"Unfortunate" doesn't begin to describe my series, this game rewards blind luck and nothing else, I am beyond convinced at this point. After getting completely tooled by scheduling with my opponent changing times on me last minute and refusing to provide confirmation prior to the day of the match as to play times, losing this way somehow felt even worse than I had thought possible. My preparation was superior, my play was superior, and I lost, so I don't see a reason to continue engaging in an activity where what is within my control is overwhelmingly outweighed by what is not.

I am done with competitive Pokemon, and you won't get a fond farewell. This community is infected to its roots with a degenerative disease that grows stronger over time but stops short of killing its host. Tournaments used to have a competitive spirit at their heart, this has been transplanted and replaced with an artificial organ that feeds on vitriol and mockery from insecure little boys that heckle by the sidelines and tear each other to shreds over scraps of attention. The environment we fostered has trapped us all like this in a vicious cycle, and escaping it requires acceptance of the harshest reality we all scramble to explain away, that none of the countless straining efforts we put ourselves through here will ever amount to one single shining glimmer of significance. I would make this the end, but World Cup is still ongoing, and I would never leave so many great friends out to dry, so I'll suffer through a few more games for them.

One last thing before I leave you all to react with disdain, ridicule, and self-righteous fervor, before you do everything in your power to minimize my words and thoughts, box them up and shove them to some cobwebbed corner of your memory, and hope they disappear forever as a stain on your finite time ground to dust. From this moment on, nothing you say matters to me. The foulest insults you hurl with intent to wound will calmly settle at the earth before my feet, and the venom you spit will bring all the pain of a warm summer breeze. You are less than anything you can conceive, while I carry on, brimming with joy distilled from detachment.

This is a throwaway for obvious reasons.

Some background. Politically, I've been a Democrat my entire life and an Obama supporter for as long as I can remember. I volunteered for John Kerry's presidential campaign back in 2004 which is where first registered on my map. I watched his speech at the DNC was was instantly enamoured.

When he announced his candidacy for president in 2007, immediately threw my weight behind him. I knocked on doors, educated people about his policies and did the best I could to get people to vote for him. When he was elected, I was ecstatic. In the past, when I had supported candidates, it was out of cold reason; because I thought their policies and acumen would result in the best net result for this country. But this was a person I could get excited about, someone I could believe in.

When it came time for his campaign for a second term it was largely the same. I had slightly soured on him. Granted, he was not the president I had hoped he would be but that was not his fault. I had built him up to be so huge in my head it was impossible for him to live up to expectations. Republican gridlock in Congress also prevented him from getting through the policies he wanted. Nevertheless, I still supported him, still volunteered and was still happy when he won his second term.

The problem started about three weeks ago. I had a dream involving Barack, which is not uncommon for me, I was working with him and Michelle on their upcoming Netflix show. We were looking over demographics and how they related to various geographical locations. Without even realising it, I said "Yeah, N***er, we should do pretty well in (area near me)" He just looked at me and stormed out with Michelle behind him. I woke up and went into the bathroom to splash cold water in my face. I dismissed it. I don't have a racist bone in my body. This was just one of those dreams, right?

A week and a half ago, I had a similar experience. This time I dreamt we were going wine-tasting together. I don't remember the lead-up but I ended up saying something to the effect of "The sommelier said we should be detecting earthy tones in this wine, but it's just not registering with me, N***er" This time, instead of storming out he replied, very sternly "Why did you feel that was an appropriate thing to say?" I began to stutter and explain it was an accident but I had once again woken up.

The most recent incident was last night. I dreamt I was at a family barbecue with the Obamas, just his family and mine. He was manning the grill and i was speaking to Michelle while the children played with each other (I know Sasha and Malia are adults now but I still think of them as children) I said to Michelle very politely "excuse me for one moment" and marched right up to Barack and tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around to look and me and I just said the word and nothing else. I can write off this happening once or twice in my dreams but three separate events is too much.

I don't know what to do. I don't want to do this. Every time it happens my work suffers the next day. I've started lying to my wife saying I've been having nightmares but I'm not sure she fully believes it. Lately, I've been worrying I might start saying it in my sleep and she could hear. I'm at my wits end and I want it to stop.

