Crows are frickin’ awesome. Ever since I read the article I’ve linked below, I toss sunflower seeds to the crows I encounter on my morning walks. I have yet to receive any presents, though, the ingrates.

A family friend had his cat “certified” (pretty sure he just printed some shit off the internet) as an emotional support animal just so he could bring it on a plane for free.

Oh god, I’m so sorry!  I can just imagine it oozing through the holes and...yikes.

I lived through the jelly shoe nightmare of the 80s and they did a NUMBER on my frickin’ feet so these can piss right off and I’ll stick with sneakers and, because it is roughly the temperature of the sun where I live, a hefty sprinkling of Gold Bond powder inside so nobody has to deal with my unfortunate funk.

My four word endorsement: young, naked Rupert Graves. (Not that older, clad silverfoxdaddy Rupert Graves is anything to sneeze at. I am incapable of watching him in Sherlock without blurting out “FUCK, JUST TAKE ME”, which my partner greatly appreciates, I’m sure.)

Unrelated: I am very much enjoying the synchronicity of our avatars appearing in succession.

“Mmmm, killin’ babies sure does work up a powerful thirst.  Iced tea will quench that right quick!”

I...just...what??? What on earth is the thought process here? “Abortion is wrong! I’ll put these pictures into a box of diapers because...wait, living human babies wear diapers so they weren’t aborted...uh...oh fuck it.”

I...just...what??? What on earth is the thought process here? “Abortion is wrong! I’ll put these pictures into a box of diapers because...wait, living human babies wear diapers so they weren’t aborted...uh...oh fuck it.”

Oh man, and the local grocery store has the Malteser bars too!  They look weird (like a row of soapy butts) but they’re so good.  The balls (heh) are better for movie snackin’, though.

This looks dreadful but I’m here for it because I have a soft spot for bad movies and a wet spot for Jason Statham.  Will catch on DVD eventually with some cola bottle weed gummies and a big bag of Maltesers.

Oh no! Will he ever be able to enjoy snacks again? I am crushed by this news!

I’m reading Watch the Girls by Jennifer Wolfe.  It’s about a washed-up former teen star who decides to start a webseries investigating Stone’s Throw, a small California town made famous by the films of a Dario Argento-esque horror director.  Several young women have disappeared while traveling on the “Dark Road”, and…

I like these witch hazel wipes:

Basically the more nicknames I have for a person/animal, the more I love them. Previous cats of mine have been nicknamed Otto von Fluffenrumpen, Senor Muffinpants, Sneakerdoodle (the one cat whose name sort of went with her real name, Sneakers; I didn’t name her, she was a rescue and came with that name), and Most…

Absolutely! I love him so much.

Fifty Shades Freed.  My partner and I knew it would be bad (we’d seen the other two) and decided to enjoy some weed-laced cookies before the movie to help ease the pain.  My god, it was even dumber than the others!  The acting was basically Skinemax level, and when Anastasia, in her job as an editor, looks at a piece…

Oh my god, no fucking thank you.  I almost barfed reading the new David Sedaris where he talks about feeding his lipoma to a snapping turtle (long story); watching one being removed would send me a-swoonin’ to the floor.  I’m not easily grossed out, but I guess I’ve found my limit.

Props to this lady for not panicking but come on, she ain’t the Magical Mountain Lion Whisperer.  The mountain lion left to get away from the fucking drum circle.

I DID TOO!  My favorite poster of his was absolutely smeared with Bonne Bell Lipsmacker (either pink lemonade or Dr Pepper, they were my faves back then).