The Dangers of BWI

Bullhorning while impaired. It's not a widely known issue but it can be a very dangerous thing. Take our friend Roland. Out on a pub crawl with his brand new hoodie... and a bullhorn. He wouldn't listen to his brothers and just leave the blasted thing at home. He thought he knew better.

The cops found him out in the dead of a winter's night in a thin pair of shorts and undershirt ranting downtown. He tested positive for high levels of nectar and was thrown into the tank.

There was an outcry in the community to save this young man from himself. Even Grimmie turned up in a desperate attempt to put young Roland on the right path. A little extreme, some said, but it if worked....

Roland's brush with death did nothing to turn him around. He was spotted in the local pub with his sexy hoodie and drink in hand two weeks later. He swore up and down he didn't have his bullhorn - he'd left it at home, he said. He was okay, he said.

And that's where he went a few hours later; after stopping off at that seedy little wig shop down the road. For three hours he ranted and raved like a madman. His brothers called for help.

Unfortunately, the cops didn't get there fast enough.


Remember, drinking and bullhorning (and driving) is dangerous. It can even kill you. Stay safe.


This has been a weird public information film.

Introducing the Sadist!

WARNING! THIS IS NOT SIM-RELATED!

          I have kept a diary since the earliest days of 1993 and will probably be buried with my most recent incarnation of it (currently on #15, by the way). I started keeping a blog (not very often, as you might have noticed) back in 2008 because why not. Thanks to the Sims I've done much more with my blog of late. This blog is only going somewhere if Blogger dies. I'm not often very personal in this blog because I save that stuff for my diary but I got back from my doctor this afternoon and was amazed at how happy I felt. I usually feel pretty good after a chat with my M.D. and I think it's because I talk with her. One can write in a journal for pages and pages and one can talk to a cat for hours and hours but it's always going to be no more than a one-sided discussion.
           My family already knows about what I'm going to write here but their experience with this matter is very limited. I'm writing about this because I know it's more common than I once thought. The two or three people following this blog might know someone (especially if that someone is themselves) under a similar cloud and might have some suggestions for me. To be blunt, there's a little sadist living at the back of my mind. Periodically (every few days) he pokes his head out and whispers darkness and doubt to me. Once upon a time I thought I was merely a common worrywart. Now I know this matter - this little sadist - has a name. I've begun to call him the GADabout but most people would call him Generalized Anxiety Disorder.
           I have a history of worrying - going back to my teens - but it only became noticeable when I moved from my parents' house into the Great Unknown. I had a panic attack in 2010 which made me start wondering. I attended a conference on stress in 2012 (if I recall correctly) and learned that stress was the cause of more than a few illnesses. Something else to worry about. I'm not the only one in this world that's worried about worrying. Probably one of the nastier vicious circles out there. It wasn't until 2015 that I really began feeling the presence of the sadist. It's the physical symptoms that really got on my nerves.
           Nausea, insomnia, palpitations, and other completely wonderful horrors to haunt my days. Okay, it's not nearly as bad as I make it out to be (mountains out of molehills - the story of my life) but it was enough to finally send me out doctor-hunting. It didn't take her long to figure out what was really going on within. I took an anxiety test and answered a bunch of questions and now we know I have a mild form of GAD. It doesn't keep me from going to work (although there have been a few times I've had difficulty going into the grocery store because of my gag reflex - TMI, amirite?) but it's been a great deal of frustration.
           There's not much else to say. I'm keeping watch over my worries in my journal and dueling with the sadist. Things are all right today but I may spend next week sleepless and stressed. Now I put the point out to anyone reading this. Are you in the same boat? How do you steer your boat? Thank you for reading and have a wonderful evening.