Tyger's, unless some other kingdom stole our awards. I didn't join young enough to get a tyger's cub. Still hoping for my AoA at some point, though I'd feel bad right at the moment because I've been slacking horribly on my herald's duties.

Tyger, I suppose, yeah. I don't have the scroll anymore, I need to get it from mom. And one of my ex-bfs took my necklace token

I babysat the king and queens kids. And did dishes. And was in the SCA since birth. Gleeee

This weekend is my town's summer festival. It's fun. There are bands playing, people are milling around all of the vendors' tents that appeared over night, and the temperature's starting to mellow out from a blistering 100 to a crisp 90, complete with a cool breeze.

The pleasant picture I just painted for you has a dark side that seems to creep into the tattoo parlor in which I work. The unwashed masses, who usually aren't students in this college-oriented town, surround us in waves of grime, stench, and fathomless stupidity. Really, though. I just answered some woman's questions about the industry, sating her curiosities about the process of tattooing, the inks that we use, how the pigments bond with her natural coloring, the cleaning process-- you name it.

... then she asked if we were still selling yarn. I stared at her blankly, asked if she was looking for the shop down the road that sells craft supplies, and she smiled her snaggletooth at me and said, "Why, yes! Just down the road, you said?" She is one of my better experiences so far. The creature with the mane of dyed black hair, lip rings and black make-up filled the shop with body odor, touched all of the jewelry, and asked me if I sell labret studs. I pulled out all of the display cases, tried diligently to find what he was looking for, and then he announces that I don't know what I'm doing-- the ring he was looking for was right here, he was just hoping I'd find it.

The ring. The RING was right there, not the stud. Inhale. Exhale. Gag, because I forgot to breathe through my mouth.

If you haven't bathed in a few days and if your children have a penchant for looking with their hands, go away. I'm typing up a "No animals allowed-- if you don't bathe regularly, that means you" sign as we speak.

Roar. Please be nice to Druken tonight. End rant.

I love my brother to death, but sometimes he says things that actually make me ashamed of him.

This is my entire family.

"Cool thing, decent thing, funny thing... OMG DID YOU REALLY SAY THAT? *facepalm*"

Old Blanchy is dead! Dead I tell you! *cry*

Reduced fat sour cream. What in the hell is this, this goes against the entire purpose of sour cream, which is to provide a food item with some much-needed fatty deliciousness. My meal, as a result, has far too much sour and not enough cream. I'm just sort of staring sadly at my taquitos, all of which are untouched save for the one I took a hopeful bite out of. It's not even like this whole ensemble is particularly appealing in the first place; bland, corn tortilla taquitos, a little hot sauce, and a generous helping of sour cream to make it edible. But when the sour cream itself is appalling, all bets are off.

I guess I could just...drink the hot sauce? That's all I've got left of this that I enjoy in the least.

EDIT: It turns out that drinking hot sauce is somewhat painful.

Having a toothache, an earache, and a headache all at once - accompanying my milieu of physical ailments is the blessing of crappy internet and the habitual chance of disconnecting every time I bash. This results in a bunch of experience loss and humiliating deaths for my character. Did I mention it's sweltering hot in this house? Well, it is.

Cooking is easy and probably cheaper than what you've got going on. I highly encourage it. Life is too short for terrible food.

I love cooking. I absolutely adore making my own meals that actually taste like something. We just don't have anything to cook with since everyone else in my house is content to live off of chips and microwave foods.

Everyone else in my house was too, until I laid exclusive claim to the kitchen and started cooking.

It was an uphill fight, to be sure. First, they were all like "MMM, WASN'T THAT GOOD AND EASY?" Gradually, it turned into interest in what random meal I'd whip up with the random scraps of raw ingredients we happened to have on hand. Then, when they "cooked" because I was busy, they started to look really sad and guilty when they offered me microwave food. Now they at least cook from a box when I'm not cooking (which is rare, but fine, because I like cooking), which still doesn't really count, but it's much better than microwaved meatloaf that tastes like ketchup and lard with a side of bland microwaved canned potatoes.

My wife started by cooking our own meals... and it has now progressed to where I get home made fresh loaves of bread baked for my family once or twice a week. And that's not the only thing we've started doing from scratch.

It's tastier, and far cheaper. That's how it started, we were pooooooor so she started doing everything from scratch. Way better than living off of chicken dogs or ramen, lemme tell you.

I really like cooking myself. What I hate, is the cleanup that follows cooking.

There's plenty of people who'll happily do the cleaning for you if you do the cooking for them!

They make these things called dishwashers now... the new ones are actually more water efficient than washing by hand.

Also, roommates and children make good slave labor.


Just sayin.

...I miss World of Warcraft.

Playing on 3G wifi and having it drop my connection at least twice an irl day, resulting in my death almost every time.

I have none of those things.





Sometime or another, I need to find me one of those.

Yeah, that's a good one. Someone willing to help clean up after a meal? You must live in some sort of joy ridden place of pure light and helpfulness.

No, I think it's my wife who does, since I'm the one who does her cleaning.