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For Tabaqui's Birthday

A picture that made me smile.

I hope it makes you smile too. You were, maybe, the first to show me internet friends are just as real as friends you make any other way. Thanks for expanding my brain, you!

dammit dammit

So upset. Eaves collapsed under the weight of snow and ice at the back of my 1950's vintage local wood motel, all old panelling. I can't even rent one room until it's fixed. Now the snow is gone, I got a bid, insurance finally paid up, and we're golden.
The builder fixing my roof lied to me, the hardware store flat out lied to me about what he snuck in on my lumber order, and then showed up late after I'd already left for an appointment. Sneaky-ass has now replaced 50' of vintage old-school grandfathered-under-code wooden beams with fucking chipboard that isn't even the same size, and already cut my support beams to fit. I can't even figure out if it's fixable, it will never pass inspection, there goes my bid to have it registered as a historic place, and the builder threw a tantrum, threatened me, yelled and threw shit until his help quit, so now he says he can't finish the job for several weeks. AND he thinks he should be paid in advance.
I don't know what to do.
Obviously I should go to the BBB to make a complaint. But, the local hardware store has been very good to me, always good advice and never steered me wrong, cut me in on good deals when they come in. Whoever this guy who lied to me- After playing 20 questions with all kinds of evasions, leading me to think he's a noob who just didn't know what he was looking at and ask very specific questions he finally said; yes, it's actual wood, and of course the dimensions (2 full inches wider than the shit really is!) are what you say you ordered, he said. So I approved the purchase, and paid. Turns out he's the builder's barbuddy, and a lumberyard manager at the hardware store.

Now, do I take this first to the hardware store so they can stop this bozo scammming anyone else, and probably destroy my working relationship with long-term suppliers? Or, can I put through a complaint without my name coming into it? Does anybody know?

Sir Gawain And The Green Knight

as conceived by Mallory Ortberg
Yes, This is exactly how it happened

come over
it’ll be fun
we can whack off each other’s heads with swords

GAWAIN: what

GREEN KNIGHT: you can make out with my wife

GAWAIN: sorry what

GREEN KNIGHT: you can make out with me

GAWAIN: what?

GREEN KNIGHT: come over
we’ll have dinner
with all our heads on and also clothes


GAWAIN: your clothes – your hair – your face – they’re all green

GREEN KNIGHT: that’s not all of me that’s green

GAWAIN: what is that supposed to mean

GREEN KNIGHT: let’s play a game
you hit me today and i’ll hit you a year from now

GAWAIN: it’s Christmas

hit me today and i’ll hit you a year and a day from now

GAWAIN: I don’t understand the rules of this game
or the prize
what is the end goal here

GREEN KNIGHT: are you going to try to cut my head off or what

[GAWAIN cuts the GREEN KNIGHT’s head off]

GREEN KNIGHT: great hit
see you in a year

[The GREEN KNIGHT picks his head up and rides away]

GAWAIN: oh my God

KING ARTHUR: honestly
my advice to you is not even worry about this

GUINEVERE: yeah do not take this seriously

GAWAIN: why would I do that
that’s a terrible idea
this man can’t die and I have to let him strike me in a year

KING ARTHUR: look i just said that was my advice


GREEN KNIGHT: welcome to my castle, we’ve definitely never cut off each other’s heads before, my name is Bertilak and I am a regular human color, how are you

thank you for your hospitality, but I cannot stay long
I have an appointment with a man at the Green Chapel in a few days

GREEN KNIGHT: that is JUST down the road from here, probably
you should just stay here until it’s time for that, stay here with me and my wife

GAWAIN: very well
I accept

GREEN KNIGHT: oh but shoot I have to go on a hunt, like right now
so why don’t we just agree to play a game for as long as you’re staying here
where I bring you whatever I find during the day
and you bring me whatever you find during the day

GAWAIN: what an odd suggestion
why don’t I just come hunting with you instead?


GAWAIN: but you already own everything in the castle, it’s your c –



GAWAIN2LADY BERTILAK: whatcha kissin’

GAWAIN: what?

