Topics

http://worstcats.tumblr.com/?og=1

I think the guy is on to something here, with how to tell which cats are bad and which are good.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2014/09/12/local-grandmother-quilts-_n_5804194.html?ncid=fcbklnkushpmg00000063

Yes, a real life, Kansas City-based grandma has turned her passion for free love into an art endeavor that's certainly got our blood pumping. It's called "Local Grandmother Quilts Giant Penises" and it encapsulates so many of the things we cherish in this sweet, short life: sex positivity, fiber crafts and badass women of a certain age.

Stewart's exhibition is currently on view at the University of Missouri-Kansas City, a vision made reality thanks to a Kickstarter initiative with one of the greater names in Kickstarter history. Again, "Local Grandmother Quilts Giant Penises." In the video below, Stewart explains how her interest in decorative members sparked from her time working in a sex toy factory.

I know what I'm doing with my fabric and yarn scraps now. This is going to be amazeballs. Also, I want to be a dildo de-molder. O.O

*salutes proudly*

[Check.]

First you need break-up music. Check.

Next you need a fortifying beverage to shore out the leaky contents of your broken heart. And to replenish your supply of bitter, bitter emo tears. I choose Pepsi. He's drinking whiskey like Kool-Aid. And mixing it with his medications. Whatever. CHECK.

Then you need eye-candy, something to get you back into the game. Oh yeah. After a sufficient amount of time has passed, of course. CHECKERDOODLES!

I give you, ladies and gentlemen and other beings, ROBERT DOWNEY JR. PIN-UPS.

OH YEAH!

http://pin-up-rdj.tumblr.com

http://www.npr.org/blogs/thetwo-way/2014/07/03/328163481/purling-in-anger-arrest-breaks-up-knit-in-at-vermont-utility

Jane Palmer, a diminutive woman in a floral-print dress and a straw hat, was arrested about 30 minutes after the offices closed.

"Palmer was knitting what appeared to be a turquoise scarf, and had knitted about 8 inches of it before Vermont Gas closed at 5 p.m.," VPR's Taylor Dobbs reports.

"It is unclear if she was allowed to continue her knitting at the police station," he adds.

"I was incensed because I feel like they're trying to intimidate and bully people into not protesting," Palmer said, "if you think you're gonna have a record and you're going to have to go to jail or whatever. Law-abiding citizens do not like to be threatened with being arrested."

Gettin' mah emo on. Woo. Lotta crap songs in this mix. Still looking for decent shit.

The Pussycat Dolls - I Hate This Part

Beyoncé - Irreplaceable

Blondie - Heart of Glass

Christina Perri - Jar of Hearts

Coldplay - Fix You

Kelly Clarkson - Stronger

Gotye - Somebody That I Used To Know

Adele - Rolling in the Deep

P!nk - Funhouse

P!nk - There You Go

I found the perfect coffee mug for you!



Or you could go with this one :

Or has at least happened once?

http://www.theguardian.com/society/2014/mar/27/first-documented-cat-human-tb-infection?CMP=twt_gu

Two people were found to have developed active TB after close contact with cats last year following an outbreak involving nine animals in west Berkshire and Hampshire. They are said to be responding to treatment. Two other people were found to have latent TB, meaning they had been exposed to the disease at some point but it was not active.

The outbreak of the disease in cats, caused by a strain known as Mycobacterium bovis (M bovis), came to light via a veterinary practice, and led to screening being offered to 39 people, 24 of whom accepted. Six of the nine cats were put down, three were treated.

Yet another exciting advancement in the field of Let's Kill the Humans! I think it's all part of the eventual feline uprising. My cat Ma'at has been giving me the hairy eyeball ever since I refused to fish her catnip mousie out from under my couch for the eleventh time in ten minutes. I know she's plotting evil. It's either TB or peeing on my yarn.

http://www.nytimes.com/2014/02/12/arts/shirley-temple-black-screen-star-dies-at-85.html?_r=0

Shirley Temple Black, who as a dimpled, precocious and determined little girl in the 1930s sang and tap-danced her way to a height of Hollywood stardom and worldwide fame that no other child has reached, died on Monday night at her home in Woodside, Calif. She was 85.

