We make a little history, baby

Prayers to Broken Stone
Words today: 1010
Words total: 12,470
Reason for stopping: bedtime
Sustenance: tazo chai
Exercise: weights and a teeny bit of gothercise
Assistance: Epic Kjitten Struggle on the bed. Fafnir crossed the boundary of the holmgang, so Siggy won by default.
Typo du jour: Little more than smoke-shadows, wind through bare feet... (That should be bare trees.)
Darling: The ghosts slide out of the ruined tree like smoke, a cool draft in warm darkness.

I discovered I have MovieMaker on this computer. I still have those Firefly DVDs... Someone restrain me before I make a Firefly vid set to The Ship Song.

One lump or two?

This morning, we've secretly replaced Amanda's eyelids with sandpaper. Let's see if she notices!

must...survive...till coffee break...

Someone regale me with tales of glory and wonder to keep me awake?

ETA: I survived. Now the power of cappuccino and cranberry muffin courses through my veins. But keep regaling me, please.

Traitors with tits

Via wicked_wish, check out leftist_cunt.

BPAL!

My first order is here! Yog and Azzie and four free imps. Hurrah!

Reports to follow.

BPAL Review I

I've never reviewed perfume before, so bear with me.

( Read more... )

Reviews of Hunger, Delphi, and Les Fleurs du Mal to follow, when the fumes clear.

The Soap You Cannot Use

As Steven and I continued our discussion of my imps, I remarked that Yog Sothoth shouldn't smell like your grandmother's bathroom. Steven concurred, comparing the lavender smell to the little floral-shaped soaps that are only there to look pretty.

And hence Yog Sothoth's new epithet was born.

Yog Sothoth, the Lurker at the Threshold, the Soap You Cannot Use.