LADY BERTILAK: let’s make out

GAWAIN: I don’t feel like we should do that

LADY BERTILAK: if you don’t kiss me at least once it would really hurt my feelings

GAWAIN: well
if it would hurt your feelings

now you can make out with my husband tonight

I have brought you a deer from today’s hunt
what do you have for me

I guess I have some kissing for you to have

GREEN KNIGHT: sounds great [they kiss]
ok see you tomorrow

GAWAIN: oh I really don’t want to play this game again, this is making me sort of unco –

GREEN KNIGHT: see you tomorrow


LADY BERTILAK: let’s have sex

GAWAIN: Okay, no for two reasons
one is that you are my host’s wife and also it goes against every vow of knighthood ever
and the second half of the second reason is that then I would have to also have sex with your husband
according to your weird castle sex game

LADY BERTILAK: mm that sounds like a Gawain problem
not a Lady Bertilak problem

GAWAIN: I’m not having sex with you

here’s my underwear though, you have to take it
otherwise it would be rude

GAWAIN: well I don’t want to be rude
excuse me, I have to go kiss your husband again

GREEN KNIGHT: Well, Gawain
it’s been a great time here at Castle Makeout
but you’d better go fight that Green Knight you keep talking about

GAWAIN: I will probably perish when it is his turn to deliver the blow
Farewell, friend

Gawain it was me the whole time

GAWAIN: what

GREEN KNIGHT: I’m the same guy
and I’m not gonna kill you
I’m just gonna fuck up your neck a little because you kept my wife’s underwear and didn’t tell me
but you’re all right, guy
you’re all right

GAWAIN: what the hell
what the hell was the point of any of this
why the hell did you set all this up for


GAWAIN: what the HELL

KNIGHTS OF THE ROUND TABLE: henceforth we shall all wear green sashes
to celebrate the valuable lesson we have learned this day




Adventures in Advanced Britpicking

You know how, every time you read a British writer's assertion that "Sam was stood in the doorway" or "Bobby was sat in his chair' your mind boggles for a moment at the gall of whoever put them there?
And you think, for a split second- Whoa-
Sam's kinda large to be manhandling like that, and Bobby might bite.
And than your brain catches up with you, and you remember in British that just means "was standing", all on their own, nobody put them there and made them stay.
So you sigh with relief, quit looking surreptitiously around for that brave pushy villain and pick up the thread of the story again.
Maybe you're a little embarrassed because that weird little grammar thing still gets you Every. Single. Time.
So. Then there is this video, with the comment "I think its more disturbing that the cat is sat...ontop of the bannister!" followed by at least half a dozen assurances that the cat probably climbed up there by himself. A couple snarky "Cats do climb, you know" cracks.

And you are again bewildered, just for a moment, because this ONE time, when everybody else was thinking "who had the gall to put it there?", you didn't even notice the weird little thing. *Headdesk*
Funny video, tho. It was suggested under the brawling kangaroos video.

Nov. 16th, 2014

So, I may be about to lose this journal if I never post. I realized I never posted any pics of the motel, and though I acquired dogs, rapidly growing dogs, I've never posted those either. So her's the motel, the dogs, Kokopelli on the left and Karma on the right, and the moon out back!
Kokopelli and Karma in their chairs
koko1motel 019
So, after months of dancing with the crazy, I have embraced it fully. Bought myself a job. I just closed on a motel in Oregon- rustic old school affair right near Crater Lake.
Now the insanity really begins.

(It's just the sort of place boyz would stay, too;)
Oddly...More than 50 percent of the friends I have mentioned it to immediately asked if it was haunted (and one insisted that was implied in asking what's wrong with it? lol)
Maybe not so odd. I can't help but wonder if that implies more about me or about my friends?

Anybody want a job far from the madding crowd?


Finally posted over at Jampony for this year's challenge. YAY!
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just some fun for a friend!

we all knew cats love fish, but who knew they love cats too?

Dumpsters 1 Clown Cars O


there goes the neighborhood..

No fireworks on the 4th, because all the firetrucks are busy, and there's not enough firefighters to fight the fires we already got. ;( Luckily, people have been responsible (or just scared), so I heard no illicit whizzbangs last night!
(Somewhere in Centennial,though, there's a truckload of homemade and storebought fireworks, just waiting for a better time. let it be so)

sheep mountain wpr

Sheep Mountain's about 20 miles away; can smell the smoke, see it floating through the streets and raining ash. Friends have evacuated, but it's now 55% contained!

fox creek rd uwx

Road to Centennial

sheep mountain karberg

The Squirrel Creek Fire spread rapidly Monday, and topped the crest of Sheep Mountain
The line of light below the fire is Harmony; my favorite place to sub because the kids are amazing, fun, and smart, and where my Dad and I ate the best steaks ever after graduation.



