Me: What's a 'kobold'? Him: It's a bold with the arrows reversed.

I once knew a guy who had an avocado on a string hanging from his apartment ceiling. I said, "Why is there an avocado hanging from your ceiling?" He looked at me like I was stupid, said "It's the Avocado of Damocles," and went right back to the previous conversation topic.

Is there a way to get a list of advertisers on my local Nexstar-owned TV station without having to watch their shitty broadcasts?

At this rate, they're going to try to burn the mothers of autistic children at the stake by Christmas.

My autistic friends are AWESOME. Somebody's defective all right, but it's not you. Hell, I'm still pissed because Stardew Valley won't let me give Clint a bouquet.

I'm exhausted from the compose-edit-delete cycle.

When I was a kid, I rode my bike to the library (9.6 miles each way), checked out as many books as I could carry, and rode home with the books in my saddle baskets. We got three TV channels if the wind wasn’t blowing too hard. So yeah I can cancel ALL the streaming services.

Bluesky’s Discover feed is hot garbage. Every time I post about a meal with a wine pairing, my Discover feed gets filled with posts aimed at alcoholics.

The neighbors who were blasting loud shitty music have a For Sale sign in front of their house. So add that to the list of things I’m not sad about.

I do not have faith or hope or any other magical bullshit beliefs but I am gonna find one goddamn sand dollar and toss it gently back into the sea and I urge you to do the same.

I was an eldest child, an academic high achiever, a teacher’s pet, a rule follower. When I finally broke, I broke like tempered glass.

I swear every time someone says ‘Don’t do x, it will just give them an excuse to do y’ all I can hear is ‘If I can just be perfect enough maybe he won’t hit me.’

In the last week, I’ve had four people tell me they miss seeing my posts on Facebook, and HELLO I’M RIGHT HERE.

There’s so much I can’t control, but I can control how I spend my discretionary budget. My yarn spending has been severely curtailed, but dyers with a Bluesky presence get priority.

How much do you wanna bet that when the small rural hospital in the county where I grew up closes its doors, it’s gonna get blamed on Joe Biden?

The thing that really annoys me about the afterlife is that if I’m right and there isn’t one, I don’t get to be smug about it.

Last night we made Chinese beef with black bean sauce from scratch. It wasn’t even difficult once the ingredients were acquired (although it did require remembering to marinate the beef and soak the beans). It smelled so good I forgot to take a photo. Excellent wine pairing: Nerello Mascalese.

I really hope that several centuries ago, at least one of my ancestors snarled the equivalent of “fuck you, make me” in Scottish Gaelic.

If you can’t be hopeful, be defiant.

Baja fish tacos with dry hopped Pet Nat. I picked up this really intriguing California sparkling white wine on a recent foraging trek to the nearest big college town, and chose the menu to complement it. It has the citrus and hop flavors I like in an IPA, but none of the bitterness that I don’t.

There are a lot of things this government can do to me, but they cannot enforce feelings on me that I do not have.

It boggles my mind that anybody having their house reroofed can think the Mexican immigrants laying shingles in the hot sun are what’s wrong with America rather than the white guy who rolls up in the brand new $100K pickup truck at the end of the job with an invoice.

When I was a kid, I used to have nightmares about being left behind at the Rapture. Now I’m more like “…and don’t let the door hit you in the ass on your way up.”

I support reproductive freedom except for my Thai basil, which I refuse to let go to seed until there is frost in the forecast.

Ok what is with all these leaves on the ground? Who authorized this?

I am GenX with ADHD. Motto: Read fast and cancel things

Proud to be an early canceller.

Uh, 'steps'? What, was there a séance with spirits communicating through interpretive dance?

I went a day too long between waterings and now my tomato plants look like I feel.

Autocorrect, that was the final strawpostrophe. I'm turning you off.

Anybody got suggestions for what to do with all my subway tile samples? There are about three dozen of them.

On the plus side, abc/Hulu/Disney just saved me $19 a month.

I will not voluntarily be a billionaire’s product. I will not engage with algorithmic social media platforms. They are dangerous to society and have harmed me personally. And yes, I am willing to pay for the use of platforms where I can choose what I see.

I am red-eyed, snuffly, and sneezy. It’s neither a cold nor Covid; it’s ragweed season in the midwestern U.S. and I’m a pollen meter.

Battle doomscrolling by posting five small pleasures in life 1. Talking to the cat and having him meep back at me 2. Grazing cherry tomatoes right from the vine in my backyard 3. The sensation of matte finished tile under my bare feet 4. The evening calls of wood thrushes 5. Cheese

For absolutely no reason today I am remembering my grade school principal. When he died several years ago, there was a great social media outpouring of sorrow about what a wonderful man he was. What I remember was…

I grew up in a virtually all-white, straight(-presenting), Christian town, just like the far right want the whole U.S. to be, and you know what? It was BORING.

Six dish towels and a bread cloth from one warp, stay stitched, cut apart, and headed for the washer and dryer before hemming. #weaving

I got out my sewing machine for the first time in five years or so (and yes I did lubricate everything according to the manual before storing it) and I think the damned thing’s gone feral.

I came home after being out all day, dropped my iPad on the couch, and the lump under the throw blanket moved. Gus has decided that he is a burrowing animal.

I understand that for many small businesses, Meta engagement drives your livelihood. However, every post, every like, every view on Meta puts money in an oligarch’s pocket. It’s a hard place, I know.

We (where by ‘we’ I mean ‘I’) declared today to be Monday Friday and drank the other half of the Tannat dessert wine, this time with Point Reyes blue cheese.

Age verification? I saw Bad Company and Damn Yankees at the Hulman Civic Center.

My boycott of Rolex continues.

Have you noticed that nobody says “pictures or it didn’t happen” anymore? Gee thanks AI.

Couldn’t talk to a customer service rep at the USTA due to a “higher than normal call volume.” Call to let them know how you feel about their censorship instructions to the media! Join the wave!

Ever said “Well that wasn’t on MY bingo card?” This song is for you. youtu.be/G4ryITMvjlk?...

Ruin a movie by making it about Gary. When Gary Met Sally

Fuck it, I’m opening the $45 sweet red wine I’ve been “saving.”

Well hell. Literally, not figuratively; around noon the well pump started making a very unpleasant noise. Luckily the well service company promptly sent a team, who replaced a rusted galvanized steel fitting with a brass one. And now we have water again.