Epic! So good to see your pixels.

Happy birthday, EPIC!!!

Happy Epic Day! Edited because, although I appreciate a good riff, though I'm not saying that was one, either, he's not worth the effort of this Everclear deep cut. We just kind of don't belong in each other's families--he probably should have never tried to have *one* let alone make two unsuccessful attempts--really, he should have found a job in a lighthouse and an escort known for making meatloaf and bottomless cups of coffee.

In the One of Us category, ltc has made a list of her fandoms ( and her favorite characters in each fandom to go along with her birthday list.

ha, ha. cute.

(Wheels topless through unattended thread, maybe acting like John Bender) "And the bear says 'You didn't come here to hunt, did you?"

This is interesting. [link] Someone found out a lot about RW politics and the men who hold them talking on a sex line. When I was in college, somebody used to tell me I'd be great at that, but I never really figured out if they were taking the piss, being as how I was deep into a rather sedate presentation at the time. Like, was that calling a big man "Tiny" or what. I think it might have done me more good to do that than get the BA that nobody's asked about in a decade and a half(Mom would still not wanna hear that, even if it's too late for me to have a permanent record OR a Future with a capital F.)

I, or rather the person I am on the blog. seem to have a new Mastodon Fanboy. Which is cool, but I'm kind of not used to people wanting great gulps of my content, right?Especially the posts that are more about disability and don't make it sound screwball or like a fun ride or anything--I've been kind of taking a hard look lately, as befits an artist whose audience has reached mid-double figures, and it seems like people don't always appreciate that. Sometimes to put that mildly, but I spend enough time not saying what I really think.(It sucks to have spent most of your life in a place where people don't get what you're about.) And I still wish the publishers had made it more clear that it was more like *try your hand* at blogging what your shit's about, and there's really only two slots--we're helping Jim sell his novel. Maybe it wouldn't have hurt my feelings. The part I hate is that there's a part of my brain that's thought about meet-cutes since I was about eleven who's like "Maybe you'll fall in love and he'll come there and sweep you away from all of your problems." He's somebody's dad in Europe--that's probably not going to happen. It is nice to imagine something that happens to me that's not some tragic fail of the safety net.