I loved her movies as a kid.

This is for you. And anyone else watching the Olympics.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-6RID82Ru-k#t=36

"Winter 2014"  Snerk

http://www.google.org/publicalerts/alert?aid=5308d6afd86787ec&hl=en&gl=US&source=web

http://www.foxnews.com/weather/2014/01/28/southerners-warned-to-prepare-for-messy-snow-and-ice/

http://www.cnn.com/2014/01/29/us/georgia-alabama-stranded-buses-schoolchildren/

"Snow-stranded"

http://music.yahoo.com/news/insane-clown-posse-sue-fbi-over-juggalos-39-153022908-rolling-stone.html

Horrorcore-rap duo Insane Clown Posse, along with four fans, are suing the Department of Justice and the FBI, demanding that the agencies purge the fan name "Juggalos" from their list of gang members. "Organized crime is by no means part of the Juggalo culture," reads the complaint, filed this morning in federal court in Detroit.

http://usnews.nbcnews.com/_news/2013/12/27/22075945-sc-woman-charged-with-stabbing-husband-with-a-ceramic-squirrel?lite

According to the police report, Williams' 41-year-old husband set out to buy some beer late Tuesday night, but he returned home empty-handed because the stores were closed.

That enraged Williams, according to the report, and as her husband set about making himself a sandwich, she picked up the ceramic squirrel and conked him over the head with it. Then she stabbed him in the chest with it, the report said.

Good gentlefolk, you may have a problem with the booze if you shank your SO with a ceramic figurine because no beer. That is all.

http://shine.yahoo.com/parenting/texas-father-barred-taking-pregnant-wife-off-life-200600388.html

On Nov. 26, Erick Munoz woke to the sound of his year-old son crying and found his 14-weeks-pregnant wife, Marlise, lying on the kitchen floor, blue in the face and without a pulse. A firefighter and paramedic, Munoz called 911 and performed CPR, to no avail. When they arrived at the John Peter Smith Hospital (JPS) in Fort Worth, Texas, he thought he would have to make an agonizing decision: refuse life support even though that meant losing both his wife and his future child.

When Munoz first arrived at the hospital, he discovered that, according to Texas law, life-sustaining procedures may not be withheld or withdrawn from a pregnant woman, — even if she has an advance health care directive (also called a living will) stipulating that she does not want to be kept alive on a machine.

This thing where women aren't people, just baby incubators, is really fucking annoying.

http://io9.com/paul-dini-superhero-cartoon-execs-dont-want-largely-f-1483758317

DINI: "They're all for boys 'we do not want the girls', I mean, I've heard executives say this, you know, not [where I am] but at other places, saying like, 'We do not want girls watching this show."

So basically because girls buy princesses and too many girls were watching Young Justice, they cancelled it. Because Young Justice can't sell the toys if too may girls watch. Because girls buy princesses and not action figures. Because all they can sell is the toys. Not t-shirts or anything else. Just the toys. Yep. Damn you, girls.

http://worldnews.nbcnews.com/_news/2013/12/05/17500450-nelson-mandela-dead-at-95

Nelson Mandela, the revered South African anti-apartheid icon who spent 27 years in prison, led his country to democracy and became its first black president, died Thursday at home. He was 95.
"He is now resting," said South African President Jacob Zuma. "He is now at peace."
"Our nation as lost his greatest son," he continued. "Our people have lost their father."
A state funeral will be held.

I can't decide. Cruel yarn abuse or thought-provoking craftivism?

NSFW : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q6RZZf6HMzo

http://www.rawstory.com/rs/2013/10/16/drunk-florida-man-sets-self-on-fire-while-lighting-halloween-cross-burning-prank/

Palm Bay police described the incident as a "prank" that included using candles and gasoline to light a wooden cross along the side of his home.

"It started as some kind of prank apparently and involved a wooden cross," Martinez explained. "We don't know if he was trying to light the cross or the candles but when he did, his clothes caught fire."

http://blogs.scientificamerican.com/urban-scientist/2013/10/11/give-trouble-to-others-but-not-me/

Sorry if this is a repost. Didn't find another thread.

