nobody here but us chickens

Random Wednesday

No. Really. Stop doing that. I’m so serious.

I need some mirrorless in my life.

I’ve been writing this letter for three fucking months. Longer. I don’t even know. This letter is older than I am.

What would you have done with the leftover cats?

I just read this sentence and almost peed my pants laughing: “Hollywood continues to be a deeply conservative place where coming out doesn’t feel like an option.”

I’m not expecting a thank you card, but a simple “hey thanks for that really thoughtful thing you did” in passing is common fucking courtesy.

Why would you ever put a comma there? In what universe does that make sense?

Listen. Just because there’s caramel involved does not mean you are morally obligated to add “sea salt” to it. First of all, salt is salt. Secondly, not everyone is a fan.

Too much goddamn estrogen in this office. Which means there is also too much goddamn perfume in this office. I am probably suffocating right now.

Stop putting an apostrophe in Nachos Deluxe. I beg of you.

Your perfume smells like Lysol. It’s awful.

Well there go my lunch plans. Dammit.

It’s like a script she’s memorized. She just jumps from person to person repeating it.

No one knows that that’s a picture of Murray Rothbard. And it makes me so happy to have hidden it in plain sight.

I probably needed more deodorant this morning.

Even so, I still smell better than your perfume.

I quite often wish I still smoked.

I don’t know. On the one hand you think, “How could you not know your husband was a serial killer?” But on the other hand, most people are purposely obtuse, particularly when they choose to spend their lives with sociopaths.

I’m probably taking it too personally, but when you know something is my job, I find it a teensy bit insulting when people say “are you able to” do something. It’s offensive, really. Obviously I’m bloody well able.

Just don’t come back dead and it’ll be all good.

Well I’d like to visit those places, but my life won’t be ruined if I don’t.

I’m digging this fella quite a bit.

So … you and your perfume are just here all day then are ya?

There are a handful of people to whom I speak very formally in electronic communication.

You know what sucks? Selling your house.

But. I don’t need to buy eggs.

Man my head hurts today.

so. much. dumb.

It’s a lot of shoes.

Everyday is Halloween.

money! gimme some money!


Or I could just buy some skulls.

Ahhhhh. There it is. The My Favorite Murder fandom has begun to feast on the flesh of the podcast hosts. It was only a matter of time, really.

Please. Just don’t be in a foul mood.

Awesome. Because changing our passwords every 6 months wasn’t torture enough. No. Now we have to use two factor authentication for our database login. Fucking yay.

Why would I want the Nancy Grace book? That woman is AWFUL.

I wish I had a chocolate chip scone right now.

Doing anything publicly is inherently dangerous these days. There’s a mob around every corner, just waiting to devour you.

‘There’s a hole in the world. Seems like we ought to have known.’


Random Wednesday

I gotta get some new photos uploaded. Quit recycling these old ones.They are some of my favorites though.

Who even is that guy?

i would change for you

It’s true. I’ve pretty much abandoned all hope. It’s OK. I’m getting used to it.

Maybe the ACLU should think about a name change, some rebranding … (It’s funny cos I typed that name change comment before I’d even reached the end of the article. Looks like Reason has the same idea.)

I regret that purchase. Immensely.

Gah those ears. Maybe fighting is the wrong career move.

Well, she dropped a pebble in the outrage pool. It’s only a matter of time now.

I’ve processed my Gaiman grief and am moving on with my life.

Nice alliteration, jackass.

I guess if you’re gonna jump out of your car to dance for a video like a moron, you sort of have those injuries coming. Because you’re a moron.

but babe that doesn’t mean

I am having trouble figuring out how to talk to a human.

Can’t I just wave a magic wand or something?

I thought that said “Certified Fight Trainer.” It did not.

I’ll probably never be described as “beloved.”

Yes, it really has been that long since I had a pedicure.

I still don’t like avocados.

I love this woman so much.

Chick-fil-A has been here for what, two years now? And I’ve somehow only managed to eat there one time. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?

Look, it’s right on my end.

But I don’t have a coroner’s note.

It’s funny cos it’s true.


Oooooh Premium Class! Heeeeyy!

No. No, I am not.

i’m gonna be a better man

Well, that was nearly painless right up until the end.

Nothing like an English major that can’t spell.

By the time I realized I hadn’t posted it was nearly midnight.


oh oooh oh oh I am SO SORRY NOW

First Wave plays WAY too much Smiths. And U2.

