Author Archive for Kaine Andrews


Itchy. Tasty.

Having been up most of the night trying to combat an infestation that has resulted in near-constant assault by insects for the greater park of a week, I have come to a conclusion.

My neighbor must work for Umbrella Corporation. Not Blue Umbrella, not Neo Umbrella. The OGs of the “hey, let’s see what happens when we do this!” camp.

Since he has moved in, we’ve had explosions, one after another, of silverfish, roaches, mice, fleas and bedbugs. All of them almost ridiculously resistant to all normal methods of destruction. The bedbugs are now eating their third Raid fog bomb (having already survived multiple flea treatments, 110+ degree temperatures, a visit from the Orkin man and a bleach soaking of the mattress, bedding and boxspring.)

I firmly believe these pests are T or G virus mutations. It’s the only explanation. The fact that he stands by his window in the buff, grunting and moaning, while a spectacularly fetid smell leaks from his apartment only reinforces this notion.

It’s only reminding me why I loathe other people; between having to be paranoid about measles thanks to a compromised immune system, having a neighbor who has more green clouds (that I’m allergic to) leaking out from under his door and then under mine than you see in a Cheech and Chong movie, and now the new neighbor bringing with him genetic experiments that infest the whole building.

Can I just live in a cabin in the woods, way the hell away from others? I wish.


Thank you!

Taking a break from the angry rants of the last few posts to express some gratitude. As my loyal readers are aware, I’m not well, but some folks have stepped up to help out where they can. They are very much appreciated.

Thank you very much to Oh No Tuxedo Mask, who supports me via Patreon; you should drop by her Twitch page and follow her. She’s quite entertaining. Thank you very much for your support. It means a lot.

A lovely human, who chose to remain anonymous, contributed to my GoFundMe page; thank you from the bottom of my heart. If there is a way I can repay you or thank you, please get in touch and let me know.

If anyone else out there would like to help, please stop by my Patreon or GoFundMe pages. Everything helps, and keeps me trudging on, even if it’s just a share, retweet, or “Like.”  If you can’t, that’s totally okay; no hard feelings. It’s always appreciated and never required.

For others out there struggling, keep the faith. Have hope. It’s not easy, but sometimes things work out. Keep them fingers crossed. (And if you’re having medical issues or struggling to get yourself heard, feel free to drop your links down below, too.)

KA Spiral no signature



There is little in the world that annoys me, crushes any sense of accomplishment, or brings on the waves of crippling depression and paralyzing rage than a cheater.

The definition of a “cheater” is pretty broad in my head, I suppose. Maybe I shouldn’t let it get to me. But basically, I count anyone who abuses a system, who breaks the rules or a system, or who warps the rules and definitions of a system so they can claim to “win” – especially at the expense of others and/or myself – as a cheater. Also included are people who want to brag about being #1 at something when they’ve so mutilated the criteria that there’s really no one else running.

That includes people with aimbots or lagbots, or folks who are using party chat to rig a match in an online game. That includes people who want to brag and ram it down your throat that they’re the #1 bestseller in the nonbinary lesbian moongender vampwolf otherkin comedy romance thriller genre on Amazon (and the inverse; “I’m looking for manuscripts, but only if nonbinary lesbian moongender vampwolves are doing the submissions.”) That includes all the self-diagnosed “neurodivergent” people who treat mental illness as a badge of honor and use it as a free ticket to get out of trouble or claim special treatment. That includes the folks who claim disability and receive benefits (usually for nebulous conditions like a “bad back”) who then spend their days jogging around the neighborhood and working on cars for cash under the table. This includes people who, despite living in a supposedly non-smoking complex (and being quick to report you if they saw you using a vape device without having gone past the imaginary sidewalk line) spend most of their time spewing so much pot smoke that it leaks under the door of neighboring apartments, and somehow are immune to punishment. This includes people who claim nonexistent (or, as I call it, “conveniently existent”) disabilities or gender identities to use them as bludgeons against others, excusing everything from frivolous lawsuits to pedophilia and perjury.

It’s a long list. And it’s the sort of thing that’s always made me furious. I remember being in the first or second grade, one of the students – and notorious bully by virtue of his height and girth – was trotting around the schoolyard claiming to be the “King of Grades.” Yes, it’s stupid. But it still enraged me, especially because I knew it to be false; you don’t get consistently held back to finish homework or repeat quizzes if you’re doing well. I remember getting myself landed in detention because I ended that discussion by hysterically shouting random questions at him, trying to “prove” he was lying by catching him in a wrong answer. “What’s a bicuspid?” That was the last one I recall.

Yeah, I’m nuts. I know it. “Don’t let it get to you,” most people would say, or more colloquially, “Don’t let the bastards get you down.” It’s born of a seething inferiority complex that’s compounded by an inability to feel any sort of pride my own accomplishments or having that pride ripped away, shat on, or belittled by those around me (or, in today’s lovely environment, being told that pride is somehow “problematic.”)

Still, rage-inducing. Promoting me to stare at the sharp objects far too often. Liable to force me to submerge and pretend I don’t exist again or make me throw my hands up in the air and stop taking my meds or even trying.

