mayamail #132 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ zaterdag 18 oktober so much happens in a day, no? was streaming the sims 4, or at least that was what my first screen was doing. then she barged in with a loud ‘hoi!’ startling the shit out of me because she forgets to knock sometimes. on my second screen to the left, besides my proud chat of four and banning someone for discussing the upcoming snap elections (jetten ftw btw, don’t @ me), was **lewdfroggo’s pillow princess** playing. i have grown tired of hentai, keeping it more vanilla, ja? booktok also gives me the ick, i’d rather not delve on that one. she kept asking if this leon here was the same one from re4, because apparently she started playing games herself, starting with the classics like doom, quake, cs 1.6, halo 2, and fallout 3, whatever oldgen shooter you can think of. told her the leon in this one was from an alternate universe where ada has curves or something, since she still does not know what human penetration implies, or the entire concept of r34 for that matter. people say you mentally mature by twenty-five, and she is well into three years closer to it by december, but the point i am trying to get across is does she even have a frontal lobe to develop, to mature, perhaps lobotomise? to be fair, you cannot lobotomise what is not there. she is still single which is a surprise, any moid would flock to her retarded ass like flies to shit, but what baffles me is i got a taste of love earlier than she did. really strange. ik ben verdomme geen hoer, chat. the sjef arc will be in another entry. again, there coco was with the unsolicited greeting. uggghhhhhhhhhhhhhh. told her to fuck off, she would not budge. unstoppable force (femcel chud) against immovable object (gigastacy) was the dilemma here. she was carrying with her a sony gdm-f900 monitor as a keepsake her client gave her for fixing up a heating issue for his 5090. that guy probably had an antique setup and decided one day that he wanted to play rust on 4k instead of starcraft all day. anyway she would not stop yapping about how it has had three rebrands, that the one she was carrying was the silver sdi gdm-fw9011 variant, and that it had a ‘remarkably impressive’ resolution of 1920 by 1080 for its y2k standards. could not have imagined she would know anything about monitors, handling mid-high range graphics cards, let alone fixing them up. apparently, for that client the heating issue was resolved with a spray of water. so she showed me this monitor thinking it would impress me. buddy, i have a twenty-seven inch asus proart display pa279crv for a primary—not just terribly helpful for streaming, but gets the colours right whenever i hop on csp to draw anything lewd or sfw, and a matching benq el2870u for secondary for chat or netflix (but no chill). i do not care for your vintage ‘faps.’ i gotta eat. but then i noticed my viewership’s uptick. of course this happens. every single time she visits me, it is always the same. ‘give us the blonde one!’ ‘why isn’t she one of your sims?’ ‘cas one! beat her to death?’ ‘mayadebae mccc with the blonde please please please.’ etc. also, for that other one with the gore, uhh, tos much? then again sluts get away with so much: the hottubs category alone rakes in so many of these types. one whore even had a guy crawl up chained up like a dog and in full latex to her stream. and if i make a sim kill itself i get a week off? fuck you dan. my viewers surged from four to eighty-seven people. last tuesday it was one-hundred and two. slower day, but hey, the blonde’s here. usually she respects me continuing with my streaming and doesn’t bother me while doing so, but her mere appearance lets the simps out. she don’t want you bros, as much as i hate to admit it but my sister has standards. however today of all days, she decided to tell me about ma and pa and an aunt who recently visited. she told me they were ‘looking for maya, that recluse!’ or whatever that meant. recluse?! excuse me, i’m not stuck-up and high-strung anymore. i think. i went to eindhoven last month! i was at efteling last saturday with a friend! we went to pagode and had a nice nostalgia trip, was it carnival or vastenavond? great nostalgia trip regardless. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ okay nvm, remembered it was not that great. will i talk about it? sure (fuck you, no). ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ so this guy, right? let’s call him exhibit r because why not. he paid for everything. no wonder coco kept going out with him back in highschool, fatass thinks she’s so slick! get this, exhibit r? used to be a big hotshot in my high school history class, any class actually. tried to cheat off of him in maths since he and sjef—fuck off, i am not hung up on him—were seated behind me but meneer bart always, always, always caught me. i know, i know, i am going out on a limb here. high school, looking back, was weird as hell now that i think about it. almost died, my other sister had this weird phase with the trading company (maya, you had yours too, wicca and all), our history teacher got accused of grave misconduct with said hotshot and was investigated for three months or whatever. but exhibit r was transferred for safeguarding, or whatever our school welfare coordinator called it. i could have sworn everything was unfounded. losing myself here, he is not important to the afternoon i had. no, not the previous saturday. what i’m trying to say is: it happened again. so coco, she gets close to my mic, to which i (chat can vouch for me) kept telling her to back off! she would not. she said some high-falutin greetings like she always does. let me get my other notes, whatever i think i have them in a post-it somewhere. hang on. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ found them. could not find my phone anywhere either so i had to write them down, since i will explain to you in massive detail why you are asking in your head right now, ‘just pull out the vod?’ oh, let me tell you. as soon as she tapped my studio mic twice, she had this to say: ‘felicitous salutations, twitch dot tv! i come to you in peace as a guest of my beloved sister’s streaming services! may i interest you in getting your motherboards fixed up, or to lend you the work of human hands in your thermal sinks' cooling efficiencies? go to www.x.com—my handle is cocomputers—c-o-c-o (she fucking spells it out loud ffs)—for inquiries regarding my computatorial services, whether it be gaming, work-related hardware issues, or your own product placement, look no further for us at 41 leidsestraat, fifteen minutes from centraal! cellular phones are also in my repertoire.’ she ended up with a fucking ad read on my channel. how dare this hussie! then my mic, it just went plop, unattached itself from the stand and fell on the ground. we were both clueless, speechless, chat was going nuts, till she had a bout of realisation, of what was about to happen that i was, at the time, unaware of. then. my mic just flew upwards. like, dragged itself into the fucking ceiling as if pippi herself just shoved it up there. hole. big gaping hole. wot de fok. that does not just happen at all. i said pippi would shove it up there right? she would not do this, she has nothing to do with what was happening. suddenly, my entire setup, because my mic was attached to my pc, wiring and everything was also taken to the skies (fuck wireless, 5g is a global conspiracy by palantir to control our lives through our data, birds are not real, and the internet is dead. no, taping my front phone camera shut and streaming are not mutually exclusive). stream got cut off, and chat had no idea, neither did i who was there. coco, with her stupid monitor in her arms, and those big, computer technician eyes, like a puppy that just wet the bed, and the bed burst in flames because her piss is kerosene—just looked at me and offered it to me like i would just take it. as if it was enough to replace my thirty-two-hundred euro setup. what else was i supposed to do? i told her to fuck off, kick rocks, but not before taking the monitor. it is the least she could do. she’ll pay for it, she says. i have dated a deadbeat to not fully trust that. apparently this was what happened six years ago, too. the entire thing with the presentation. weird. mymy would have loved to see just how absurd her sister is for casually breaking physical laws. maybe she can haggle god with a boilerplate lawsuit on particle physics and gravity? what a day, chat. i wonder what else is happening to have this happen to me. pippi, if you can hear this, please get these cocos away from me, at least for a while. oh, and i won’t be streaming anytime soon, it goes without saying but let us just say it anyway. do not know when that will change. *** ^takes place within the same day of the novel, six years after the pilot. placement precedes the preface.