I really should've done this sooner. Date stamping this way the fuck up there so I can keep track of it.
"Censorship is telling a man he can't have a steak just because a baby can't chew it."
-- Mark Twain
( Fox's Banned Book Checklist )
This week on the Tiny Ouroboros:
How to kill the holiday spirit
Local and informal economies
Anti-consumerism 101
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Everyone loved my hair at Thanksgiving. My cousin-in-law now wants to try shaving hers off. I am a trendsetter.
This week on the Tiny Ouroboros:
Bend over
How I live off of less than 20k a year
When recycling doesn't work
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And speaking of living cheap...I think Christmas is going to suck this year. The holidays are screwing with my already precarious financial situation. So for those of you who get paid time off...enjoy it.
Here's hoping the shitty cheap-ass rice makes decent rice pudding, at least.
EDIT: Fuck, I didn't get enough milk. God dammit.
I'm drawing again. It feels nice to know that I haven't lost all of it.
So yesterday at work I decided I wanted to draw a bunch of animal-headed saints. "Hmmm...Saint Heron, Saint Wolf, Saint Do-...oh, wait there's already a Saint Dog." I decided to draw my own version of Saint Christopher and it didn't turn out too bad. Now I just have to figure out the GIMP.
Working in a stained glass shop does strange things to my brain.
In other news, the earth really is full of things.
This week on the Tiny Ouroboros:
"A road to somewhere"
Tips from a tiny kitchen
I'm still not vegetarian and a discussion about discussions on food
Much ado about a minor chore
Not very exciting this week. Blah.
FUCK YOU MARIE CALLANDER, I CAN MAKE POT PIE TOO! AND IF IT'S NOT AS GOOD, I'LL FIX IT. AND THE CRUST SAYS "HI!"
It feels good to be cooking again, even though I forgot to check the time when I put the damn pot pie in so now I have to guess. Good thing the chicken's already cooked.
So I got more or less the official notice of my promotion at work. It's a pretty informal place, but still subject to corporate bullshit, so there's still things that need doing before I can be promoted. And my GM suggested that I apply for the ability to be sent to new stores to train people on How to Do This Shit Right. Because I'm good at that or something. All I know is that it means I get paid to on occasion. Fuck yes.
How the hell do you deter a cat who actually *likes* the taste of adhesive? I swear to [insert deity here, if applicable] Zoe can smell adhesive three miles away in the dark. She doesn't care if she steps on it. She doesn't care if it get stuck to her face. It's like fucking cat crack.
***
So my character for D&D 101 is effectively a wolfmanwoman. Her name is Cedar and she's an Earth Warden. She can partially turn into a tree. And she refuses to eat plants. And she carries a rock tied to a stick and calls it a mace. Which fits in quite well with everyone else...the entire party is pretty special. It's a campaign run and played by Cepheids, so there was little doubt of that.
