What's bookmark bankruptcy for? I wish I had a way to export my Opera bookmarks to delicious, but otherwise, no--I consider it note taking, and I don't do enough of that that I've reached the point of throwing notes out yet.

I have seventy gajillion, but I also have emails from 1997.

Spanish speakers, halp?

I need to know if "Quiero tirarle a las manos y las rodillas para darle una buena cogida por el culo" means "I want to throw you (or I want you on) your hands and knees (so I can or to) give you a good fuck in the ass."

My job, I do love it.

I would like to trade the manuscripts I'm editing for Strix's.

I think so, Strix. Ay, dios mio.

I want Vortex to know that I was sadly looking into a nearly empty freezer for lunch saw some frozen green beans and remembered that I had some bacon fat left over from making bacon this weekend.

And I thought, "I'm gonna all Vortex on these green beans with the bacon fat!"

Which are currently cooking right now.

I would like to trade the manuscripts I'm editing for Strix's.

The one I did last night was a M/M BDSM short story MS! Lots of dick!

It's weird that the easiest way for me to check which time zone I'm in is to post, and compare my time to board time, right? (Trying to figure out when the Curiosity press conference is.)

(eta: Hmph. I'm still on Pacific time, so one more hour.)

I want to send thanks out for the tire~ma, even though I never wrote out my request for the ~ma. I've already broken my bank account with my recent dental work. When we found a nail (turned out to be a screw) in my tire, I was resigned to needing to buy new tires. But they were able to repair it at no cost. Wheeeeee.

Dammit. I am STILL stuck waiting for this cable dude to hook cable up to the upstairs room at this client's house. And I still haven't eaten, I'm bored off my ass, I'm now sitting in my car because my phone died, and I REALLY WANT TO GO HOME.

Because I know there are some (highly suspect) people who don't actually do tumblr, I thought I'd give Jesse a reblog rec here.

It's a lovely story about a father who's helping his 5-year old son feel comfortable wearing whatever he wants to. Which, at this point, includes skirts, dresses, and nail polish. He's helping by wearing the same, because that's how his son feels brave enough to stand up to the kids who tease him.

And what’s the guy doing by now? He paints his fingernails. He think it looks pretty on me, too. He smiles when other boys (it’s almost always boys) want to make a fool out of him and says: ‘You just don’t dare to wear dresses and skirts because your fathers don’t dare to.’ That’s how much he has squared his shoulders by now. Thanks to dad in a skirt.