It wasn't just that he called me a whore – he juxtaposed it against my professional being: Are you urban scientist or an urban whore? Completely dismissing me as a scientist, a science communicator (whom he sought for my particular expertise), and someone who could offer something meaningful to his brand.What? Now, I'm so immoral and wrong to inquire about compensation? Plus, it was obvious me that I was supposed to be honored by the request..

Duuuude. What is it with people thinking if they throw fancy names around, others will roll over and beg to give up their time and energy for free . . . and then getting butthurt when that doesn't happen?

Welcome your new neighbor to Boycottsville, Barilla. Say hello, Barilla.

http://tv.msnbc.com/2013/09/26/pasta-barilla-boycotted-after-ceos-homphobic-remarks/

Gay rights groups are boycotting Pasta Barilla after the company's CEO, Guido Barilla, said Wednesday on an Italian radio show, "I would never do an advert with a homosexual family." Barilla went on to say that his company's gay customers could go elsewhere if they didn't like his stance.

But wait! There's more!

"I apologize if my words generated misunderstandings or arguments, or if they offended the sensibilities of some people," he said. The statement also said Barilla was trying to explain the company's view that "the woman plays a central role in the family."

The pasta boss made the anti-LGBT comments while he was answering a question about the stereotypical image of women in Italian advertisements. Barilla said that the company's advertisements featured "the concept of the sacred family."

"Ours is a classic family where the woman plays a fundamental role," Barilla said.

I am suitably entertained.

Okay so there's this article in xoJane. http://www.xojane.com/relationships/stop-saying-i-have-a-boyfriend

Basic gist is that women need to stop claiming they have boyfriends to curb unwanted male attention. This is a bad thing that implies women can't decide things for themselves and a man already has a claim on them and etc.

To quote :

It completely removes the agency of the woman, her ability to speak for herself and make her own decisions regarding when and where the conversation begins or ends. It is basically a real-life example of feminist theory at work–women (along with women's choices, desires, etc.) being considered supplemental to or secondary to men, be it the man with whom she is interacting or the man to whom she "belongs" (see the theory of Simone de Beauvoir, the story of Adam and Eve, etc.).

And the worst part of the whole situation is that we're doing this to ourselves.

Fine and dandy.

However.

A rebuttal article went up on xoJane. http://www.xojane.com/issues/why-just-telling-street-harassers-no-doesnt-necessarily-work-for-everybody

It points out that just straight up saying 'no' or 'not interested' can put a woman in danger.

Ms. Eberhardt is spot on when she writes about the idiocy of leaving an uninterested woman alone only after she says she's taken; it does remove the level of respect that should be given to her, and it totally erases her agency.

But when Ms. Eberhardt admonishes women for making excuses to would-be suitors, she's unwittingly placing the responsibility squarely on the victim, as if the guys with the entitlement issues aren't the real problem. It's this type of naivete and myopia that make conversations about racialized misogyny so, so crucial.

Skepchick has chimed in, too. http://skepchick.org/2013/09/boyfriend/

In my experience, many men take any kind of response from a woman they're hitting on, any kind of reaction at all, to be good. The theory that all publicity is good publicity is not lost on those kind. By saying "no" to a man like that, a woman is acknowledging his presence and the fact that he is hitting on her, which, alone, is a win for him. He could take it as a challenge, a reason to engage and pursue, an opportunity to debate the woman as to his merits as a man.

Other men take it further and believe that a no is merely a yes in disguise. A "no" will mean escalation, often into the physical: cornering, following/stalking, groping, and so on. Still other men take it even further, interpreting the "no" as a challenge to their manhood and a personal insult to them. Reactions range from insults ("you're not even that hot! no wonder you're single, turning down a good dude like me!") to threats ("I'll show you what a real man is!") to physical violence (grabbing, pushing, shoving) to various forms of sexual assault (so-called "corrective rape" is an extreme, LGBT-specific example of this).

