Yes, Chet! He was my favorite Bill Paxton character, too. I thought I was the only one. “Good morning, turdbrain!”

The TSA has made breastfeeding moms drink their own breast milk to prove it’s breast milk. And they’ve made masectomy patients and amputees (or people who were just born without arms or legs) remove their prosthetics for additional screening, and they broke at least one guy’s urostomy bag. Based on the power-tripping…

Weird is not reserved for kittens! My five-year-old blue *loves* sweet things. Frozen raspberries with sugar sprinkled over them? Absolutely obsessed. This morning, it was all I could do to keep him away from my rugelach.

Aw, one paw up, ready to bat at something! And that look in his eye is very “okay, trying to figure out where to aim my jump, and once I do, THEY WILL PAY.”

Aww, he has the classic “ooh, there’s something over there I haven’t broken yet” black kitten look! Mine still gets it even though he’s five years old, probably because he has some developmental issues and is essentially stuck at ten months old as far as behavior goes.

Now that it’s starting to stay light later in the day, I’m going to start walking after work instead of during lunch. Work has gotten really busy, and I’m not able take lunch every day, which means I’m basically sitting at work all day, sitting on the bus on my way home, and then sitting at home all evening. When I do…

*urp* Not anymore. Give me ten minutes or so, though.

All-time favorite movie: eXistenZ. No contest. The rest of the list has these movies, although the order varies depending on my mood:

Not only did someone else write it, but my gut feeling is that they wrote it without his knowledge because he is throwing a fit about it behind the scenes and already writing his imaginary responses to their imagined slights to him. But now that it’s out there, he will be held to it and not be allowed to attend…

I’m always stunned at seafood departments/markets that have whole cooked crab on the same ice as raw fish in their display case, not separated by a barrier. No no no. Cross-contamination, assholes. It’s a thing. When I worked in a seafood department, we had a plexiglass divider between the raw and cooked sections due…

Two things! First, as far as mold in the ice machine goes, people would be amazed and outright disgusted at how comment that is. I am aware it’s a standard feature of ice machines, but I go ahead and use ice out of them anyway because I figure my apartment’s tap water comes from an uncovered reservoir known for having…

“And why are you shaking? Nervous about something?”

Those articles always translate as “Why are you so mean to all of these people? They just want their trains to run on time!” to me. I can’t even read them. We’re stuck with a tantrum presidency because of these people, and we’re being told that “if you had only been nice to them, we wouldn’t be here.” Like they were…

I’m not sure I would call them “bystanders.” The word I keep thinking is “collaborators.”

Such bizarre timing. At the exact same time this post was going up, I stumbled upon a clinic in Orlando called Choices Women’s Clinic. Upon poking around in their FAQ, they claim to provide abortion information, but they don’t perform abortions — or refer for them. *All* of the warning bells went off in my head. AND…

Ooh, I had completely forgotten about that! Now I remember playing with it at my cousins’ house, but my brother and I weren’t allowed to have it at our house because my mom was convinced we would just grind it into the carpet. She was probably right.

For me, it was Mara’s haircut. Oh my god, if my hair would do that, I would actually get bangs. So gorgeous. So jealous.

What we *really* need is for the current administration to stop serving things up on a daily basis that make me immediately think of a specific DK song. That shit was more than thirty years ago. It should be a relic of the past that we just don’t relate to anymore.

Please tell me you packed it up in multiple plastic baggies and layers of protective padding so it won’t just fly everywhere if the envelope get torn. Because loose glitter will jam/destroy the mail sorting machine and can actually cause injury or death to the postal workers. I give zero fucks about what happens to it…

I’m ready to stop living in a Philip K. Dick dystopia any fucking second. (Go read/watch Radio Free Albemuth, and realize the original book was written in 1971 by a man diagnosed with schizophrenia who was also undoubtedly extremely paranoid. I vaguely recall reading it years ago but forgot all of it, so I rewatched…