that’s how you advertise

Image

Give the people useful info!

Slept most of the day yesterday, still managed to do a load of laundry and sleep a full night just now…

more from England, in this case from @JonnElledge, for pOp

Image

Image

 

donated to the Potlatch Fund today.

I want a proper breakfast and I already ate one. GREEDY GUTS

remember went pOp didn’t hear the woman trying to plead guilty when the cop didn’t show?  This university professor SHOWS THE SAME ENERGY

Image

 

There’s a time and a place for everything

But as long as I have family to talk to I don’t have to put ALLLL my bs here.

Keith said SO IN THIS FASCIST RERUN SCENARIO are we Poland or Czechoslovakia and sayeth me “You Know We’re Poland. We’re going to get ground between two superpowers, China and the US, with Russia picking at scraps, and there’s not much we can do about it”. and “Well, we’re not going to be ALLOWED to be Switzerland.”

I’m so angry at the typos in the fic I’m reading on AO3 right now even though it’s a charming slow burn fic I’m shutting it down.

Image

fuck the police in Akkadian, thanks to @antthegay on twitter

technically it’s may the policemen be destroyed but who’s quibbling

Laughed my ass off at this next one:

r/vancouver - give this badass his space please

Text on a sticker on a dogshit brown Chevy Van (perfection!) BACK OFF I’m from Surrey. stolen from reddit

As an aside, the first joke I ever heard about the Vancouver area was about Surrey. “What’s the difference between Surrey and a bus shelter?” “If you really had to, you could live in a bus shelter.” Yes, I am aware this joke has racist, classist, and ‘wrong side of the bridge’-ist implications.

later again

Tom’s in hospital. He’s on his cell phone though, so it’s not like he’s incommunicado or currently dying. Glad I called Peggy and learned these tidings, which I communicated to the Keith for their household.

 

word count on fic 15466

graphic shows sonic the hedgehog’s two eyes gradually growing together to form a single huge eyeball

 

current mood

Image

shown is a lightly smirking woman, having won a beaver handling contest I’D FUCKING SMIRK TOO not that I’d ever have her simply incandescent skill set.Image

@zhaabowekwe posted this, saying that she’s still badass and one of the most fluent Anishinaabemowin speakers

trying….

Something for the parents

fic 13,205 FINALLY managed to get through the scene at work. I think it will play most amusingly. Just imagine a guy getting his face teased off by two co-workers, that shouldn’t be too hard.

Trying something different with respect to a daily routine. Even half-assing it yesterday I was more productive that I normally am and scheduled a whole bunch of much needed self-care. All in all I am very pleased.

Made a small luncheon salad – chopped cooked chicken breast, lettuce, onion and olive.

Buster trained well yesterday.

Wanted to go walking with Paul today, but it will be a mall walk, if anything; the heat and the particulates make walking outside a mug’s game. So I emailed him and expect to hear from him midmorning.

I backed up my hard drive this week; Jeff thinks I should be scheduling it more like once a month than three times a year, and he’s right.

Spoke to Peggy on the phone yesterday. She was putting up pears and applesauce when I called; how very Peggy. We had a delightful chat although she definitely is not enjoying this phase of the pandemic, having school aged and toddler grandchildren.

Drone footage of San Francisco, with all the orange wildfires, is…. jeez am I wearing out ‘apocalyptic’ yet?

There aren’t enough public washrooms in Burnaby.

I’m out of bocconcini pearls and it’s making me crabby. SALT FREE CHEESE! ya-harri-hoy!!

They’ve torn down the last of the sets for Supernatural and Baby rides for the last time today.  Sigh. End of the show is coming.

Just told someone on AO3 not to give drunk people ibuprofen even in fanfic. I M BITCH, HEAR ME HOWL

Anarchist circus cat training routine

There isn’t one. Training happens when Jeff is not in the kitchen (Buster’s operable intelligence plummets when the Man with the Can shows up) and Buster and I are. Paul has trained with Buster twice, and the second time you couldn’t get the shit eating grin off his face with a cold chisel, as Buster was particularly aerobatic in absconding with his treat.

Normally training starts sometime between 4:30 and 7:00 am, any day, with him doing a half-wind around my leg, usually my right leg, and he mews. Something soft and undemanding, just letting me know that he’s there.

Then he paces off to the end of one of the carpets mOm made for Jeff’s old place in Victoria, turns, sits, and stares at me. I fetch, or have already gotten, a few treats from the treat bag (Temptations Tasty Chicken Cat Treats… he has not liked other kinds so far but his loss was cheerfully consumed by crows and trash pandas) and I hold one in my hand above his head, anywhere from 20 to 70 cm over him, where it is visible between my fingers.

I never, ever fake having a treat.

One of the things I read about training cats is that while there are cats who will work for praise alone, that is not the way to bet during training. Not only should you give a treat for ever trick essayed, you should reward the cat for (for example) being cute, or reissue a treat when the one you threw (horror) flew under the dishwasher (which was how I learned that Buster has got a solid claw into the thigh of the concept of object permanence, the cognitive fundamental upon which non-computational style thinking depends). Whenever the cat is being attentive and pliable in its behaviour, that is when to push, and you have to push especially hard when the cat briefly wakes up and starts training you.