I feel like if I had company more often, my house would be cleaner more. But then I’d have to deal with people more. It’s a trade off, I suppose. I can live with the mess of my people. To a point.

How is The Lost Boys 30 years old? Jesus. How am I that old?


OK, signing off. Fair week+ chaos ensues.

Also, sorry this was a shorter one. I had a stupid 5 hour staff meeting Wednesday.

Don’t hate me if I don’t post next week. It’s the busiest week of the year.


Random Wednesday

I think 6 credits might be a bit much.

Just because I know where it is doesn’t mean I have  any intention of sharing that information with you.

Maybe she doesn’t want me to test knit for her any more.

Well, that was weird.

That’s never happened before. You make a donation through GoFundMe and they fucking charge the donator for it and call it a tip? Screw you, GoFundMe.

I should just switch to boxer briefs.

I think saying “most women” is a dangerous exaggeration.

Yeah, but where you gonna get cloudberries?

Might be fun. Might be weird. I do not know.

This guy sounds like a self righteous, virtue signalling douche, but it’s his company and he can do what he wants. People don’t have to work there. Marion Nestle will be my college’s keynote speaker at our lecture series this fall, coincidentally.

You can’t take my meat from me!

“It is therefore unfair and inaccurate to point a finger at Flint and repeatedly use the word “poisoned.” All it does is terrify the parents and community members here who truly believe there may be a “generation lost” in this city, when there is no scientific evidence to support this conclusion.”

Finally made it through The Staircase. I hate all of those people. And obviously he murdered his wife.

I really should have made those notes in a different notebook. Dammit.

I need to just accept the sad sad fact that I will be stuck in this job until I die. I wonder how many more deans I’ll have to get used to before that happens.

I’m just happy Matt Berninger finally came to his senses about his stupid hair.

I never even finished the last Doctor Who series. I seriously doubt I’ll be tuning in for the chick.

So it’s not plausible to take actual quotes and pair them with stock photos? It happens all the time. It’s called advertising.

Evidently, I have lost readers. And here I thought adding new features would keep people interested.

It is just not really my thing.

Well great. Now I feel like a fat loser instead of just a loser. Yay.

I thought that said “bitch-perfect.” It did not.

No one is ever going to guess a password I used six fucking years ago. Frankly, I’d be shocked and flabbergasted if they guessed a password I used last week. JAYSUS.

They used to call me the Queen of Ektar. Now I am a woman without a realm.

The book was better is true of just about everything except anything written by Stephen King.

Sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo tired.

Who’s call is it then?

Blah blah blah, yeah, we get it.

I don’t like you right now, pal.

Maybe he’s just a serial killer.

I am clearly that kind of grandma.

Yeah, I’ve never been wild.

Do you think they meant to call them sandwinches?

FINALLY. My favorite Triscuits are back in stock!

That is some seriously shady shit.

But bitch-perfect should totally be a thing, right? It’s pretty fantastic.


That Libertarian candidate for governor in the Mitten REALLY should have had someone proof their websites. Good Lord. It’s embarrassing. I think I like the other guy better anyway. Although the other guy’s website is rife with double spaces after periods. Kind of appalling.

Confirm humanity. Ha. Look, checking that box can confirm someone is human, but I’m not sure it can legitimately confirm their humanity.

“Improve and expand surveillance systems.” … Is that really the language we should be using?

This may be my first ever no vote on the library millage.

I really don’t like John Lithgow.

Great. Now it’s stuck in my head.

As soon as I put this Triscuit in my mouth the phone will ring.

See? Told you.

I just want Cuban pulled pork for every meal.


The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck

We can clearly see that I have reached the stage of not giving a fuck about what my hair looks like in this humidity. 

This book is so effective that I don’t even give enough of a fuck to finish it. (Just kidding, it just wasn’t that interesting.)

In other words, I’m not impressed. I mean I picked this book up because I was genuinely looking for a way to care less about shit in my endless pursuit of zennishness. Work shit. Political shit. Work shit. Self righteous virtue signally shit. Work shi- yeah, you know, just a lot of work shit. I thought, “Maybe this is like when Peter is hypnotized in Office Space and he just doesn’t give a fuck any more and somehow becomes wildly successful at work. Cos I need to be Peter.” But yeah, it’s not.