I've been watching and posting too many horrid images of wildfires recently
here's something better to contemplate;)

i think Bing's a fangirl

Why, you ask? One of my students posted this in arabic on facebook, so I hit translate;

"I look forward to every Friday that voice which could tarnish the world when whoops Gabriel between Earth and heaven "appeared ...
(Translated by Bing)

so mysteriously apropos..I'm not even going to wonder what she really said.

( =';'= )

Potsticker sauce

Findyourwords said, "Happy Chinese New Year! It's the year of the dragon. This calls for potstickers. :D"
It occurs to me that's very true. :D And, it occurs to me I've never written down my recipe for the best potsticker sauce ever, whether you're calling them gyoza, mandu, or potstickers.
 So, without further ado...

Mince 1 medium-large clove of garlic and a knob of ginger about the size of your thumbnail very fine.
Mix in soy sauce and rice vinegar in a 3:1 ratio, to make  about 1/4 cup, mashing a little as you go. Let stand at least an hour before you portion it out. Or not, but it's best when you do.
 Float a dash of toasted sesame oil on top of each dipping bowl. (Some people like the chili sesame oil, but imo, that's overkill. You have plenty of flavors already, and the chili tends to obscure them.)
Optional; top with a few morsels of green onion or garlic chives sliced paper thin for extra color.

Make your potstickers. (an interesting variation is to stir up to a tablespoon of flour into the water you pour in to steam them, which makes a nice crust when the dumplings are tightly packed in the pan).
Serve on a separate plate, with a dish of sauce for each person.



The Queen's Gambit Job
The Maltese Falcon Job
The Twelve Step Job
Jimmy Ford
The Carnival Job
The San Lorenzo Job
The Mark
Jimmy Papadokalus
The Fairy Godparents Job
Retrieval Specialist
The Zanzibar Marketplace Job
The Future Job
Mikel Dayan
McRory's Bar
Cora McRory
The Tap Out Job
The Bottle Job
The Order 23 Job
Alec Hardison
Sophie Devereaux
The Snow Job


<p align="center"><img src="http://www.flarn.com/~warlock/tarot/dragon/18.jpg"></p>
<h2 align="center"><font face="Verdana"><b>You are The Moon</b></font></h2>
<p align="center"><font face="Verdana">Hope, expectation, Bright promises.</font></p>
<p align="center"><font face="Verdana">The Moon is a card of magic and mystery - when prominent you know that nothing is as it seems, particularly when it concerns relationships. All logic is thrown out the window.</font></p>
<p align="center"><font face="Verdana">The Moon is all about visions and illusions, madness, genius and poetry. This is a card that has to do with sleep, and so with both dreams and nightmares. It is a scary card in that it warns that there might be hidden enemies, tricks and falsehoods. But it should also be remembered that this is a card of great creativity, of powerful magic, primal feelings and intuition. You may be going through a time of emotional and mental trial; if you&nbsp;have any past mental problems, you must be vigilant in taking your medication but avoid drugs or alcohol, as abuse of either will cause them irreparable damage. This time however, can also result in great creativity, psychic powers, visions and insight. You can and should trust your intuition.</font></p>
<p align="center"><font size="2" face="Verdana"><b>What Tarot Card are You?</b><br><a href="http://www.flarn.com/~warlock/tarot" target="_blank">Take the Test to Find Out.</a></font></p>


To Meme or not to Meme...

Comment to this entry and I'll give you a letter.
List ten things, people, places, beings, thoughts, feelings, that you love that begin with that letter and then post that list on your journal.

relativity1953 gave me P, so
Personally popular things beginning with PCollapse )

11. Postscripts. Because I always have one more thing to say. (I didn't even get to Procrastination!)


Mature Rape/Non-Con, Underage
1212 words
Vorkosigan Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold
Characters: Konstantin Bothari, OCs
for; 2011 Bujold Fest


Bothari once told Cordelia he was a bastard, literally. Sometimes he goes home. He took Kou there once to get laid, and it all went south. The quote from Impsec's report went something like, “Apparently he has a favorite girl in the Caravanserai. He likes her because she never makes any noise. I don’t really want to think about that.”
For jetta_e_rus.
In response to the prompt :
Bothari at his age of thirteen suffers but lets nobody to break him. According to the novels, realistic, hard, frankly. No any miraculous escape.
Canon violence, trauma, language and non-graphic child abuse. I like Bothari, he's such a complex character, so thanks for the prompt! I'm sorry this is short, just stream of conciousness, quick and unbeta'd, but I hope it's close to what you wanted!

