Hypnoderpathy

Panic

Like all people, I possess secret hidden talents the likes of which would make mortal man de-constipate in a bowel-beat. Mine? Well ignoring my awfully awful writing and my cross-eyed drawing penchant, I suppose we’d have to settle on the only thing I’m even worse at. Hypnosis.

Oh I can taste the skepticism all over your smug genitals, butt hear me out here.

As a toddler I was a prodigal little shit. I have paintings hung up I did at 4 that I cannot match, and I’ve heard stories of how I was doing high school mathematics around the same time. So yeah, fuck little me that bastard. Around EIGHT or so I finally took enough beatings to the head to normalize and thus sought knowledge to rekindle my miniature supremacy!

It was then I found my very first book on hypnosis. It was strange reading about therapeutic rape treatment case studies whilst my fellow students observed spots running ability, but I was determined! Determined to make them an army of my own!

ALAS! Reality struck when I learned the bitter truth of limitations. Only being able to make someone do something they would do anyway meant I needed to somehow convince the more dangerous sort to sit down for a little session. That never happened. Instead my test subject was “Odin” (the guy who used to put his name on the comics because he excelled at doing the part of them where you’re not laughing). Worse yet? Faking to appease me as I soon learned.

Many years and books later in high school I was determined to refine my skills and get genuine test subjects for a change. So after explaining hypnosis and rightfully being told how much shit I much theoretically contain, there were a few willing subjects to prove me wrong. “Tumi” was the first great success. I spent one lunch hour putting him deep, deep into sleep and just when I was about to install the initial suggestions? Someone ran up and kicked him twice in the balls. MARVELOUS! He did not flinch! He did not furrow! HE FELT NOTHING BUT THE POOR QUALITY OF MY FRIENDSHIP!!

My powers did bestow some kindness upon his rather large vessel however, I made quite certain to tell him that he’d remember NONE OF THIS and feel absolutely no pain in the bottom half of his body for the rest of the day. When he awoke he was pretty dazed but didn’t seem to be particularly concerned about his ruptured raspberries.

Then “Edmund” and “Yashad”. Both were good friends who didn’t believe in the power of talking to someone slowly, but I bathed both of them in the glorious light! Edmund was knocked out in a minute and when I awoke him for the next class he said “Bullshit, you haven’t even started yet!”. Yashad on the other hand was enthralled by my usual wake up line of “You will feel very relaxed and full of energy” and while he still didn’t believe in Hypnosis he DID go bouncing out the classroom and told me “THAT’S SOME FUNKY SHIT YOU GOT RIGHT THERE!”.

Strangely enough it was always the NON-BELIEVERS that have been easiest for me to hypnotise, because on 3 separate occasions, 3 rather intruiged girlfriends allowed me to attempt it on them. Unfortunately whenever I got to the deeper part of the session and said “You will have an irrisistable urge to take your clothes off when you see Jayde” they…..they burst out laughing and fall to the floor. I even tried this on one friend’s sister (who I still maintain is far better looking than she realizes – YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE) and after the laughter I got nothing more than a mere shame. I did however see her belly exposed months before (when I showed her my santa care bear powers, seconds before she dumped me for being myself) and have long since imprinted it on my photographic memory.

So amazing as my powers of hypnosis are…….why can they not subdue a believer into naked sexy times?!?!?! WHY?!~?!~?

*Ahem* In other news, another ex recently contacted me under a secret alias, possibly because she had trouble letting me go but didn’t really want me around either. Her genuine concern for my possible bursting into a bloody mess was sincerely appreciated buuuut as I tell all women who crush my heart with the breakup dance, “I don’t do the just friends thing”. Making friends is…unexpectedly easy for me. I don’t need more friends. Someone who makes my heart move will ALWAYS effect my heart in one way or another, and I can’t change how I see them so the only solution is to block and ignore them. GOODBYE –again- MISS SHINEAD! (She totally still reads these entries, which means this is awesome to guilt trip her with.)

You know what would make a long-ass post even better? MOAR SHITTY CONTENT.

Indeed, as tribute to the many who tell me I should be a writer I have finally begun attempting a novel of sorts. I think of myself as a terrible writer, but it seems throughout history all of the best writers have thought themselves shitty, so that works in my favour.

Because I have a deeply wounded ego and only slightly swollen testicles, I’ll be posting each chapter up here for you guys to “critique”. It IS against my better judgement to do so, but if I don’t get positive reinforcement I’m absolutely certain I’ll drop off working on it at some point (like what happened with ALL THE COMICS YOU BASTARDS IGNORED FOR YEARS).

Absolutely no expected frequency with this buuuut you can grab Chapter 1 now.

P.S.

I used this video to show my fantastic ability to try and not look like shit at any given moment but kept it secret until your genitals were properly prepared.

P.P.S.

This particular drawing was done ENTIRELY using my secret illustrator-fu. I’ve actually discovered due to arthritis and suck that I’m better now with my technical mouse skills than my hand-related drawing one. It’s uncoloured because….because that looked good and you should stop asking dangerous questions.

P.P.P.S.

Due to the enormous amount of exams I completed already, Microsoft just sort of GAVE me another certification they just made up because I’d already filled it’s requirements. My journey to become the most pointlessly over-qualified somethingarather now sits at a rather startling count of 9.

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