Manson fills all these pages up with gems like “Life is essentially an endless series of problems. The solution to one problem is merely the creation of another,” and “Don’t just sit there. Do something. The answers will follow,” or “In my life, I have given a fuck about many people and many things. I have also not given a fuck about many people and many things. And like the road not taken, it was the fucks not given that made all the difference,” like some drunken frat boy philosophizing at a kegger in the hopes of getting laid.

Kudos to you, Mark Manson, for saying a bunch of crap everyone already knows and has said a million times and capitalizing on it. Credit where it’s due. But I’m gonna have to hop off your bandwagon on this one.

“The desire for more positive experience is itself a negative experience. And, paradoxically, the acceptance of one’s negative experience is itself a positive experience. This is a total mind-fuck. So I’ll give you a minute to unpretzel your brain and maybe read that again …”

Here’s how I’ma “unpretzel” my mind: by throwing this book in the burn pile. I’m not even going to donate this bitch. I’d hate to have any part in perpetuating its circulation.

I’m not even normally the self help type. It’s all so much touchy feely lie back and tell me all about it while we get in touch with our inner child and soothe it to sleep with milk and cookies foolishness, in my view. I don’t really do FEEEEELINGS. So I think it’s safe to say I was at a pretty low point in the course of events that led me to picking this book up. Plus, let’s face it, I’m a sucker for a book that so blatantly flaunts the fuck word. (Though it would have been more daring to drop the ink splat in the title. So much for not giving a fuck.)

Or is this book supposed to be tongue in cheek? Humor? A self help mockery? I honestly don’t know. But I don’t think it is. I think it’s dead fucking serious.

Of course, what do I know? I’m not a best selling author, I just trash their books on my blog. (Which I would feel kind of bad about, but I’ve remembered how to not give a fuck. And a lot of these books really do suck. Also that wasn’t even the point of this series in the first place. I need to get back to books that are actually good, but that I just keep putting down.)

I’ll tell you this though: This book reminded me precisely why I don’t read self help. So, I guess there’s that.

You wanna know how to not give a fuck? Just don’t give a fuck. Also a little Xanax never hurt either.


Random Wednesday

I love Jeff Goldblum as much as the next girl, but I’m not running out and getting him tattooed on my person.

Wow, you really didn’t have anyone proof your CV before you put it out in the world, didja?

the day i die, the day i die

Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s what I’m supposed to be doing …

I tried, but I just couldn’t be so blatant about it.


I’m having a hard time feeling at all excited about this prospect. This is a treacherous sea of venomous sharks.

I read that as “my latest mistakes.”

oh shit

Maybe. But I bet Robert Smith is happier than Morrissey.

Oh no. No thank you. Nope. Hard pass.

I wonder if I could learn to like football. Oh wait. Didn’t I just say you shouldn’t have to “learn” to like shit? Yes. Yes, I did.

It’s probably fungus.

“An assault revolver with high-capacity magazines and a revolver were recovered at the scene.” That sentence makes literally no sense whatsoever.

Yeah, ya know, I’d like very much to care, but I just don’t.

I’m reasonably certain that your writing tip is written grammatically incorrect.

I don’t have an orange.

I can’t explain it. Any other.

Shit. I keep losing track of what day it is. All the time.

I really think I should be designing.

I just. I can’t pull the trigger on that one. I keep attempting to, and I can’t do it.

Is there a “personal” object that says “my heritage is a long line of people who are uncomfortable sharing personal shit with coworkers because it’s nobody’s business and if you press me on this I will cut you?”

The surest way to make me want to separate even more from the TEAM.

I mean Jesus. Why do people think that shit is a good idea?

I feel like my entire vocabulary is comprised of the fuck word today. Including punctuation.

just kidding

Is it time for lunch yet? I really need to GTFOH.

I need a t shirt that says GTFOH.

Now I have Aimee Mann stuck in my head.

Yeah, that Queen movie actually looks like it might be pretty good.

Maybe if it were mine I’d feel differently. But it isn’t. And I don’t.

We’re still not past this bacon trend? Where we put bacon on all the things? That’s unfortunate.

I haven’t had a donut in ages. A.G.E.S.


Yeah, no. That is literally not my job.

Neither hide nor hair.

I just do not understand those people.

Yeah, OK. Let’s just shut the door on this then.

Where is my lens cloth?

That’s better. Ish


Random Wednesday

Actually. I’d prefer it if you didn’t vote. Just stay home. You’ve caused enough damage.