I think blaming women for some mens inability to take a 'no' with grace is complete bullshit and I don't think it's wrong to use the boyfriend excuse. It isn't optimal or ideal but what is?

I found your day job.



Writing gay shapeshifting cuttlefish romance novels. For shame, sir. For shame.



ETA: Save all that fabulous for BIP2013 :P

The abandoned subdivision that partly inspired the Lively Acres story has a few interesting features.

These first three pictures were taken last winter¹. Most of these are going to be blurry because I do not have steady hands at all. And my balance has been extra shit since the car accident. Sorry. The title is kind of a warning.



At the far point of this here cul-de-sac there's a trail.



This trail is a loooooooooong downward stretch that leads here :



If you follow the water there's a waterfall and some other shit. I need to explore this more. But I didn't get that far today. Instead, I got a few shots of the upper part.



I like how there's one working street light in that whole mess.





And open sewer access.



That curve of pavement is another part of the abandoned subdivision . . . three subdivisions over. It goes on for acres and acres back there.

Here's my favorite shot.



My grandma was an amature photographer. And this picture reminds me of her photos.

Anyway, there you go. Shitty pictures of the SubDivision That Time Forgot. I'll explore it some more another day.

Some other things I've seen involve random piles of mattresses, paint graffiti on the pavement, and a pile of old Christmas trees.

I am very tempted to set up a psuedo Satanic ritual in one of the cul-de-sacs and see what happens when the neighborhood kids find it, but one of the Uber-Christian mothers would probably burn the whole area down trying to drive out the devil.

¹ By 'winter' I mean 'Georgia's extended Fall that substitutes for the real thing'.

You can be anything.

Right? Anything you want to do or be, you can. Because you live in America. And in America, that's the guarantee. You can come up from nothing and do anything. Be anything. Blaze new trails and rise to glory with minimal effort. Sure, there's work. But it's honest work that enriches you and everyone around you.

So it's worth it. If you just try real hard and want it bad enough, you'll get whatever you want. And reach all your goals.

Just do your best, honey. That's all anyone can ask.



No, you can't have the blue bag. That's for boys. Girls get pink. There you are, quit crying. Everyone knows girls like pink best. Go play dolls with your friends. Oh, they're playing with blocks? Well. Go ahead, but don't neglect your dolly. It will die without your love and care. I swear. What girl plays with blocks?

But don't go outside wearing those clothes, you whore. Wipe off all that make-up, what do you want people to think you're a tramp? March yourself upstairs right now and wash out that hair-dye. No child of mine is going to go out looking like a freak.

Tattoos? Piercings? Self-expression? Who the hell do you think you are? While you are living under my roof, you will obey my rules.

That's just how the world works. When you're all grown up and living on your own, you can do whatever you want. But while you're here with me, you won't make me look bad by doing things I don't understand and can't explain away to my friends as 'just a phase' or 'such a sweet child, really'.



I wish you'd just try harder to be nice, dear. You'll never catch a husband if you don't change your attitude. Don't you think you'd be happier if everyone liked you? All you have to do is just smile and stop making such a fuss about every little thing. So your sister stole your favorite necklace and lost it. It's just an object. Nothing in the larger scheme of things. So your brother read your diary and then flushed each page down the toilet.

You shouldn't have secrets anyway, as young as you are. All that thinking and pining will chase the men away. Go upstairs and put on some moisturizer. And quit frowning! You don't want wrinkles. And when was the last time you shaved your legs, dear? They look a bit Brillo-pad-ish. Who is going to want to snuggle up against you and steal a kiss when their skin or clothes will get shredded in the process? Don't forget your pits, too.



Well why did you go into this career anyway? You knew men dominated this field and got all the best jobs and best pay. You're a woman. You should do something else, like teaching. That's a good calling. Or a nurse. Your grandma was a nurse now why isn't that good enough for you? Why do you want to build things and make things better and blow things up? I swear, sometimes I don't know where I went wrong with you. What about veterinarians? They make good money and you like kittens, right? And you wouldn't have to go to school for half as long, would you? Oh, you'd have to go longer? Well. You could just marry and settle down. I'd like grand children before I die, you know.

