed.
Fuck it up. I looked good in my corduroy vest. I will not apologize.
Well, there’s the forgetfulness.
LIFE? I’m embracing it everyday. Might as well. Otherwise that’d mean I’m dead, right? Or metaphorically dead, I suppose. Unsure. I’m really surprised y’all read all of this. It’s just me telling stories about my life. Is that interesting to you? I hope so. I’m an interesting person, in my opinion. Plus I’m funny. So there’s that.
Also I’m hot. Y’all saw my thirst traps. I know some, at least one, of you really liked em too. Is that why y’all stick around? To hopefully see more of those? Smh. Thirstyyyyyyy hoes. It’s okay I am too. Someone I wanted to see them saw them this weekend and I’m like. Yeup that was the intention. Noice.
I’m nothing if not intentional with my thirst. At least there’s that.
Okay. Flirty? I’m always flirty. See above. An intentional and sometimes unintentional flirt. But flirty nonetheless.
Fine fine fine fine. I’ll stop teasing you and actually do a recap now. Can’t edge you into oblivion — gotta give my audience what they want.
I did my second, all time, paid photography gig on Friday. It was for an experiential marketing coconut company. Yes babes, you heard that right. A Coconut Company. The pop up though, that was fire. It was for… Estee Lauder//Bobbi Brown//Bumble and Bumble. See pics on my instagram for results.
Friday, Whinny Poo (shout out Whinny, love u bestie) and I saw Deadpool Wolverine. A Marvel, Meme-Worthy cash grab for sure — but it was objectively one of the better Marvel Movies in the past 6 years. However, nothing can top the Spiderman Into the Spiderverse moives. Those animations? God I’m salivating just thinking about it. Maybe that’s what I’ll watch tonight? Hell ya.
Saturday morning I could be summarized as being Snorlax. I slept in and had a very slow morning. I spent most of the day editing photos and doing Creative Shit. Capitalized. Because capitalizations equate to importance. And Creative Shit is important. Later in the evening, I was randomly invited to go grab some drinks with friends from THE Ohio State University. The drinks? Fine. The venues? Sick. A beer garden (the GM was dope and gave us free shots for being kind. It pays to be kind babes). Then we went to some rooftop bar that has a indoor hot tub… kinda gross. Kinda chaotic. Kinda fun. I did not get in, there’s definitely nastiness in there. THEN I ended the night at my friends birthday party flirting my way home.
Sunday was for Peruvian Independence Day. I am not Peruvian. Nor were the friends I celebrated Peruvian Independence Day with. However, it was wrapping up a videography gig I did a few weeks back — plus the owners of the Llama Inn are just phenomenal humans and bring the vibes. 10/10. Food. People. Everything. Couldn’t ask for a better end to the weekend.
This brings us to numero 5. Oh, you thought I was done after the llamas? Nupe — this one has been an ongoing story and you’ll get a taste of what has been on my mind in Thursday’s newsletter. To intro it — a very, very longtime friendship of mine ended this weekend. It feels like an official end to a chapter of life I need to leave behind. It also made me really appreciate all of the humans I’ve met that I have deep friendships with. More to come on Thursday — it’s going to be all about friendship, community, and relationships. The filling kind.
That’s it for the weekend recap babes. Let’s dive into some Poetry.
I’ve Been Told This Is A New Voice
The best kind of poetry is the kind that someone who knows you on a spiritual level describes as ‘a new voice’ or ‘an evolution of your writing’. The kind of writing that pairs well with the time of life I’m in. The past two poems have been incredibly in tune with what I’m thinking about a lot lately.
Love, life, fulfillment, happiness. The previous one that I wrote most recently ‘Let It Breathe’ might be my favorite one of all time. This one feels like something I’ve been wanting my entire life.
A slow, deep, natural, well-of-life kind of love. One that doesn’t run out. One that always quenches your thirst. Fills you up, and makes you feel cool, calm, and accepted (not collected — sometimes it should drive you crazy). A love that builds year after year and creates a metaphorical home that you get to decorate with meaningful pieces.