I mean. Don’t you think?

I’m on a shutter drag kick. You know how I love my long exposures.

Is there something wrong with your typing fingers that is keeping you from responding to my email?

I don’t need your stupid rules.

Stop “forcing bots” to watch things. This is how we get Skynet.

Dear in the lord. That’s a new spam header.

I still love you, only slightly only slightly less, than I used to.

How did those kids get in that cave in the first place?

A stay at home bee mom. OK.

I’m absolutely positive I am not the right person for that job.

Well. That was the most unpopular three women shot in a while. Bummer.

I’m not even leaving for a month and I already have travel anxiety and packing anxiety. WTF. This is not how I pictured getting older.

about today

I don’t think you really understand what that word means.

I want to do a swap box. I love swap boxes. I’d do fiber share, but those ladies spend way more money than I can afford on a swap.

Can’t see half the world all of the time. Doesn’t matter what kind of corrective lenses I’m wearing. Lately it’s getting very frustrating.

I don’t think it was necessary to do an Eventbrite deal for the meeting. It’s a little over the top. And the constant emails I now get from Eventbrite are not my favorite thing either.

I hope this doesn’t turn into some type of Sam and Diane thing. That would be annoying.

Why yes. I would like to be less wrong.

Why does she have two knitting needles jabbed through a crocheted afghan acting like she’s accomplishing something?

This is not how I pictured

I can promise you that I will never vote for anyone who has been endorsed by Jennifer Granholm.

I need a good granny square poncho. Pretty much the one J-Lo wore in The Cell. And I can’t find a single gorram picture of it.


OMG I found part of it. I just can’t see the bottom. I don’t remember if it has fringe. It probably has fringe. I even love those colors.

Dammit. I’m gonna have to figure out how to crochet now. Can’t someone just make it for me?

Oh good. A two hour meeting. Yay.

This place is just bound and determined to go down in flames.

I somehow read that as “off to buy a planet.”

I don’t know. I think if you have to “learn” to love something, I’m not sure it’s the right thing for you.

Wow. 100% forgot that it is Wednesday and that I am working on this post.

Really. The ONLY donation we’ve received for this project was from me. Wow.

That is among the funnier things I’ve seen this week.

This migraine is just not going to let go. Fuck. Me.

A fake war. A fake romance. Sort of all the same thing in a sense.

I don’t know why I’m bothering. But I’m bothering. They’re just going to say no. For reasons that I will not understand.


Random Wednesday

I can’t help it if I don’t fit in with you.

The world has no shortage of assholes.

Also this lipstick lasts a long time. AND I feel like I need less lip balm while I’m wearing it. I think I’m hooked.

What’s a fancy way of saying “give us money”?

Ah ha. That would be why I can’t do this.

Damn. Mike Rowe’s losing all that weight, getting all super sexy again. Sheesh.

Oh dear Lord.

There’s no way they’ll let me in. I’m not their kind of academic.

Even if I have been described as brilliant by at least one PhD, who doesn’t even particularly like me.

Ugh. Yes, but I’m stopping for a chai. Which won’t help me cool off at all. But so delicious.

I can’t deal with this “real feel” 100 bloody degrees foolishness. I can’t.

An ad for “pee proof” underwear just came up in my IG feed. Jesus. I’m not that old. I can still technically have babies, for Christ’s sake.

I hate Facebook a little bit more every day.

I do find it endlessly amusing that all the people who bitched so loudly about ALL THE POLITICS are posting nothing but politics these days. People are fascinating.

I know it’s not what Sartre meant, but that doesn’t make it any less true.

Isn’t art what we make of it?

73% humidity. I feel like I’m swimming.

I won’t apologize for it.

I can’t help it if I find John Roberts oddly attractive.

I need to stop being so hard on myself.

Sorry, I was so busy laughing at the absurdity of ever actually being able to follow through on that statement that I lost track of everything.

I have very little random today. I don’t know what’s going on.

They can’t all be winners.

Never thought I’d be choosing fireplace doors as a job activity …

It smells really weird in here today. Like old rotting onions and chicken bedding that needs to be changed, only not quite as pungent.

I need this shirt. Because it’s true.

Wow. OK. I get the message. Thanks. Thanks so much.

I guess it doesn’t matter. Fuck it.

I know. I talked to him first.

I’m not at all comfortable today.