Fine, do what you want, but don't come crying to me when you get hurt or can't find a job. No one wants women engineer-whatsits. You should have thought about this more carefully. How are you going to have kids and keep a husband happy if you're always working and always dirty and always away from home instead of making a happy little haven for your man and offspring?



See what happens when you're so stand-off-ish? You spent all that time chasing dreams and fighting against the natural order of things that now you're all tired and washed up. You don't even put any effort into looking nice. No make-up. No dresses. No nice shoes. That's why you can't find a man. I wish you'd quit that job. No amount of money is worth being alone for the rest of your life. Just because you sit in that fancy office doesn't mean you're too good to meet someone nice. Just don't be too intimidating, dear. Men don't like it when you're more powerful than they are.

What do you mean you need space? I'm your mother. How can you say something so cruel and hurtful? Live your life? What does that mean? You are living your life. I need therapy? ME? I need therapy? Oh honey. I haven't said one thing about all the horrible mistakes you're making . . . hello? Hello? Honey? Come back. Mommy loves you.



Hello? Hello? Why did this happen? I tried so hard and gave her everything. And now I'm all alone. My husband left. My daughter abandoned me. I don't understand why I'm so alone. I tried so hard to be a good woman, a good mother . . .

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AIXUgtNC4Kc

http://www.buzzfeed.com/andrewkaczynski/is-this-the-most-embarrassing-interview-fox-news-has-ever-do

HILARIOUS.

This dude conducted an experiment where he'd get high and or smashed and then draw self-portraits.

http://www.artfido.com/blog/artist-conducts-experiment-where-he-draws-himself-while-on-different-drugs-and-alcohol/




That one was done while on shrooms. The rest are pretty interesting as well. I'm glad this guy did this so I didn't have to. It was always a project I thought would be interesting to attempt.

[REAL]

Dok Howl's 'utopian' writings not cutting your cheese? Real-life news stories getting you down?

Is the mere idea of getting off your couch to join the protesting masses making you break out into a cold sweat?

It's okay, Brother. Let me tell you about the REAL Future.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LPH9OYfsJAA


Isn't that better? Doesn't it make all your worries go away? It's okay. Sit back down. Have another Coke and an even bigger cheeseburger than last time. Everything is going to be A-OK.

The Future loves you.

Okay. Which one of you guys was 'sexyjos' ?

We will meet after dark.
I will wear jeans and a shirt. you will be dressed in an inappropriate dress or perhaps an equally inappropriate short skirt.We will kiss on first sight. Without reservation. No holding back, regardless of where we meet. A long, deep, delicious tongue wagging kiss.
Here is a list of things we probably should not do, but will do most of, if not all of: Whispering. Hand-holding. Long, deep public kissing, Stroking, Public displays of affection, even public sex.
It will probably be so amazing, we most likely find ourselves meeting again tomorrow night at about the same time. If you have any plans, any plans at all, you should probably clear your calendar even before responding to this post.
I'm good looking, Dominant, sensual, a gentleman, fun, charming and even sweet. Not for the meek, I'm all business about this. so hit me back and we can make our own 50 shades story!

Saw this posted on Tamora Pierce's blog. http://www.cjr.org/feature/womans_work.php?page=all

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eaMBagakSdM

SAY HELLO TO GENDERED CHEESE!

http://thesocietypages.org/socimages/2013/07/03/the-weird-new-world-of-girl-cheese/

The girl cheese is reduced fat. Because since she has to wear less clothes she has to have less fat or the boy cheese won't go surfing with her anymore. And that would make her a sad, pathetic waste of skim milk.

http://io9.com/hawkmoths-use-their-genitals-to-scare-off-bats-666105257

Now, scientists have discovered that at least three species of hawkmoths also produce ultrasonic sound in response to bat calls. But unlike their distantly related cousins, these moths produce the ultrasound using their genitals.

I blame Kai.

Did you think no one would notice? That we would remain ignorant and compliant? Well guess what, buster? You've got another thing coming. Even if you are delicious.

