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Everything posted by Ghost-of-a-Chance
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So. Is it colder than a witch’s cunt where y’all are, too? No? Just us? Muh-zurr-uh’s done froze over, folks.
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Been sitting in the -40s all week with the bloody north wind. Well my fault for being in Manisnowba.
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@manta2g Think you need two of these… at least. And… ☕ ☕ ☕
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@manta2g, you do know that fully fifty percent of your fellow Canadians live well south of the 49th Parallel for a reason, don’t you?
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That moment when you keep hearing a soprano velociraptor playing one-sided Marco Polo out in the hallway and realize, oh, no, it’s just the Velcro cat wailing pitifully because you locked him out of the office.
Woozle. Because of course, it’s Woozle. Never mind that I locked him out because I have cramps, a headache, and writer’s block, and I don’t feel up to fending off his usual shenanigans. By Shenanigans, I mean shaking slobber everywhere, whining, trying to insinuate his fat butt between the desk and my rack, and trying to scale Mount Mom’s-Desk and causing a landslide.Kid, Mama needs to work! Stay in your box!
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Y’all, I couldn’t make this shit up if I tried. I’m editing a new chapter of A New Lease on Life <500 words at a time with ProWritingAid, and the Readability checker gave me such a double take I heard my neck crack. I posted a screenshot on Tumblr because pics or it didn’t happen.
An (admittedly wordy) paragraph got a hard to read flag. Everything is spelled correctly, but it has several big words regarding language and its various parts and traits. You know. Words like consonants, syllables, dialects, and pronunciation. Hard, however, seems excessive.
Right above this paragraph is one marked easy to read. The entire thing is written in (intentionally) misspelled Scots and Scots-Gaelic that gave the spelling and grammar checker a stroke…and it’s easy to read…
…what…the actual…fuck…
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While my husband fed the cats a moment ago, I squirted the younger one’s liquid medicine down his throat. Woozle, the little shit, let half the dose drip out of his mouth and roll down my shirt and shorts. I grumbled about it—because that medicine stains, turns into tar, and smells like rotten fish a roadkill—and what did Cold say?
”Well. Pussy likes to dribble.”
I married this clown. I married him. (He’s not wrong, though.)
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Using AI to edit your smut can be so wild. ProWritingAid decided that this sentence…
QuoteKai’e’ie is insatiable—ravenous, breath-stealing, and covetous—and its expression is primal and passionate fucking.
…needs this correction:
QuoteKai’e’ie is insatiable—ravenous, breath-stealing, and covetous—and its expression is primal and passionate about fucking.
I mean, sure, I’m as passionate about fucking as anyone, but that isn’t quite what I was going for there. I can only assume the algorithm assumed Kai’e’ie is a name rather than an emotion and that I was trying to make small talk instead of comparing two different emotional states—Kai’e’ie versus mi’lee’veez—related to intimacy. (Kai’e’ie’: combined from syllables from words meaning love, say, life, and bond; combined, the meaning is, literally love said, life-bound, or figuratively, without you, I die. The fictional people who created this word are apparently as dramatic as I can write them. Mi’lee’veez: the root words in their entirety and proper order mean my dream heart. Sappity-sap-sop, someone get a mop.)
This is what I get for creating a fictional language for my novel. 🙄 J.R.R., you’re a horrible influence.
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Our cats have access to two cat beds, several chairs, a couch, a couple boxes, a footrest, a beanbag, countless pillows and blankets, a sunny windowsill with a blanket in it, our bed, and a cat tree. The cats are permitted to have a cuddle, nap, or lazy moment in all of these places. If we don’t catch them first, there’s even a couple baskets of clean laundry that might be comfy.
…and Woozle wants to sleep on top of a flat of toilet paper jammed into a storage shelf.
Cats, man. You just can’t make sense of them.- Show previous comments 3 more
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No surprise to me – my cats always seem to have a new favorite thing to lie down in or on. We call it “surface of the week.”
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I no longer have cats, but my half-Maine Coon brothers, Toivo and Aino, preferred to nap on top of the kitchen cabinets, or in Toivo’s case, on the very small window ledge in the bathroom, after he’d swept it clear of offending shampoo bottles. Both of them would deign to sit in boxes, which was often complicated by their size, but Aino also liked to hide inside paper bags, which for some reason offended Toivo no ends. The battle to free Aino could last for a good half hour before the paper bag was in tatters.
They weren’t fond of my feet (unlike my corgi who has cost me several years of lifespan when she stealth-licks my ankles) but Toivo liked to give me large, dead horseflies. They were placed carefully on the pillow next to my head.
I miss having cats...
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Mine? Starts with me hearing the high pitch noises, find the Queen having kittens, so I claimed half the litter (three of six). Seventeen years later, I still have one of them with me (the other two have ventured across the rainbow bridge).
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My smartass husband almost doomed us all. He’s eating animal crackers and found a cookie that appeared to be two different critters stuck together. What’s he suggest? ”Hey. Think we can fix this chimera with alchemy?”
No, Cold. HAYELL no. We are not breaking the alchemical taboo in twenty-twenty-anything, this is not the decade to risk it! There are two whole anime series about just why we don’t mess around with that!
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We ordered Chinese tonight, and got a broken fortune cookie. My husband’s response? “Now that’s a misfortune right there.”
I’m choking on my chicken, people.
