This is what I get for being kind to spiders.
Oh, look. ANOTHER shitty, wasted day. And yes, all the evil in the world can be boiled down the wastefulness of one sort or another.
Also, these stupid fucking kids and their stupid fucking TikTok challenges, can you please just go back to rebelling against your parents and society and whatever else you feel so keen a need to rebel against by smoking and drinking and cutting class? Because, honestly, you're acting like a bunch of idiots (and I'm sure some of you are not acting, but...). Fuck the "influencers."
Yes. This is my mood. I am sick of the rash, and I'd post photos so you'd understand how gross and uncomfortable it is. But I won't. Because it really is gross and, anyway, some dip-shit kid would decide that contact dermatitis is cool or dope or sick or GOAT* and then fifty more would, and then a thousand more, and so on.
That edge in my voice, it's called spite.
Anyway...
Yes, that felt good.
No, no work today. Neither fiction writing nor the business of fiction writing nor even paleontology. Nothing. See what I said above about waste. I missed the chance to see a special staff-only screening of Dune in the McWane IMax, which is actually more horrible than how the rash has made me feel. But I would have been uncomfortable the whole time (pants, remember?), so what would have been the point. No, that sentence should not end with a question mark. I did begin reading The Missing Lynx: The Past and Future of Britain's Lost Mammals by Ross Barnet, a paleontologist who specializes in felid DNA. I watched the Directors Cut of Alex Proyas' Dark City (1998). I itched.
Leftover Chinese for dinner. What I said about waste applies.
Gloomy, overcast first half of the day. Then sun. Our high was 76˚F.
Want a Monster Doodle sticker (see photo below)? They're really GOAT* and only $2.50/ea. Only $1.25/ea. if you buy ten (and you can mix and match designs to get ten). Plus, don't forget eBay. Thank you.
Later,
Aunt Beast
4:33 p.m.
* "Greatest of all Time." I did not make that up.
Also, these stupid fucking kids and their stupid fucking TikTok challenges, can you please just go back to rebelling against your parents and society and whatever else you feel so keen a need to rebel against by smoking and drinking and cutting class? Because, honestly, you're acting like a bunch of idiots (and I'm sure some of you are not acting, but...). Fuck the "influencers."
Yes. This is my mood. I am sick of the rash, and I'd post photos so you'd understand how gross and uncomfortable it is. But I won't. Because it really is gross and, anyway, some dip-shit kid would decide that contact dermatitis is cool or dope or sick or GOAT* and then fifty more would, and then a thousand more, and so on.
That edge in my voice, it's called spite.
Anyway...
Yes, that felt good.
No, no work today. Neither fiction writing nor the business of fiction writing nor even paleontology. Nothing. See what I said above about waste. I missed the chance to see a special staff-only screening of Dune in the McWane IMax, which is actually more horrible than how the rash has made me feel. But I would have been uncomfortable the whole time (pants, remember?), so what would have been the point. No, that sentence should not end with a question mark. I did begin reading The Missing Lynx: The Past and Future of Britain's Lost Mammals by Ross Barnet, a paleontologist who specializes in felid DNA. I watched the Directors Cut of Alex Proyas' Dark City (1998). I itched.
Leftover Chinese for dinner. What I said about waste applies.
Gloomy, overcast first half of the day. Then sun. Our high was 76˚F.
Want a Monster Doodle sticker (see photo below)? They're really GOAT* and only $2.50/ea. Only $1.25/ea. if you buy ten (and you can mix and match designs to get ten). Plus, don't forget eBay. Thank you.
Later,
Aunt Beast
4:33 p.m.
* "Greatest of all Time." I did not make that up.