Buster started napping in a kitchen chair. I’d hold a treat over his head and he’d wake up and jump for it. Within days he was jumping into the chair during the training sessions and the reason he liked doing that is because it livened things up; if he dropped it, as he infrequently does, it can careen off in pretty much any direction, which means he must engage his ears and reflexes and ability to dodge shoes and furniture to be able to pinpoint it before it quits moving.

I am moving some of the aspects of training into words and gesture.  I gesture with both hands to say ‘all done’ when I think the useful training’s done (otherwise he just hoses you down for cat treats). Also I say ‘good boy’ anytime he is behaving, performatively or not, in a way I find pleasing or cooperative or appropriate. So he can misinterpret what he needs to pay attention to, but he knows he’s fine. I believe I am very close to having him understand ‘up’ and ‘down’ as long as there is a treat in the context, and I also believe that it will be a while before I can get him to understand it without a treat in my hand.

Buster is never forced to train. If he feels lazy for days at a time and just lies on the kitchen floor and allows me to pelt him (I can ding him quite hard, but I never aim for his head) with cat treats until he gets up and dances all around like he hails from Kansas City, that’s okay; and if he then gobbles down on each of the cat treats as it reluctantly releases itself from his lavish, explosively soft and furry pelt, that’s okay too. Buster has a lot of prance and self-respect, and he does like showing off how very much his paws are like hands and fingers – he’s continually coming up with eye popping variants on the ‘basic two-paw clap catch’.

These brief retreats into a philosophical megrim of feline life – perhaps the grandson has been here twice in two days, perhaps the construction noise is getting to him, perhaps the fleas are driving him into a state – are to be expected. Buster is studious and consistent, but he is neither a machine nor a true performer, inured to crowds. This is why I am very slowly cleaning my kitchen. Soon, the performances shall begin, and Buster will be the master of the kitchen circus with a video camera to commemorate him. I have no idea what tricks he will perform. All I know is that I’ve been hiding from the world his clever, precise mastery of hacky-sacking cat treats off his wrists, and he’s only going to get cleverer still, because what Buster does is challenge himself. I have provided parameters within which he can demonstrate skill, and he’s the one that brings it, at this point I’m pretty much dispensing cat treats and fangirling while he does ever more improbable and amusing things.

nothing but funny pics and weird news

Image

scanged from @luckyma_man

There is an EXPLOSION THEMED PARK in FINLAND …. every time I think I can’t love Finland more, look what they do. For more details look it up on youtube.

Image

“FENCING: The Perfect COVID Sport” *Masks *Gloves *If anybody gets closer than 6′ of you, you stab them @NeilLowenthal1

Image

I laughed. @sjvn

Whoever made a gator chase a laser pointer, thank you.

This isn’t funny, but it points out how hard it is to infiltrate anarchists when you’re mostly going to be commuting and making coffee for office workers

Image

 

people can’t read

added later:

 

Image

 

So there’s signage at Deer Lake Park equivalent to ‘walk this way’ and no, not like Aerosmith, but nobody seems able to read it. Paul and I went for a walk, saw frogs, got halibut and chips and fed ourselves and Jeff lunch.

Today I’m hoping to mount a small shopping expedition.

Advice from @Maria_Tureaud on twitter for a pitch session:

To write a Twitter pitch: 1. Who is your MC? 2. What is their normal? 3. But when X happens, MC faces *stakes so dire* 4. And then MC will/might lose Y/Z

  1. George
  2. Hiding
  3. Not hiding… the world practically blows up
  4. and then he might lose his kids

eh, doesn’t really work for me

 

10,676 words

Cartoons

Image

Inkyrickshaw.com

Image

Credit @nobonzo on twitter

also this

Image

also the above noted. I’m following her on instagram now, she has some AMAZING tshirts on Etsy.

Ordered Indian food last night. I shouldn’t have but I love butter chicken.

Pet shaming: the public internet practice of hanging a hand lettered sign over your pet’s neck detailing the dreffle thing they did and posting it. Demon shaming (artist unknown)

Image

Image

an anonymous wikipedia edit

Someone really useful on twitter just blocked me because I ‘sexualized their feed’ well THEY WERE THE ONE TALKING ABOUT SLOPPING DOWN FORTY GALLONS OF HUMMUS lands’ sakes. That has nothing to do with this:

Image

Wikipedia editor MN070 is responsible for this gem, which has probably already been edited back out, but isn’t it a sweetie?  someone with a lot of neck in Irish slang is a chancer, someone with a lot of nerve, who takes liberties….

My strongest weapon, my weakest link

That would be my mind, although Jeff might argue that it’s really my farts.

Image

2020 really is something.

Stopped watching Hannibal, it turned out that even if it was network tv it’s giving me the collywobbles.

Walk and lunch with Paul yesterday was most pleasant. Weather continues particularly fine. The Usual Domestic Tasks like laundry and dishes continue….

533 words of fanfic.

The hammered guitar song is responsible for me toasting one set of strings, lol – the bronze wrapping is coming off and making the string buzz