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I’ve got another zinger from hubs to share! A few minutes ago, I was chatting with Cold about my plants in the window and I said, “I mean, those two need repotting already. They must really like this southern exposure!”This guy. This absolute smartass. He looked at me with a completely innocent face and said, “yeah, but I don’t know how they can stand the accent.”…y’all. Cold has a southern accent.
Yes, I choked on my spit. That mouth of his makes me so stinking proud sometimes. -
I wanted to share a real zinger for anyone who needs a laugh today. For this to make sense, you need to know three things: 1, I'm bi with a very supportive straight husband; 2, I'm in the closet IRL because of homophobic loved ones, and 3, I'm "out" online under my pen name. Oh, and 4, my husband Cold is an adorable smartass.
I spent some time today working in our big hall closet, up on a stepladder. When I heard Cold come through the front door, I warned him to be careful coming through the hallway because "I'm kinda in the closet."
"Kinda?" he retorted. "You're entirely in the closet."
I could hear the unspoken bi joke like a cat hearing a can opener. "I'm only in the closet IRL," I reminded him, "online, everyone and their gay stepdog knows I'm bi."
Cold poked his head around the door. "Either you're in the closet or you're out of the closet," he teased me. "You can't be both. You're not Schrodinger's bi."And that's how I realized it is entirely possible to laugh yourself right off a ladder, and that, despite getting older, Cold IS still able to catch me before I can fall on my oversized rump. I'm still grinning about this, and it's been over an hour!
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That guy is definitely a keeper! Schrodinger’s bi, indeed.
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- JayDee, BronxWench, InvidiaRed and 1 other
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He’s perfect!
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- Ghost-of-a-Chance and JayDee
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Knock yourself out, @InvidiaRed! I told him I’m stealing it, too, so he’s been warned. @WillowDarkling and @BronxWench he is a hoot, let me tell you that! I’ve gotten some real tongue-choking jokes from him in our eleven years but Schrodinger’s bi may just top them.
Earlier this week, I complained about finding inch-worms destroying my plants. His response? Paraphrased, “I hate inchworms. They need to learn some assertiveness instead of always inching around like they’re expecting to get stepped on.” I. Just. About. Died.
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Well. It took close to a year and a half but we finally know why I’ve been having nerve pain and numbness and struggling to stand and walk. The ‘why’ is not an easily fixed condition (...possibly not “fixable” at all, from the sound of it...) but having an explanation for the problem is the first step on the path forward. I can’t even express how relieved I am to have physical proof that what I’ve been struggling with wasn’t just in my head; the fact that such was bothering me as strongly as it was should say something about how folks with invisible disabilities are often treated in the US.
I’m still stuck with walking with a cane for now. There are also orthotics, braces, medication, and routine specialist visits added to the equation now. I’m not crazy about that...but I’ll live. At least it’s not neuropathy and there’s a chance of some improvement with treatment, and so long as those two statements are true, I’m sure I can find a way to not whine too much. It’s a bonus that the medication I’m on now is helping with my bad knee (why I had the cane, to begin with) and I’ve got a very courteous and understanding doctor taking care of me. Maybe now that the testing and waiting are over, I’ll have a little more free time. If so, maybe I’ll be more able to use said free time for writing and updating. In the meantime, it’s good to be back on here even if only occasionally.
Anyway. Dropping off the face of the earth without warning is kind of normal for me but...well...this is why I’ve been exceeding my usual DOtFotE statistics. In the coming months, if I get unusually bristly on here, say something unfriendly, or come across as short or rude, I apologize profusely in advance. I’m hanging in here the best I can...but...frankly, my nerves are compressed and sending pain and itching signals through otherwise healthy tissue, and there’s not a whole lot I can do when it gets really bad. There are days when it’s so bad I just want to cuss a blessed blue streak, cry, or both at once. Generally, I try to stay offline on days like that but they’ve snuck up on me before. If it happens, please be patient with me and let me know I’ve been a dick (because I probably won’t even realize it until later on when I’m trying to sleep) and I’ll apologize for it.
Until next time, I hope everyone’s having a comfortable and safe spring, and wish y’all the best.
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Porg-give me if this is out of line, but I wanted to show off the little buddy my hubby got me for Christmas last year. Folks, if you’re looking for love, find you someone who respects your nerdities and odditudes.
Y’all can keep y’all’s his and hers towels; in this home we have Pikachu and Porgs.
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Quote
Y’all can keep y’all’s his and hers towels; in this home we have Pikachu and Porgs.
You got very Southern there for a moment.
That is a really sweet gift! I hope some day I can be married to someone like that!
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Quote
You got very Southern there for a moment.
In my defense, I was born and raised in Missouri maybe an hour from the M’Arkansas border, and I still live in the same region. Missouri is Southern enough for the awkward stuff like accent but too far north for the sweet tea to taste good.
QuoteThat is a really sweet gift! I hope some day I can be married to someone like that!
It really was just the sweetest thing, really. I grew up in a family where fannish behavior was supposed to be kept secret and treated as an embarrassment. When Cold started bringing his Playstation and anime over for dates I knew I hit gold. Honey, if you can, try to find you a man (or woman, or both, or neither, or ancient eldritch entity, etc) who respects your inner nerd and lets theirs out around you. I hope you can find someone who appreciates you for who you are, too. It’s worth everything in the world when you can be dorks together.
By the way? We’ve been together 11 years this April, he regularly lets me pull the “rubber ducky” maneuver on him when I’m stumped on a scene, and I’ve taken up gaming with him on occasion. He’s my favorite dork and I’m his favorite nerd, and it’s just what we both needed.
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