The amount of hate i have developed for this episode over the years is UNBELIEVABLE. When it first came out, I thought it was a decent episode, probably because its sister episode "Skill Crane" is one of the best post-movie episodes in my mind. So it's probably a big reason for why i didn't mind this at first. But as the years went on, I began to HATE EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS EPISODE, and to me, is the episode where Spongebob jumped the shark. Like I mentioned before, I still think around 2007 was the point to where the show began to suck, but this was the episode that started the downfall for one of my favorite shows. The episode revolves around Squidward trying to relax and enjoy his Sunday afternoon, but of course, Spongebob and Patrick won't let that happen and decide to make Squidward the president of their Good Neighbor club. Oh man, if you thought I hated that OTHER post-movie episode about Squidward joining the club, that is NOTHING compared to THIS. So the two idiots make their club, complete with FEZZES and Squidward makes them do tedious tasks so he can be left alone on his Sunday. But of course, they managed to screw that up multiple times. After a whole day of not being able to be left alone on his day off, Squidward has enough and installs a security system in his house to get rid of Spongebob and Patrick, but unfortunately for him, the system malfunctions and kicks Squidward out of his house. Security system TAKES CONTROL OF SQUIDWARD'S HOUSE AND BEGINS ATTACKING THE CITY, LEAVING THE MAYOR TO GIVE SQUIDWARD COMMUNITY SERVICE FOR THE DAMAGE HE CAUSED, EVEN THOUGH SPONGEBOB AND PATRICK WERE IN HIS HOUSE FOR THE WHOLE FUCKING TIME AND WERE RESPONSIBLE FOR EVERYTHING. GAH! FUCK THIS EPISODE! This episode is when the Squidward Torture Porns started to become a regular staple in Spongebob's episodes and is just one of the meanest, crulest, and just plain unfair of them all. All Squidward wanted to do was enjoy one day to himself, but that can NEVER happen when he lives next door to Spongebob and Patrick, can it? SIGH. I hate this episode. I hate it so much, I don't even want to talk about it anymore because I'll just get too angry

The amount of hate i have developed for this episode over the years is UNBELIEVABLE. When it first came out, I thought it was a decent episode, probably because its sister episode "Skill Crane" is one of the best post-movie episodes in my mind. So it's probably a big reason for why i didn't mind this at first. But as the years went on, I began to HATE EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS EPISODE, and to me, is the episode where Spongebob jumped the shark. Like I mentioned before, I still think around 2007 was the point to where the show began to suck, but this was the episode that started the downfall for one of my favorite shows. The episode revolves around Squidward trying to relax and enjoy his Sunday afternoon, but of course, Spongebob and Patrick won't let that happen and decide to make Squidward the president of their Good Neighbor club. Oh man, if you thought I hated that OTHER post-movie episode about Squidward joining the club, that is NOTHING compared to THIS. So the two idiots make their club, complete with FEZZES and Squidward makes them do tedious tasks so he can be left alone on his Sunday. But of course, they managed to screw that up multiple times. After a whole day of not being able to be left alone on his day off, Squidward has enough and installs a security system in his house to get rid of Spongebob and Patrick, but unfortunately for him, the system malfunctions and kicks Squidward out of his house. Security system TAKES CONTROL OF SQUIDWARD'S HOUSE AND BEGINS ATTACKING THE CITY, LEAVING THE MAYOR TO GIVE SQUIDWARD COMMUNITY SERVICE FOR THE DAMAGE HE CAUSED, EVEN THOUGH SPONGEBOB AND PATRICK WERE IN HIS HOUSE FOR THE WHOLE FUCKING TIME AND WERE RESPONSIBLE FOR EVERYTHING. GAH! FUCK THIS EPISODE! This episode is when the Squidward Torture Porns started to become a regular staple in Spongebob's episodes and is just one of the meanest, crulest, and just plain unfair of them all. All Squidward wanted to do was enjoy one day to himself, but that can NEVER happen when he lives next door to Spongebob and Patrick, can it? SIGH. I hate this episode. I hate it so much, I don't even want to talk about it anymore because I'll just get too angry