Rain Dog @Leucrotta@awoo.space

Today is being a very I hate Seattle and I need out sort of day

apparently "ham and cheese sandwiches maybe 3 hours from bedtime" gave me the sort of acid reflux I once could only achieve with chorizo burritos though, thankfully, not as bad as chorizo-burrito-AND-strawberry-margarita acid reflux

well at least now I can post the "What a week, huh?" "It's Wednesday, Comrade Captain" meme

Let's say you have a trans girl, and if she were willing to grit her teeth and put up with playing boy for her father, a man who makes more than ALL OF AUSTRALIA in a year, she could be rich beyond the dreams of avarice. What sort of father must that incredibly rich man be, that she literally disowned him and passed up on all chance of ever seeing any of that money?

it turns out that all of us who used to only KINDA hate Twitter are currently finding out.

A Scotsman clad in kilt left th' bar one evening fair
An' one could tell by how he walked that he'd drunk more than his share
when all at one a mighty herd of red-eyed cows he saw
ploughin' through the ragged skies and up the cloudy draw

their faces gaunt their eyes were blurred
their shirts all soaked not dry
an' one says to the other with a twinkle in his eye
see yon sleepin' Scotsman so strong and handsome built
Ah wonder if it's true what they don't wear beneath the kilt

yippie ay yay
yippie ay yo
ghost rahders in th' sky

they marveled for a minute then one said we must be on
let's leave a present for our friend before we move along
'cause they've got to ride forever
on that range up in the sky
on horses snortin' fahr
as they rahd on hear them cry

The' Scotsman woke to nature's call and stumbled towards a tree
behind th' bush he lifts his kilt and he gawks at what he sees
and in a startled voice he says to what's before his eyes
tryin' t'catch the devil's herd
across these endless skies

yippie ay yay
yippie ay yo
ghost rahders in th' sky

Just one #drawing today, a noble Warforged paladin takes the fight to duergar slave traders in their own lair.

and then I think of the hierarchy of human needs. I didn't have enough food; I certainly didn't feel safe; I was semi-intentionally isolated and my personality pushed under to serve others' needs; I was handed religion which wasn't an option I could explore, or it was actively hostile.

I was NOT going to charge out of this, achieve financial and emotional success by the age of 28.

And if it sounds like I'm trying to feel better about how I'm a disposable nothing in this society/feeling endangered by this/far from doing a lot of things I want to do, slammed home by yet another birthday, you're right actually; I am.

I’m struck by how short a distance there is between “I don’t like how I am made to live” and “I don’t like myself,” and given all the value judgments in childhood about how being good would have kept me safe, there really wasn’t a way I could’ve retained any self-esteem whatsoever.

Thanks to having the Blacksad Sketchbook before owning book one (Within the Shadows) this is actually the first time I’ve seen this dialogue in English!

You cannot speak to someone as an equal, who sees you as a target. Problem is that like you, the enemy sees an uncompromising threat. And while you might actually have the ethical high ground that doesn’t help how ideally we want to communicate.

you wouldn't download A MONONYKUS

consequently I've swapped Dead Can Dance albums from "Into the Labyrinth" (which, Very Irish song included, comes across as sort of a Silent Strider album) to "Dionysius" which is a WAY more Black Fury flavored album

combining Wolfe Tone's rebellion with the death of a pretty girl makes "The Wind that Shakes the Barley" pretty much the most Fianna song ever and, again, I'm not actually playing a Fianna in my #WtA game

can you guess who apparently got ghosted for a phone interview, might have a 1500 Teams screening and is currently really sad about cats?

one of those dreams where visuals shifted from telling a joke in a big fine art museum or something. The joke was;

during Saturday's D&D game, we kept finding fur oil all over the place. If we opened a chest, there'd be fur oil smeared on the lock; when you fell into a pit trap, there'd be fur oil on the sharpened stakes. Eventually we traced all this to its source, a wizened dessicated creature, fur halfway gone from its hyenid body, because Gnoll Lich is Fur Oil.

... in the dream I also tried to stretch this into the more normal Gnoll Lich is Power, and I don't remember how.

#drawings today, a heroic cleric takes on a mummy and in Eberron a shifter and her warforged companion take on a shadowy figure atop the lightning rail!

When That Man Is Dead And Gone https://youtu.be/XRRBKfqhem0 via @YouTube

one day we will read his obituary. Maybe I won't be around for it, but someone will be.

Der Fuehrer's Face https://youtu.be/g73kKLts95U via @YouTube

okay, pushing to knock out UI application for last week turned out to be a great idea because somehow I managed to miss reporting pay - so I suggested I might have underreported unintentionally and sent them a screenshot of all hours from the agency website for the assignment. Hopefully this will all turn out okay - being authorities the alert was full of dire threats. Anyway that and last week's job search stuff are in.

Okay that was a bit more than 3 hours of job hunt stuff on kinda ehh sleep, so I feel kinda crummy and it's definitely time to do something else.