"Save A Pretzel For The Gas Jets!"

I told Trooper – the security team simply must get tshirts made with that exclamation on them for a photo-op. That, and The Man should add this video to his own Youtube site. It’s that damned funny. And not in the crude or cruel way we’ve all braced ourselves for of late – but a genuinely hilarious send-up.

Well done. Very well done.

Playing Dress-up

What can I tell you? Every outfit is a costume to me. It’s true – every workday outfit is selected with a kind of set design in mind – who will I be working with today and what impression is needed?

But I really enjoy the coming holiday when one can just let loose with that desire to be Other. If you’ve the same need, I can recommend these folks without reservation.

Armstreet

I acquired this number for our Ren Fest trips. It is flat out amazing. The flax fabric is sturdy but also light enough for summer wear.

Better still, they’ve a sale and I can assure you that you will not be unhappy with either the quality or the fit – everything is made to measure so you can expect it to take about a month, overall, to get your item. However, it is absolutely worth it. This is particularly useful for the wench that would prefer her assets remained restrained to meet the local norms. So many costumes are made cheaply and “one size fits no one, really”. You will not find that to be the case with these folks.

Be sure to order early if you’ve a New Years event. Not sure they can get it to you for Halloween but…maybe!

They also offer all manner of fun stuff for guys…

BTW, guys – no woman would be upset at receiving a delicate flaxen gown…after all, we all have a secret princess inside. Even if she does sometimes smell like CLP.

Sunday Schooled

It was an amusing morning. At one point Trooper was antagonizing Kota, giving a kind of mock attack – bending over and across the sofa to get in her face…she gave him a left to the jaw so fast and hard that her paw was a blur while his surprised face remained clearly etched in space as he fell backward in slow motion. I worried for a moment that her amazingly large and sharp claws had gouged out his cheek or, ack, his eye. Then I laughed so hard I couldn’t breath.

That’ll learn him.

Later, I saw this on the site of the person I’d most like to hear sing.

Amazing artistry…and the costume! Oh, you know those do not come cheap. Lovely…

Last night, Trooper told me he was having a hankering for his Appalachian home. Seems this was remembered and rediscovered – the way he spent his youthful Sunday mornings before church. Look at that hair! And the clothes…goodness.

I suppose it all started from this. I love that music and we watched it the other evening…but then he found this lovely voice and we spent some time enjoying her this morning before he had to get ready to go. (He keeps laughing at the little boys’ comment at the start…)

All of it a reminder of home, of being gone so long, of a yearning for a green and fresh world after a year so bereft of any such thing. There is an avenue – just past Highland – where the trees bend over and drop their autumn gold on the road. I ache to see them falling like rain…

Deeper Look

I had tried to find this video a few times and gave up, forgetting after awhile…and I don’t know why this isn’t shown instead of…the rest.

Minute 35-37 has the most awful, terrible price in audible evidence.

This is what we are supposed to believe is caused by our actions abroad, by the blood left there, the schools built as a buttress against a future horror but to no avail…that delicate, soothing feminine component will never be allowed to step forward. The girls are broken, early, to ensure the men have nothing to care about.

You must remember that sound when someone tries to tell you we asked for it. You must remember that awful sound when you have doubt…when mercy tugs at your sleeve.

"So What You’re Saying Is I’m Old And Fat"

That is all I could hear in my mind as the doctor made her pronouncement. Just as I knew would happen, she decided that blood pressure meds were necessary. And it infuriated me.

The sheer anger that descended was an amalgamation of several things. It was a declaration of age, for one – that no matter how old I feel inside, the flesh is failing. It was a kind of Use By date stamped in my file. I have an expiration, of sorts, that I hadn’t really sensed before.

It was a pointed comment on working out – or not, as the case has been – this last month. I wanted to draw out my schedule, illustrate my life and how there IS NO TIME LEFT to me. She just blinked and said that we have to make time for ourselves. Really? How liberal of you. I’ve people to care for, dogs, a house, and a full time job so…yeah. All that Me time is gonna get carved out of that.

And it was a reminder – “Is that all there is?” – that what I have and know now is…not too damn much. But everytime I think that small thought, I can imagine charred foundations a few miles away. Which makes me feel old, fat, and fucking selfish.

I’m exhausted, folks. It has been a heinous month, this one isn’t getting better, and I could sleep for days…may as well start now.

(That whole hot chick video is making sense now, huh? Lure `em in with sex then crush them with pain. It’s a lot like marriage, this blogging thing.)