Ghost-of-a-Chance
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Status Updates posted by Ghost-of-a-Chance
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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.-
Your husband is utterly brilliant. Seriously demented, and utterly brilliant.
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I feel the same, always.
I’d never tell him, but I wish I were as skilled with on-the-fly wordplay as he is. I get to brag about him online, though, so I’m not disappointed. 
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that is too funny! made my night
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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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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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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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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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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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Welcome to the world that also guides youtube’s AI-generated recommendations.
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I’m enjoying AI art personally at this point. It’s far from perfect but it’s solid.
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AI art can be great, especially if you’re wanting some visualization for a scene you’re writing but you’re not an artist.
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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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Good puns are appreciated here
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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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Guess I’m a bit… don’t have a great opinion about bots, so I focus on human readability over some electromechanical Turk.
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