I introduce to you ‘Rent Stabilized’.
Rent Stabilized I want the long, slow love The outta no where kind, That knows no ‘where?’ kind. I’ve had the toohottokickit The up in flames arsonist Singe-my-eyebrows and ask why Kind of love It’s been fun but it’s made the cities too slick With my tears, fears and, years 'Slippery when wet' it said. And my feet are shuffling, Grasping for ground, Gripping down and flailing about. While watching each burning building pass me by. As I slip down these streets, Counting the neighborhoods and house numbers. 1, 2, 3, 444. North, West, South and East. 20th, 30th, 40th? No, somewhere in the 80s. 2B, not 2B, 2E. Too easy for me. Making it hard to give up, but never feeling just right. I want the kind of love that calls the fire department and says, 'Hey this apartments on fire, And I really need you to cool it off. My memories are in there, My hearts up on the hearth, I have a dog who’s barking, and couch I can barely sleep on. And sometimes it’s a grouchy apartment, But it’s mine. And I need to rent it for longer than a couple months.' I want the love that makes you re-sign, Year after year. Because the landlord is just that kind. A gentle building and an attentive super. A choice to put your name on the line, Dot the eyes, cross your Ts and pray everyday on your knees, Thanking above that it’s rent stabilized. A place to call home One to decorate slowly, with intention. A place to feel safe, sound, and at ease. As you drink your tea, Sipping on it slowly, Recognizing that this love has always been in me and for me. And will always be mine to give.
I’ve been thinking a lot about this as I’ve gotten off the dating apps and have been letting go of ‘seeking’ love. Rather I’m accepting and giving it freely and seeing where things go in life as I focus more on myself and the things I want.
This being one of them. I’m sure many can relate.
I REMEMBERED WHAT I FORGOT.
No context. Raw dogging this introduction.
I wrote the intro of a book idea I have. I introduce it to you now. Enjoy.
You know, I never really thought I’d ever find myself here. Sitting at the toppa-the-fuggin-world. But. Here we are.
One moment you’re 18, and taking the Hierarchy’s litmus test to decide your fate for the next 80 years. The next — I’m the equivalent of an immortal.
And that wasn’t supposed to fucking happen. No one expected that to happen. NONE. Of this. Was supposed to happen.
I’ve nearly been killed, approximately 80,000 times in the last 250 years because of it. Nearly once every few days. I guess I’ve had Lady Luck on my side.
I’ve been married… 8… times? Now? Each one worse than before.
I’ve been martyred twice. God, that’s a fucking pain. They really just keep bringing me back.
Like for fucks sake let me fake my death and stay dead. I don’t want your fucking power. Or the religions that followed after me being ‘resurrected.’
I was a nobody. I liked it. I accepted my place in the world just as every single one of my friends who are now dead accepted it. 99% of the population accepts their place. We never thought in a million (literally a million) years that one of us could become one of them. And it’s because of what they do to us. And how much time they have to do it. The 1% who have this power, are brutes and no one has ever seen the depths of their power.
Until me.
You might be asking ‘what do you mean? What power — the 1% in my world are just rich billionaires who oppress us through work.’
Yea, I’m aware. I’ve met a few of ‘You’ in the last 250 years. You always ask the same questions. But come a little closer, I’ll let you in on a lil secret.
Those billionaires? In my world — our currency turned into time.
Imagine, you’re worth $100 billis one day? The next. You have 100 billion years to live. It’s not quite THAT simple. But you get the point.
A long, long, long time ago. In a world much different than what mine looks like today... You know, there was a movie that said something like this before? But it’s not in a galaxy far away… It’s right here in this one.
Anyway, as I was saying — a long time ago when this transformation happened, the Almighty Powers That Be set up The Hierarchy.
A way to concretely segregate classes into a caste system that was deemed ‘fair’ and ‘just.’
Everyone prior to the age of 18 is what we call Equivalents. Theoretically equal in power, but we’ve all assumed the truth.
