I doubt I'll ever see myself as not being ugly. I've felt ugly for decades. But I'm giving myself a shot regardless, because ugly beats dead.

Yeah, this week can fuck right off.

The veil between this world and the next has been pierced. We apologize for the inconvenience.

Most awkward moment of the weekend was explaining to my mother what a set of fuzzy handcuffs hanging from a car rear view mirror in a car wash ad reading "we clean all kinds of dirty cars" meant.

Using such a peat-forward whisky for a whisky mac may not be following the spirit of the recipe, but if smoke and ginger is wrong I don't want to be right.

Say what you will about the quality of his various games, but Sonic has never been this cool.

Elitingday ignalsay ownay hattay Iay nowkay itsay ompromisedcay. Ouyay nowkay owhay otay each eachray emay.

Spent a lovely long weekend with my sister and her husband fixing things around the house, making delicious food, and watching women's biathlon. (In this house we just call it "biathlon," she explained)

Caught a local grabbing a quick bite on the way to work today.

My brain feels like a sack of angry cats tonight.

Someday I hope my life won't feel like I'm running out of runway and frantically throwing excess weight out the door.

Oh why not?

Oh why not?

Post a car pic you took. This one's fresh from yesterday. Some people need to take better care of their toys.

The world has failed to collapse and I don't trust it.

Fuck it. Let's go.

As we head into the long weekend, beware of anyone discussing nonviolent resistance in such a way that they don't address the fact that the operative word is "resistance."

Never thought I'd see General Winter deploying his divisions in America. But I also never thought I'd see an occupying force in America cities.

I somehow doubt that "think she was innocent? The woman we killed was a *member of her PTA*!" will land the way they want it to. What's next? Did she bake delicious cookies? Grow flowers in her garden?

The day after the amazing final strip of Calvin & Hobbes ran in my local paper something new took it's place on the Monday comics page. Something called Dilbert. That Adams is dead and Watterson still lives feels like a great cosmic injustice has been corrected.

this still slaps youtu.be/ZQ_MEFVx5jM?...

The West River. No, I won't say which one.

I love building tiny versions of things! Scale modeling, wargaming, Lego, that sort of thing. I haven't typically gone out of my way to post some of that in the past, but maybe I should. I'm also a history buff, though that feels a bit close to politics at the moment to feel comfortable indulging.

Stepped off the curb to board a bus, stepped on uneven ground, fell and broke my leg in three places.

Then would have been Pokémon Silver. Now would be like 4 or 5 games from the attract image alone and a desire to trade the AAA game industry of 2026-2030 for another taste of 1999.

Began listing some Warhammer stuff for sale to contribute to a dear friend's surgery fund. Like two items right now, but it's something I can do.

When you tragically realize in the shower that the brilliant solution that came to you yesterday in the shower won't work.

2025 was a challenge, more than the years immediately before. 2026 seems likely to be more of the same. I am assailed by doubt and fear, and find myself wondering if I'm up to the challenges placed in my path. But I'm damn well going to try.

Even in these days of 3-D printed excess availability of some things is really limited. All I'm looking for is western European civilians from between 1900 and 1910 in 1/72 scale! Bonus points if there's a carriage or an early car.

You could get by with just the Charlie Brown Christmas soundtrack for holiday listening if you needed to.

I keep seeing everyone doing awesome Lego stuff but they haven't released anything that really does it for me in a while. Oh well.

Started a year-end cleaning of my workbench. First step: discovering the box of doom that was the result of LAST year's year-end cleaning of the workbench and reacquainting myself with the contents.

And with the lighting of the glögg, the festivities kick into gear. A merry Christmas to you and yours. May it be warm and glowing and beautiful.

Spending the longest night with a take & bake pizza and the Savoy cocktail book.

Hidden within the gift of poetry is the secret curse of being compelled to write it.

If I close my eyes I can practically SEE the status lights blinking red. Angry tendons, angry bones, a stiff knee, a locked up muscle in my back.

Finished the last of my gift shopping as the sun set behind the city tonight.

Caught Hedda Gabbler after work and revelling in the fact that old plays can still be so vital.

You either die a hero or live to record a bad Christmas album with a handful of celebrity "guests" who couldn't escape the lobby quickly enough.

No thank you, walk in clinic I went to once, I will not allow you to send a monitoring device into my home.

The dark of the year is always hard for me, and this year is not going to be the exception I'd hoped. Feeling low and tired.

One last person to decide on a gift for and it's the most normal of the lot. Always the hardest.

I dream of waking up without my fists balled so tightly they lose sensation.

So remember when I said I was trying to build every 1/72 scale model of the P-40 I could get my hands on?

If you see this, I IMPLORE you to post a picture from whatever device you’re using without explanation

God I love the theater.

Here's a resolution for next year: let Miyazaki strafe data centers in an exquisitely maintained Italian biplane.

Multiplayer. Yeah, I said it.

Surf Nazis Must Die (1987) This should have been b-movie gold. An elderly woman conducts a nocturnal war against the Nazi surfers who killed her son in the ruins of post-Big One California? How do you make that boring? And yet. Complete and total snoozefest.

"Love likes a gander and adores a goose"