Not a happy post today. Sorry, folks.

KA Spiral no signature


Autoplay Isn’t Your Friend

I spend a lot of time with YouTube running. Not much else to do. Anyone who’s used it extensively is well aware of the “Autoplay” function, which keeps the videos coming, claiming them from that little sidebar of recommended content.

That thing is evil. Based as it is in YouTube’s algorithms, designed to keep feeding you content that it thinks you watched, based on what you watched previously, it drops you down a rabbit hole. That whole thing with Matt Whatever It Is or whatever his name was and the “webcam from” “wormhole” drama followed by a fresh Adpocalypse showed that.

Now, to be fair, sometimes it does what I want. I slap on an ASMR video and pass out, usually YouTube does a good job of picking more soothing voices to hiss at me all night. I pick a Markiplier or Mista GG video, it funnels more weird games or Chris Hansen commentary to me.

The problem comes when I’m already in a foul mood (when am I not, though?) and I watch something for information, but get focused on something else and let the app keep rolling just for the noise/company. Like watching a Blaire White video to see what the whole Jessica Yaniv thing is all about, then get sucked into two hours of hearing about this nutjob and what they’ve done (and are still doing) and how they get away with it. Or when I watch a Sargon of Akkad video to hear what his thoughts on electron processes are, but then somehow end up watching forty minutes of the Socialist Democrats conference, where they spend the whole time shrieking about “Points of Personal Privilege”and voting on how to vote so they can vote and voting if the vote counted and all the while they’re crying because people are clapping, or because someone said “you guys” instead of “fellow comrades” and someone else was triggered.

Yeah, autoplay is bad for my mental health. I wonder if I have a lawsuit of my own in there, somewhere. Probably not, since I’m not one of the cool kids with a Tumblr identity tag, but one can dream that this crap would do something useful for me instead of just increasing my rage factor.

Sorry. Today’s post is a little ranty and mostly pointless. I blame the mental state YouTube left me in yesterday and the assault of insects I suffered in the night.

Hope everyone’s weekend is going well. Until next time!

KA Spiral no signature


Feeling Musical

This is still, in my opinion, one of the best songs. It’s not a happy song. It’s not a song that helps with depression, or makes me feel better. But it’s amazing, and I haven’t listened to it in a while. We should all listen to it once in a while.


Trophy Hunt, August 9th


The hunt continues. In a constant bid to inflate my e-ego, there are always more trophies to be earned, more imaginary accolades to set on the shelf. Some weeks, the chase is akin to Godzilla storming through the middle of Tokyo. Wrecked games everywhere, hundreds of little “ding” noises to signify accomplishments.

This was not that sort of week. I did finally put The Coma: Recut to bed, which was far more stressful than it needed to be – the last chunk of the game suffers from a severe lack of save points, and given the random nature of your pursuer, bad controls, and less-than-functional stealth mechanics, I ended up repeating the same 20 minute sequence around forty times, instead of the twice (once for each major ending) it should have taken. But it’s done. Beyond that, not much progress. Some picking at Dead Island: Riptide (why I bother, given that there are several Online-only trophies required for the Platinum, that I know full well I’ll never get, and given that the game is utter shite on top of it, I don’t know), still trying to level up in Doom (gotta wear that Cyberdemon armor and get 10 Spectre kills for the sweet, sweet, Golds, yo,) and puttering about in Judgment (which, like all Yakuza games, is 100+ hours of doing random crap for the lulz, after which you may receive a trophy.)

GameFly is supposed to be delivering Code: Realize: Bouquet of Rainbows today, so should be ticking some trophies off on that one, at least. And I could always go back and actually finish Game of Thrones to mark up a fresh Platinum if I really hated myself. (As an aside, GoT suffers from the same problem the show and the books have: somehow they take a story all about rape, incest, murder, war, zombies and ancient gods and make it dull as all hell. I don’t know how they manage that.)

Now if I could just manage to break into the top 2,000 in the country rankings… (I actually managed to hit 1997 for an hour or two, but then the usual flood of $3 trophy farm games with multiple stacks hit, the usual suspects raped them in two hours, and back into the 2,000s I went. Le sigh.)

If you want to stalk my progress, you can hunt me down on PSN as Ashande. Sometimes I stream my games, which can be found right here on Twitch.

Hope everyone’s weekend goes well, and if you’ve got suggestions for games to assault for their trophies (or see something on my list you’re having trouble with), let me know down below!

KA Spiral no signature


How to Remove Blood Stains from Everyday Items — Spelk

I solemnly swear I am up to no good… (Comments disabled here. Please visit the original post.)

by Karen Jones What you’ll need (ideally): Cloths. Baking soda. Lemons. Hydrogen peroxide. Hand soap. Dish-washing liquid. 1. Removing blood from clothing. Use a baking soda/water solution. Dab the stains with mixture. Try to stop your hands shaking. Calm. If you don’t have baking soda, rub the stain with lemon juice. Add salt. Scour with a […]

via How to Remove Blood Stains from Everyday Items — Spelk

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