I do really like that song. I wish it was on Spotify so I could add it to this playlist.

I should get those Americana All Stars. It’s like Converse made them just for me.

Yes, I am incredibly competent. I know it’s a shock.

I like tiny Twixes.

This is the Mondayest Thursday ever.

I don’t know. I give up. Let’s all drive to Florida.

This podcast about the Boston Stranglers is pretty good. Very well done.

Your badge is no good here.

I started writing that letter something like a month ago.

I don’t know why this roll of garbage bags is sitting here.



I’m much better at convincing others than myself, I suppose.




Random Wednesday

Does it involve Lorence Wenke? Because if it involves Lorence Wenke, my answer is no.

I most definitely do not get that joke.

I’m not sure I’d call that “new.”

Peter Fonda’s not sorry at all. Also he looks like a pedophile.

Everyone had completely forgotten you existed until you made a public ass out of yourself, dude.

I don’t know what you call this mood, but I don’t like it at all.

Maybe it’s not really a mood. More a frame of mind.

I just accidentally deleted an email draft full of kind of super important shit in Gmail and now it’s gone forever and I think I may vomit.

Maybe if I start listening to audio books on my way home from work every day I’ll stop thinking so much.

I can’t help it if after knowing me for this long you still don’t get my humor. At some point that’s on you, not me.

I’m sorry I’m not a better human.

It’s because boobs.

I could never do video tutorials. I can’t make my neck move like that.

Maybe I should start wearing lipstick again.

well, succulents are very popular right now.

I don’t think I had the same relationship with Mr. Rogers as the rest of you seem to have had.

Ugh. No more potato chips for me. Bleah.

Yeah, at some point I just stop listening to you, to be honest.

Fuck off, Jamie.

Great. Now I have Sisters of Mercy stuck in my head.

I think the trick might be to get it out of the way early.

The problem with research is settling on a place to start and deciding which direction to go from there.


This made me el oh el.

I wish I were going somewhere instead of just staying home again.

I’m completely off my game today.

Not sure about it.

I don’t know what I expect from these things any more. But I always come away disappointed.

I don’t even need to take notes.


The Trespasser

Once again, I have only the Kindle version, so I printed the cover for your entertainment purposes.

Let me preface this by the usual – there are possible spoilerish statements in what follows. Read on at your own peril!

Let me also preface this by expressing my love for Tana French. I really, truly, love Tana French. I love how each of her installments progresses organically from the last without being a technical sequel. I love that they’re gritty without being cliche. I love that they’re set in Dublin and the surrounding area – a stop on my someday maybe list. I love that her characters are all deeply flawed human beings but flawed in entirely believable and realistic ways.

I do not love this book.

I really, really do not love this book. I did not love this protagonist when she was introduced in the last book. I love her even less now that she’s the main character. She is entirely cliche. I’m something like just under halfway through the book and I swear to God, I’m having chest pains from holding my breath waiting for the massive chip on her shoulder to tip her down a flight of stairs.

Why do so many writers fall into the trap of “If I’m going to portray a strong female lead she has to be a ball busting bad ass with no room for any kind of softness because soft = weak and GOD FORBID A WOMAN SHOULD EVER APPEAR WEAK” even though softness does not at all imply weakness and why is it OK to portray men as soft but not women and also, why do we have to hate on men and emasculate them at all?

What I’m saying, in all my run-on glory, is that French has suddenly fallen into that (to me) tired ass trope of you can only depict women two ways – (1) I will kick your ass and maybe share some steamy sex with you, but I will not be NICE because NICE IS WEAK; or (2) I’m a weak pathetic milquetoast who needs either a good strong man to lift me up or a (see no. 1) STRONG female to show me the light and the error of my weak pathetic ways.

Plus. Also. Backstory of some sort of trauma involving a man – daddy left. Fiance died tragically. Blah blah boring ass blah.


I just don’t remember French being so obvious about it in the past. I mean every book comes with its share of tropes and cliches and what have yous. That’s pretty standard everywhere. But it’s like she got to The Trespasser and just suddenly didn’t give a fuck any more.

And the story line itself. I feel like the first 40something% because page numbers are not reliable in e-versions which is kind of annoying was just a giant red herring waste of time. And yet another massive cliche in itself. And I’m honestly questioning if I even have the energy to plow through the rest of this thing.

