A life? Don't mind if I do!
Interesting day, then; we carved the pumpkin; a cat design, which I figured Cynra would enjoy, and the smaller pumpkins we have in the front yard. We then did some yardwork, raking leaves and collecting apples. The leaves were easy, since I mowed the lawn (for the last time this year, I hope, unless that means nice weather until December, which I can also live with) and the mulcher went to work on them. I adore having a mulching lawnmower, if only because that means no raking. God, yes. I'm lazy, but it's good for the world. So everybody wins!
Unfortunately, our composter is too full to handle the apples, so they're currently sitting outside in some rubbermaid containers. We gotta figure out if we can put them in a yard waste bag, or possibly just get another composter.
Candy is mostly ready; we need to get some bowls, a place to put 'em and some lights to put in the pumpkins (a candle will do for the main one, but we'll get some electrics for the little ones as open flames on leaves is NOT what I wanna do).
Out of curiosity, I took that 'rate your life' test that I've seen going around. Got a good score, but ditched it. Because, really, who the fuck needs something called "monkeyquiz" to grade your life? I mean, any test that says I've got good financial control of my life is just way off the fucking mark. I'd hate to be someone with depressive tendancies taking something like that, to see some cheezy 20 question test teling me I have a bad life.
Fuck that. I don't have the time or energy to waste on that shit. Yeah, it can get better. It can be worse. Every person on the planet gets like that, motherfucker. Every single living soul has their lovely doubts and fears riding themselves like an angry jewish mother crack monkey.
You want me to take some shitty internet quiz, don't act like 20 true or false questions are gonna put you in a position to judge ANYTHING. If you don't wanna tell me which member of the Watchmen I am (Silk Spectre II, if you were wondering), fuck off and leave it be.
I should get another pumpkin to use to make a Jack-O-Layton.
Unfortunately, our composter is too full to handle the apples, so they're currently sitting outside in some rubbermaid containers. We gotta figure out if we can put them in a yard waste bag, or possibly just get another composter.
Candy is mostly ready; we need to get some bowls, a place to put 'em and some lights to put in the pumpkins (a candle will do for the main one, but we'll get some electrics for the little ones as open flames on leaves is NOT what I wanna do).
Out of curiosity, I took that 'rate your life' test that I've seen going around. Got a good score, but ditched it. Because, really, who the fuck needs something called "monkeyquiz" to grade your life? I mean, any test that says I've got good financial control of my life is just way off the fucking mark. I'd hate to be someone with depressive tendancies taking something like that, to see some cheezy 20 question test teling me I have a bad life.
Fuck that. I don't have the time or energy to waste on that shit. Yeah, it can get better. It can be worse. Every person on the planet gets like that, motherfucker. Every single living soul has their lovely doubts and fears riding themselves like an angry jewish mother crack monkey.
You want me to take some shitty internet quiz, don't act like 20 true or false questions are gonna put you in a position to judge ANYTHING. If you don't wanna tell me which member of the Watchmen I am (Silk Spectre II, if you were wondering), fuck off and leave it be.
I should get another pumpkin to use to make a Jack-O-Layton.