Tricks who came in quietly through the side door always had money and a sneer. They gave the boss fake names, but their fake names always started with Vor something because they wanted respect. So they acted like Vor assholes, when even a stupid kid like Konstantin Bothari could tell the nearest they’d ever get to a real Vor was when they got the chance to lick Vor boots.
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What is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to you?
Two actually come to mind, but the most important might be
When I was a teenager with a ridiculous lot of problems, my mom gave me an art card with a quote from Camus;
"In the midst of winter, I found, within me, an endless summer."
I was confused, and a little resentful, so I asked her if she thought I should try to be like that and she said
No, she'd never understood it, but I always had been, she'd just seen the card and it seemed to her like Camus was describing me.

I'll never give that up.
Title; Self-defense by Eliot Spencer
Characters; Team
Category; Gen
Disclaimer; yes.

Nate drinks. He lets shit come at him full speed, knowing when it hits that soft fog the booze builds between him and everything else it’ll slow down enough he’ll have plenty of time to look it over and figure out how to spin it, because he’s Nathan Fucking Ford. And if the shit gets through, well, that’s manageable, too. One more drink and Nathan Ford won’t care how the world spins. He keeps the shit under control that way, and when the shit hits the fan Nate's the only one smiling about it, because somehow he always staggers away smelling like a rose.

Sophie says when life hands Sophie Devereux lemons, she just loosens another button on her shirt and convinces life to buy her a shandy instead. Sophie’s a liar. And you believe her , because Sophie’s never more convincing than when she’s lying. Sophie doesn’t defend herself because she has nothing to defend. Sophie doesn’t exist,and that makes her strong.
When the shit comes down, she was never there, never saw shit, didn’t smell it, step in it or take it along. Sophie wriggles out of that skin and leaves it behind, while some other Sophie walks away unstained.
Sophie doesn’t give a damn about the shit she leaves behind. Sophie Devereaux doesn’t have a damn to give, she doesn’t even have a name, just a lot of shiny old stuff she keeps hidden away and a shiny new self to step out in every day.

Parker well,she’s never all there even when she is, because Parker's a sneak and she hides. Dropping through the ceiling, sleeping in the vents, walking between the walls. She’s a face in the window, a shadow on the wall, a noise on the roof. You’ve never really seen Parker, just her big laugh and the loud comments that never quite fit, long fingers poking at all the wrong places, curling up comfortable where nobody normal would ever want to be. She’ll cartwheel through a window and disappear with everything you have and you’ll never even see her, never know she touched you. Parker’s the ghost you wouldn’t tell your best friend about, (if you had one) because she's never all there and most people don't know when she’s there at all.
When the shit hits the fan she flies away, there’s not enough of her there to hit anyway.

Hardison, Hardison ought to be dead a hundred times over. Loud, graceless, with an ego the size of his flatscreen. For no reason you can see. No sense of self-preservation, no sense at all. If annoying was an Olympic sport Hardison would be wearing so many gold medals he’d fall flat on his face. Again.
You see him, you know you'll hear him, and you try to get away from him because Hardison gets in your face and never. shuts. up.
But after weeks not listening, trying to ignore him, you figured out he doesn’t say a damn thing. Hardison isn't real, he has no more face of his own than the alien on that space opera he’s so fond of. Hardison, the most paranoid geek who ever clicked a key, owns every electronic doodad ever made and made a few himself, but never had an answering machine because They could use that to listen to him when he’s all alone, and nobody’s ever gonna stick shit to Hardison that way.
When the shit hits the fan Hardison walks through the walls, making doors and wiping his tracks as he goes, and even though you wish you didn’t remember him, you know if you check he was never there.

And then there’s you. You can punch through walls high and wide, you used to leave your signature behind but you don’t anymore because everybody knows your name. They know what you’ll do, and that’s whatever it takes. You’ve left enough skin behind to fill Sophie’s closet with handbags and shoes, but you always walked out the same man, just carrying a little more shit. After all these years you’re carrying so much you're bigger than life.
You used a hundred names, but you’ve only ever had one, very distinctive, style. You’ve become a Name. You can fly on it, open doors with it, or even hide behind it, because your Name’s even bigger than you are. You’re not paranoid, because it’s not paranoia when it’s real. You don’t sleep much and you drink a lot, but you don’t drink like Nate does. The world never softens when you drink, and you’d like to spin it all away too but that’s not how it goes.
What you do, you watch closer, you think more, you spin faster and hit harder than anybody expects. And when the shit hits, Eliot Spencer becomes the fan.