BronxWench

Happy Birthday, love    

Happy Birthday, love    

Happy Birthday, love    

For the first day of Christmas, a true love OUGHT to give a spammer’s head in a pear tree.

Who do you think would win?

Tis the season for Santa’s Workshop to be bought out by a Wall Street private equity firm.

Tis the season for Santa’s Workshop to be bought out by a Wall Street private equity firm.

Editorial Review came back.

So I was correct to put mature warning. They enjoyed it… For a middle novel.

So before I launch any website I have to go back and revamp it so it fits a first book feel

rather than a middle of the series vibe.

I have never been so insulted as when a cousin brought vegan turkey to thanksgiving. I woke up at 4 to get started and this person brings vegan turkey… And no no one is vegan in the family.

Words were said.

I have never been so insulted as when a cousin brought vegan turkey to thanksgiving. I woke up at 4 to get started and this person brings vegan turkey… And no no one is vegan in the family.

Words were said.

Thanksgiving turkey recap:  It was tasty/delicious, didn’t bother with gravy based on the QA taste test

Being single & celebrating by myself, I opted for a turkey breast (which is less than a full bird).  Started this on Monday, when I let the thing soak in a bath of orange juice mixed with sugar, salt, & spices.  Yesterday, fired up the propane meat smoker, used cherry wood chips, let it sit for four hours inside.  (Also had some chicken thighs along for extra meat to enjoy later.)  Only mistake, didn’t fully dump all the OJ bath out, so it was still in the cavity at hour three, dumped that then … so at that exact spot, it was a tad under cooked despite the rest being well-done (I’ll get it with the microwave on leftovers).

All in all, quite pleased with how it turned out.  Quite moist, tender, and bursting in flavor with every bite, hence the decision to skip the hassle over gravy.  Carcass is now in the freezer, I’ll take it out once I’m inthe mood for turkey soup.

Thanksgiving turkey recap:  It was tasty/delicious, didn’t bother with gravy based on the QA taste test

Being single & celebrating by myself, I opted for a turkey breast (which is less than a full bird).  Started this on Monday, when I let the thing soak in a bath of orange juice mixed with sugar, salt, & spices.  Yesterday, fired up the propane meat smoker, used cherry wood chips, let it sit for four hours inside.  (Also had some chicken thighs along for extra meat to enjoy later.)  Only mistake, didn’t fully dump all the OJ bath out, so it was still in the cavity at hour three, dumped that then … so at that exact spot, it was a tad under cooked despite the rest being well-done (I’ll get it with the microwave on leftovers).

All in all, quite pleased with how it turned out.  Quite moist, tender, and bursting in flavor with every bite, hence the decision to skip the hassle over gravy.  Carcass is now in the freezer, I’ll take it out once I’m inthe mood for turkey soup.

I have never been so insulted as when a cousin brought vegan turkey to thanksgiving. I woke up at 4 to get started and this person brings vegan turkey… And no no one is vegan in the family.

Words were said.

Looks like I finally got around my browser issues.  Now to reset up email

Death penalty for spammers, anybody got an issue with this?

Well, having failed all conservative treatment options, I’ll be setting up for chemotherapy for this oddball immune system of mine.  Wish me luck!

Welp, I can say for a fact now that intubation sucks really mfing bad. Other than that my surgery went well and some tall dude nurse got to help me put my panties back on...wasn’t in my prime tho.

I absolutely cannot wait until I get this surgery done on my hands and am incapable of doing anything for myself! Said no one ever.

The word order

I want my money back!  Third COVID shot so far, no super powers. 

I had a very close relative die in the summer and it’s kind of broken me too, as self-centred as it sounds when they’re the one who died, but I gotta try and move on a bit. Hoping to catch up on reading soon, especially the new halloween story jam you’ve got going on.

M Denis Villeneuve had best be working on Dune Part Two, or I shall hunt him down, remove his liver with my bare hands, and offer it to the Morrigan.

And yes, Part One was an enormous improvement over David Lynch’s effort, although I might had chosen differently for the role of Lady Jessica. But by and large, c’est incroyable!

Went to a toy store to buy a birthday present for niece, paternal unit asked if there were any spiders there. Went to the grocery store, found plastic spiders and bought them for the paternal unit. He’s 69 years old and walking around with a plastic spider on his finger.

Ye gods I need applicants where I work.  Arrrrghhh 

Not fiction, this happened in my house recently--

It was a dark and stormy night, in a great big house.  Thunderclouds had swirled down from the north and were dumping the rain.

On the phone I had just talked with Jenny--who, with our son, was out-of-state on their road trip to see a massive museum.

I was in my recliner sitting quietly a moment because I was ready to go to bed.  The dark filled every room, all but disregarding a few puny battery-powered candles:  Left the only soul in the house, I was downshifting for sleep.

Power briefly flashed out. The kitchen clock winked--otherwise I wouldn't have missed power, since I'd already had the lights out.

But over the din of the pounding storm, I made out some grating noises and then--footfalls.  In our bedroom, over my head.

In my mind I inventoried what had caused this big house to creak like that from time to time.  Creaking I could explain, yeah.

But there were also the little dull impacts.

Unmistakably, movement upstairs. It sounded exactly like Jenny getting out of bed and walking across the floor--a sound I knew well from repetition, having heard it here above my head-- sometimes every morning in a week--yes indeed: footfalls !

But with Jenny in Ohio, then: who?

The noise was, beyond my doubt now, a presence upstairs.  I froze to stone not wanting to be detected—trying to reassure myself thinking:  It’s the noise of the storm—that’s nothing upstairs  ! 

And when would that Nothing--responsible for what almost was starting to sound like distant angry bangs and thumps--descend the stairs, coming this way?

Starting to hear my heart in my ears, I mentally rejoined the presence by trying to reduce it to some mundane cause I knew--finding it nuts--

Because nobody--especially in a pounding storm--breaks into the TOP floor, while rain slides off the roof and sheets down windows.

Over the roar of the storm, I finally caught a distinctive sound: A plastic case, wheels on an axle jarring with an impact. 

Our vacuum 'droid was loose.

I'd been petrified by what I found to have been the noise of his slamming into furniture like a drunken bad actor who hadn't rehearsed his action scene.

The power spike had jolted his dumb plastic butt right off the battery charger.

And in the dark and fury of the storm, he was--

 VACUUMING.