Account inactive @literorrery@awoo.space

... sure, let's listen to Glosoli at work, bird. This is a wise move and sure to leave you in great shape.

Right now, I want __all__ the slagging cheap chocolate I can fit in my beak. All of it.

Cravings are the worst. >x<

I just got paid the most amazing compliment.

"It's either the best mole or the worst milkshake." #nocontexttheater

Sugar Mama is best pony. #nocontexttheater

TFW you want to order tamarind paste so you can up your Indian game without nightshades but you can't find it in any local markets and don't want to buy it on Amazon. XvX

And the whole game is full of just... little gems like this. It's a children's television noblebright story generator. It feels like another world's historical chess analog from when their world was in a state of illiberality and the people made a game to remind them that there were paths out of their present darkness.

i just got through a game that about made me cry, and the best I can do to explain why is that as I was playing, I was unfolding a story of Griotte with this terrible reputation for some past transgression. She tried to hunt spirit stones, but they wouldn't listen. She picked up the sword but Rot-Stained Mercurio bested her. The summons to the King's deathbed was really Mercurio's trap, but he ended framed for the King's death and Griotte won the crown, overcoming Mercurio's framing her.

... okay, brain, I get it. You have a story. Please put down the hammer. Not right now. I'll go drink something and lie down and see if it passes.

Armello has turned into my sweet and tender baby. I thought I would end up mocking this mutant board game's existence but I can't. I just can't. I want to rag miserably on its limited scope of moral systems as expressed in game mechanic, but they're at once so charmingly "on the side of good" while empowering "the side of evil" to choose its own path that I can't. I can only pat it on the head and hope one day it grows a Wyld head to counter the Rot so there's an opposing game mechanic to play.

As a note, I did not -- and will not -- consume the whole container at once.

I figure I'll do that the morning after my retirement party so it doesn't matter when or if I come back.

Maybe I'll add it to a mango smoothie. ^v^

The THC-a in the syringe is, in fact, activated.

I know this because, as the cook, I had to taste the food.

Today's experiment:

Sticky cinnamon buns with orange weed buttercream. The weed component will be played by "Oleum Cannabis Distillate," an unassuming container sold to me that contains SEVEN-HUNDRED-FIFTY MILLIGRAMS of THC-A in a 1cc syringe.

Comets, I may melt. But the buttercream is tasty.

... Diamond -- my middle child -- totally needs to get written in something as a glittery psychopomp at some point.

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