I mean I probably will. If for no other reason than to find out which character will be featuring in her next Dublin Murder Squad installment, which, if there is a God and He is in His Heaven, will be back up to the standard I’ve come to expect from someone who is normally a really frigging outstanding novelist.

I guess there is one thing I love about this book. The cover. That’s a great cover. But I still haven’t even figured out what the hell the title means. Did I mention I’m almost halfway through the book? Usually a girl can discern the meaning of a title by now. But also? Why is French’s name bigger than the book title? That just seems like “Hey, we already know this is not Tana’s best work, so buy it because it’s a Tana French and let’s just not get into the rest of it, mmmkay?”

Have you read it? Tell me I’m not wrong. Tell me it’s as bad as I think it is. And then tell me the next book will be better. Sooooooo much better. Because if it’s not, I really think Tana and I just need to start seeing other people.


Random Wednesday

“Don’t vote for the person who tells you you deserve something. Just don’t do it if it’s something other than life, liberty, or the pursuit of possible happiness. If everyone is telling you you deserve something, vote for the one who is promising you the least. Be suspicious of the man or woman who tells you you deserve everything. Because you don’t.” ~ Mike Rowe

Maybe it’s something else.

I’m just not sure I can do this anymore.

“Libs are always hating on Chick-fil-A, but Chick-fil-A has never arrested a black man for not buying a sandwich.”

I don’t think anyone’s reading it anyway.

She just seems to be deeply out of touch with how “regular” people live. I mean she might as well be Gwyneth Paltrow.


Why is that being treated as a complaint?? That’s fucking stupid.

I need some speakers.

Sorry. Right back to where I was before. I just don’t feel like I belong and you’re doing nothing to change that with your actions and no amount of telling myself I do belong is making that true…

This just in: jentober is not actually heartless.

I can’t make people follow directions. I can’t make people follow directions. I can’t make people follow directions. I can’t make people follow directions. I can’t make people follow directions. I can’t make people follow directions. I can’t make people follow directions. I can’t make people follow directions. I can’t make people follow directions. I can’t make people follow directions. I can’t make people follow directions. I can’t make people follow directions. I can’t make people follow directions. I can’t make people follow directions. I can’t make people follow directions. I can’t make people follow directions. I can’t make people follow directions. I can’t make people follow directions.

Ooooh these are pretty! I’d obviously keep them up year round.

Let me just tell you how sick I am of hearing about the fucking roads, shall I?

Too many Goddamn cooks. Send your own fucking emails. I’ve had it with this whole endeavor.

I need some kind of attitude adjustment. Send help.

It’s all fades and brioche, fades and brioche, fades and brioche, all the time. M.E.H. No thanks.

Also I can’t wear mohair, so let’s nip that rising trend in the bud, shall we?

No, really. I need help please.

Stop sending me emails telling me to stop sending you my photos that I am not sending you. Spammy McJerkface.

“When I saw the budget they were offering, I said, ‘Fuck this.’” Yeah, that’s how I feel about a lot of shit too, David Lynch.

But seriously, how did I get on Vulture’s mailing list?

No one told me The Posies were going to be at Bell’s tomorrow.

No one tells me anything.

everything is everything

“How are you??” “I’m on Xanax.”

Wow, I was just starting to get into it and then WHAM – a dig at homeschoolers AND Ayn Rand in the space of five minutes. Sad.

Just maybe think that blue lipstick through a little more thoroughly. That’s all I’m saying.

There is absolutely no legitimate reason that this should be taking this long. None.

I wish I had a cookie.

The problem with having a protein shake for lunch is that now I’m freezing my ass off.

Are you serious? Because that is literally what I asked you to do two months ago. WTF does your office even exist for?

I’m not sure I’m loving this new phone. I definitely do not love that the rear facing camera flips the image. My old phone did not flip the image and I loved that.

Is anyone enjoying my book series?

Dammit. Forgot to bring that other blue with me.

All this standing is not working for me today.

This is the grumpiest Random in a while. Damn.

Oh good. It’s the “walk back and forth and in and out of the office in flip flops” portion of the day. I was so afraid I’d missed it.

This is fascinating.

People are being whispery and bitchy and weird again. I hate it when that starts cycling up. Makes for very unpleasant vibes.

Here’s a cool thing you could do: Donate to my cause of bringing Gaiman to campus.

Huh. If I’m going to be the only one left in the office for the rest of the day, it might have been helpful of people to LET ME KNOW.

I give up.

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