pandas are goth?

Enotsola says:
Pandas are too goth
Tass says:
I think you are confusing pandas with penguins
Tass says:
it's understandable, they both wear black and white outfits
Tass says:
only pandas wear way too much eyeliner
Tass says:
....
Tass says:
wait, you're right
Tass says:
they are goth

pandas are goth?

Enotsola says:
Pandas are too goth
Tass says:
I think you are confusing pandas with penguins
Tass says:
it's understandable, they both wear black and white outfits
Tass says:
only pandas wear way too much eyeliner
Tass says:
....
Tass says:
wait, you're right
Tass says:
they are goth

go Al!

I just used my last 39-cent stamp (domestic first-class postage goes up to 41 cents on Monday) to mail a check to the Walk of Fame star for Weird Al campaign.

All is right with the world.

I guess.

go Al!

I just used my last 39-cent stamp (domestic first-class postage goes up to 41 cents on Monday) to mail a check to the Walk of Fame star for Weird Al campaign.

All is right with the world.

I guess.

dreamland

Late this morning (the time of the strongest, or at least most memorable, dream activity for me), I dreamed:

• About having to pass some kind of "how much serious stuff have you written" test to gain access to a massive library? magazine archive? something, in New York City. The test was biofeedback-plus-television somehow -- you were supposed to think of every article or book you had written while touching your finger to a little metal plate, which did some kind of electrostatic voodoo and passed or failed you. One of my ex-boyfriends was in the group with me and passed, which was rather oddly represented by his onscreen cartoon image being shot multiple times with arrows, a couple in the head, a couple in the abdomen and like six of them right through the throat. (This had something to do with the count of what kind of writing each of them was, or something.) I failed not only because I had no body of work to think about, but because I refused to touch the metal thingy, citing that "I couldn't stand the electric feeling" or something (which is kind of true; the weird tingle gives me the heebie-jeebies).


• Surrounding that, I'm not sure whether before, after, or both, there was something about an otherkin gather, a few folks kind of dressed up just walking down the street, one of them twirling a ... staff... I guess, with some kind of gold tinsel symbol mounted on the end (a circle with a line through it? or something). Three of them were my boss's three daughters. O.o I think there were five total. Images of sun and bright, light grey concrete sidewalks.


• Something about there being a new District holiday on March 23rd... which there isn't, but they give us the Friday before Labor Day as "Cesar Chavez" day... isn't his birthday in March?


• the_misha getting pulled over for a DUI. O.o

dreamland

Late this morning (the time of the strongest, or at least most memorable, dream activity for me), I dreamed:

• About having to pass some kind of "how much serious stuff have you written" test to gain access to a massive library? magazine archive? something, in New York City. The test was biofeedback-plus-television somehow -- you were supposed to think of every article or book you had written while touching your finger to a little metal plate, which did some kind of electrostatic voodoo and passed or failed you. One of my ex-boyfriends was in the group with me and passed, which was rather oddly represented by his onscreen cartoon image being shot multiple times with arrows, a couple in the head, a couple in the abdomen and like six of them right through the throat. (This had something to do with the count of what kind of writing each of them was, or something.) I failed not only because I had no body of work to think about, but because I refused to touch the metal thingy, citing that "I couldn't stand the electric feeling" or something (which is kind of true; the weird tingle gives me the heebie-jeebies).


• Surrounding that, I'm not sure whether before, after, or both, there was something about an otherkin gather, a few folks kind of dressed up just walking down the street, one of them twirling a ... staff... I guess, with some kind of gold tinsel symbol mounted on the end (a circle with a line through it? or something). Three of them were my boss's three daughters. O.o I think there were five total. Images of sun and bright, light grey concrete sidewalks.


• Something about there being a new District holiday on March 23rd... which there isn't, but they give us the Friday before Labor Day as "Cesar Chavez" day... isn't his birthday in March?


• the_misha getting pulled over for a DUI. O.o

ow.

My right wrist is starting to hurt due to overmousing during the past week, so I'm trying to mouse with my left hand. It's not as much of a fiasco as it is if I try to write with my left hand, but it's still slow and clumsy. (I know from experience not to reverse the mouse buttons -- my brain attaches "left click" to the button, and not the finger that performs the click.) Any guesses on how long I would have to do it before the new neuron connections would form that would allow me to do it with the same dexterity I have with my right hand?

And if the species were predominantly left-handed, would I have worded that sentence as "...allow me to do it with the same sinisterness I have with my left hand"?


p.s. I used to go by "sinister dexter" on alt.gothic back in the late 1990s. Some people thought I was making a Dexter's Laboratory reference. (...."sinister"? ok, he's a mad scientist, but "sinister"?) Some also thought I was male, although with an implied name of "Dexter" and a lack of talking about specifically female subjects (like menstruation), I can see why.

ow.

My right wrist is starting to hurt due to overmousing during the past week, so I'm trying to mouse with my left hand. It's not as much of a fiasco as it is if I try to write with my left hand, but it's still slow and clumsy. (I know from experience not to reverse the mouse buttons -- my brain attaches "left click" to the button, and not the finger that performs the click.) Any guesses on how long I would have to do it before the new neuron connections would form that would allow me to do it with the same dexterity I have with my right hand?

And if the species were predominantly left-handed, would I have worded that sentence as "...allow me to do it with the same sinisterness I have with my left hand"?


p.s. I used to go by "sinister dexter" on alt.gothic back in the late 1990s. Some people thought I was making a Dexter's Laboratory reference. (...."sinister"? ok, he's a mad scientist, but "sinister"?) Some also thought I was male, although with an implied name of "Dexter" and a lack of talking about specifically female subjects (like menstruation), I can see why.