I’m re-watching Chuck for the eleventy seventh time and I just noticed in the first episode that Sarah put that ankle sheath full of knives on and then added knee high boots. How the hell is she supposed to access those knives wearing those boots? Then she pulls a knife out of her boot. Suddenly that sheath isn’t under her pant leg anymore?? Bad editing, people.

I love you, John Casey.

I wish I were the kind of person who could afford to pay $44 for 177 yards of yarn. Jesus.

This shit is why the U.S.

I could go my whole life without ever hearing another Doors, Pearl Jam, Red Hot Chili Peppers or Stone Temple Pilots song again and be a perfectly contented woman.

Too many distractions.

People are assholes just to be assholes and I’m so goddamn tired of it.

This story made me cry.

Still not gonna smoke pot.

And this made me laugh.

What kind of foolishness is this?

“Do your feet kill in heels?” Here’s an idea – stop wearing heels.

Why though?

Um. OK jackass.

This is why I don’t participate. Someone asks a question. I answer it. They say “it was rhetorical.” I’m sorry. HTF am I supposed to know in that context ONLINE that  your question was bloody rhetorical?

I REALLY need to find a way to become a full on genuine hermit.

Well. That’s not the decision I expected at all. I suppose it could be much worse.

Where am I gonna get cloudberries around here??

People make me tired. This is adorable.

This is pretty great, actually.

But why doesn’t anyone want me?

I don’t know what that even means.

That’s kind of funny.

I need to work on resigning myself to my fate.  My horrible, terrible, excruciating, tenth circle of hell, no escape, fate.

My entire skull hurts right now.

Dammit! I thought that module opened today. It doesn’t open til tomorrow. Curses!

Today has been unexpectedly nutty.


I, once again, forgot I was working on this post and that it was Wednesday. Jaysus.

You know what? I really like KitKats.

Read this.

I love you, John Casey.

You already said that, Jennifer.


I fee like


I want a Pixel whatever number it’s on now.

Forget it. I give up.

Can’t even get a bloody interview.

“It’s funny how they say ‘permanent address’ but you can move!”




My brain hurts a lot.