feh.

[phosfate]

I feel one of those stress-induced low-level headaches coming on, the kind you get from a plane ride. This could lead to snappishness, a crying jag, or vomiting in the near future. It was set off when some moron left decaying, leaking Asian food in the icebox overnight, and when I opened it to stash my milk, I nearly woofed in the institutional green wastebasket.

The culprit came and cleaned it out, so there's no need to mention Mary O's name here at all.

Am drawing a dragon. Not the cuddly, Pern-y kind that will be your eternal soulmate, but the kind that wants to eat your head. When did dragons go from being the baddest mothers in the valley to being glorified horses? It's like My Friend F'licka or something.

Gervaise the bear was very brave during Lord of the Rings, so I bought him a small red fez of his very own. Unfortunately, between his new hat and his outing with the Big People, he has become smug to the point of annoyance. It's not becoming. It's not becoming at all. Little bastard.

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[annlarimer.livejournal.com]

Truly the fez is a modern wonder.