I've never really thought about it before - but every time I've really broken down it has been a profound point of personal advancement.

My most profound breakdown was earlier this year when a bunch of stuff went all kinds of fucked up. And after that - my last residues of interest in other peoples perceptions of my life went away. I recently built a StAndrew's Cross (the big X shaped thing perverts tie people to before they hit them) - When the lady in the Lumber yard asked me what I was building, I told her "A St Andrew's Cross. She said "Oh, are you religious?"

When I explained what a St Andrew's cross was for, she got a sudden page and had the forklift opperator get the timber for me, and run me through the checkout.

I built the cross in my carport - which is fully open to my neighbours view. We tested the cross on a variety of people in the carport so we could make sure the angles were right - with neighbours on looking. The cross spent a week in my carport being painted and finished off (because I am lazy and a hopelessly crap handyman) - but there was no effort to hide it, or what it was from anyone who came to visit.

The only people who got a truncated explanation were my mother and a friends 6 year old. Mum got the short version - "It's furniture Mum. Don't ask." Fortunately the 6 year old just assumed that I had some crazy adult thing for making giant letters of the Alphabet. She keeps asking if I've made a Z yet.

bunny. you make my bunny bunny.

While I don't necessarily enjoy my breakdowns, I have learned that there is very little to fear.

I dropped trou (accidentally--was taking some boxes to the dumpster) in the middle of my apartment complex parking lot the other day in plain view of a teenage boy and his mom.

I calmly yelled "shit," dropped the boxes, pulled my shorts back up and continued on my merry way.

Several years ago this would have mortified me.

Bunny, your night stand matches mine!! Just I have a Cars night light and a less fancy vibrator!

Ah... my public humiliations just can't compare to the Bunny's. Once again I offer a hug, a drink, and a dope slap on the back of the head (which for some unknown reason growing up we called a Waldo Pepper).

Bunny, you are the best.

Bunny, I love that picture. It's awesome. My nightstand is very similar. My rabbit looks a little different and I have KY lube. And Playboy, not Hustler. Sometimes I make a cursory attempt to conceal the items, but it's usually only for the maid. Love you Bunny!!

I take it you're talking about Jeremy Williams. His fights in Icon Sport were pretty sweet.

Breakdowns aside (though I agree with your general thesis), your nightstand alone makes me want to marry you. And by marry I mean tie up. And by tie up I mean slather in honey. Take that as you will.

Bunny;

I will totally drive to wherever it is that you're living in LA. I'm in KY. That's how much you rock.

I think I would have walked back to that laptop with a proud smile on my face. Shocking the puritans is one of my favorite activities.

Lil' Miss Bunny, breakdowns are fine--otherwise you'd have nothing to build back up, and that's the best part (i.e. clawing your way out of the hole to the fresh and rosey). That being said, I'm waay over the whole "I'm weird and prone to breakdowns and the rest of the world is normal thing." Normalcy is a different state of being for every person. So what if you have your shit together (at least outwardly)? You lose all the fun of the roller coaster ride of emotions. Love your writing. Anyone who can relate epistemology and soft-core porn is A-OK with me.

Not long ago I entered the blogging world as a link between being an internet junkie and constantly needing to let out, my mind is a bit like your intestines. Your entry touched me. I already have the month record of daily breakdowns and your statements made me believe it all will be alright. After seeing your night table I realized I how I miss my dildo today. Going for a little masturbation, will be right back.

I come from a very liberal family that must've had a lot of breakdowns before I was born.

One day my mom decided to drop by her parents' house for a surprise visit, when she heard screaming inside. Worried that my grandma had fallen or something, she burst through the unlocked door...to find her parents watching porn on full blast (as grandpa was hard of hearing) in the living room. My mom was probably more surprised than they were, because my grandma simply nudged my grandpa and shouted "Honey, turn the volume down" and then offered my mom a drink.

P.S. My rabbit is pink.

Sweet lamp. I never did watch that movie. I decided to watch it with a friend. Since we rarely ever saw each other I avoided the movie until we had a chance to eventually watch it. She watched it before I did and I've never watched it. That was a pointless short from me. It's cool that you're heading a clothing line. Keep it up.

Thanks for posting this. I had one (I call it a breakthrough, thanks AK) and I probably would have died without intervention. But it was something else, my senses were heightened, my mind was quicker than it had been in years, I could remember Spanish again and I laughed and cried like a looney.

I got thrown in the nuthouse, but I wouldn't take it back. May God bless us all. :)

In this entry, you remind me of the narrator from Fight Club. Except, you know, that book's all about men feeling empowered in a society that doesn't care about them... but the attitude's still the same. Bonus for actually fighting at a gym.

Astroglide goes on great, but it gets too tacky when it dries.

my rabbit is red, my nightlight is a bug, and i keep penthouse on my nightstand. i thought i was the only one!

I used to keep my Rabbit on the night stand, but then that habit carried over to when I was back living with my mother for a time, and she was oh so nice and decided to clean my room, because I'm a slob. I came home from work wanting a very prolonged masterbatory session only to find that my cherished Rabbit had disappeared...I searched for it for a week. Finally I sucked it up and asked my mother where it went, the conversation went something like this. **I also refer to my mother as Mooder...don't ask why**
Me: ...so Mooder...just out of curiousity but where did my--
Mooder: I wrapped it in a towel and stuck it in the back of your closet. It's quite the little contraption isn't it?
Me: you didn't...did you?
Mooder: I just turned it on, it kind of scared me. You probably shouldn't keep it on your nightstand, what if your grandmother sees it?
Me: Mooder, Gramma's a hippie. She used to grow weed in your backyard, she works for a bunch of communists, and if she's going to critisize me about it, the only thing she'd berrate me for is that it's made out of synthetic material.
Mooder: Well...alright...just stuff a towel under your door when you're having your happy time, your sister doesn't need to hear that.

Ahh...family disfunction, how I love thee