Those that come from families in different castes will end up in the same caste as their blood relatives. It’s always been this way. No exceptions.
The majority of us are given up to 100 years of life upon our 18th birthday.
Some extra lucky ones are given up to 1000. And some extra extra lucky ones 10,000.
The 1%? Let’s just say we’ve never really known how long they live. That is until I came along.
Why ‘up to’ you ask? Well some of us, with how bad it’s gotten, don’t want to live that long… we have a choice you know? And sometimes we choose something that detracts from what ‘they’ give us.
In my hometown we call them Choicers. I’ve always respected them, my parents? Well, they called them a waste.
‘Why give up your life? You have a lot to live for,’ they said.
The ones I knew? It was the hardest, but most powerful choice they could ever make. It was their own, and theirs alone, to make. I don’t say I necessarily agree with it but I understand especially with, like I said, how bad things have got.
The Choicers come from all different castes. A rebellion — when they give up their life sometimes it’s in pursuit of finding out the truth. But many times it’s just an average Joe that doesn’t want to be here anymore. I respect them nonetheless.
Thank you
for the inspiration to get into fiction writing. I love fantasy. I love smut. And I think if I were to finish this book, when I finish this book, that’s where this would go. A sexy, smutty, fantasy novel written by yours truly.I’m very cognizant of the ‘men writing women’ trope. Let me know what you think below:
Positivity Posts:
We’re SO back baby. After a bit of a break (one week? yea? I think). WE’RE SO BACK.
I’ll keep this one to 5 positive newsies. I wanna make those lil worms dance with joy today. And not waste too much time doing it.
What’s your Roman Empire? Mine — the fact that my 83rd great grandmother was the last barbarian queen to fight the Romans, and lose. Or something like that (google Queen Boudica). Well — this weeks Roman Empire is for the art baddies. An ancient Roman Mosaic was found underwater off the coast of Naples. AND. It’s stunning. Stupendously stunning. It’s approximately 2000 years old, and honestly. It’s a MILF. A Mosaic I’d like to Find.
Y’all ever wonder where the Barbie Dream House would be? Everyone thinks California. But. Let me burst that bubble. It’s New Jersey. And it just sold for a clean $500K. Not too shabby to be honest when you compare the Beverly Hills price would likely be like, $5M. I know some Brats Dolls that would LOVE this Pink Dream Home. Idk if this is positive news? But it’s at least fun.
Safety first, especially for this devilishly good looking Chihuahua named Niblet. I hate Chihuahuas but this is a feel good story that needs to be told. Niblet is a special needs chihuahua because of a soft spot on his head that can make his life precarious. So some engineering students decided to figure out a way to protect the pup. PPE? Protective Puppy Equipment. Shout out to these students because Niblet LOOKS GOOD AF IN HIS HELMET.
#FreeTheNipple? No. #FreeTheLynx. This little kitty cat has tried to escape multiple times from a German Zoo and so what did the Zookeepers do? Obviously chained it up to a fence and put it in cat jail. Kidding. That’s cruel and we’re here to spread positivity. The German Zoo decided to let the young cat free so his heart can run wild. He now resides in the forests of Saxony, where he joined a population of wild lynx across Germany and Switzerland that is steadily growing.
Size. Does. Matter. And what better than a massive fucking…. oyster? Talk about something smelling fishy. A HORSE COCK of a oyster was harvested off the coast of England and guess how much that fat fucking hog weighs? 5. Pounds. Imagine a forearm length, slimy, succulent, weighty oyster sliding down the back of your throat as you slurp it out of its huge shell. Some of y’all would like that ya filthy animals. But tbh that’s pretty impressive. Keep on keepin’ on you schlong schuckers.
That’s it for today besties. Hope you have an incredible week — I’ll see you Thursday.
Much luv,
colin scott mortemore
(bet some of u besties didn’t even know my middle name. fake bitches. we ain’t even friends are we?)
Ps. if you’ve not checked out my poetry on Medium you should. A whole 76 other people like it and so should you. Click here for my deepest darkest secrets.