You've already taken over breakfast. And with Gogira's help you've conquered dinner.

Now you're going after snack time?

http://ripvanwafels.com/wafel/

http://www.vermontcountrystore.com/store/jump/productDetail/Food_&_Candy/Food_&_Candy/Dutch_Butter_Waffle_Candies_(Set_of_2_Bags)/H3968

http://www.amazon.com/Old-London-Waffle-Cheddar-4-5-Ounce/dp/B000H25UF6

Soon everything will be waffles. Houses, boats, birds, people . . . all waffles.

Also, hey Gogira : http://the-wilson-world.blogspot.com/2011/09/candy-corn-waffles.html Crazy waffle works.

http://www.humblebundle.com

This looked cool. Four books (plus two more if you pay higher than average) for name-your-price. And Humble Bundle lets you choose how much goes to the authors, how much goes to charity and how much Humble Bundle itself gets for bandwidth and such.

The charities involved are Child's Play and the Electronic Frontier Foundation.

I know Cherie Priest is a great author, I've got several of her books already. Cory Doctorow's "Little Brother" is on my to-read list. And I'm always looking for new authors so y'know, the rest are candy.

I think if I go through the couch cushions I can find $10 for this. Yessirree.

This is kinda old news but I didn't see it mentioned and thought it interesting.

http://www.catherinedeveny.com/columns/2013/6/13/equal-not.html

Equal approached Catherine Deveny about offering her comments on several different subjects that they would then use, along with her name, to promote the sweetener and in theory feminism and the choices women make. Only they weren't going to pay her. Just use her name and her comments and allow her to participate in the online real time debates. But hey, it would totally enhance her rep. For realsies.

We'll publicise these topics and your contribution, and invite all Australian women to join the online debate. We're hosting 2 live debates (similar to TED.com format) to which you're welcome to join the debating panel. What's more, if you would like to be available for media interviews or to launch trending topics, let us know and we'll incorporate you into our PR plan.

Unfortunately Equal cannot offer you cash for comment. However in exchange for your time, we will promote your contribution and profile alongside other influential Australian women such as Deborah Thomas, who has already agreed to take part.

So she ripped them a new one.

Joining a debate about the choices women make?

Here's the choice I make. Not to work for multinationals for free. Or any businesses. I am a single mum and I pay every single person who works for me.

Women are 50% of the population, do two thirds of the work, earn 10% of the money and  own 1% of the property.

And you have the gall to frame this opportunity to work for free as some kind of feminist jamboree. And why we are on gall, promoting a dieting aid with feminism? Excuse me while I throw up in my mouth. Sorry what? It's about health, lifestyle and choices. No it's not. It's about selling dissatisfication and self loathing. I think you've picked the WRONG GIRL.

She got a decent reply but I find the whole topic interesting and I wonder how it turned out.

New York Times has made a list of the supposedly 50 most challenging words but didn't define them or use them in context for fledgeling vocabulary aficionados. Joe Heitzeberg took one for the team and fixed the list up. I'm kinda sad at some of the words on this list.

http://www.currentlyobsessed.com/2010/06/15/new-york-times-50-most-challenging-words-defined-and-used/

'Austerity' and 'overhaul' are not difficult words. 'Nascent' and 'hubris' aren't either.

Anyway, it was a somewhat interesting read-through. "Baldenfreude" 

I wanna write like this guy, a little. He's got some vibrance in his words. Some savor in the meat :

http://www.pankmagazine.com/victory-music/

This is another good one :

http://www.pankmagazine.com/the-paste-and-scissors-man/

I might have to write a submission for these guys.

NSFW.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vftIGU8-uqs&feature=youtu.be

non-log-in-to-watch-link

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AxNwiWm3U0o

Here are three interesting things that have come to my attention.

One Story - One short story shipped every three weeks. No ads. No distractions. Just one story. Seems pretty cool. I'm going to give it a whirl. 15 stories a year. $21.

YarnBox - Monthly or every-other-monthly shipment of yarn, notions, and some small extras. OMG YARN. $33 - $39 a month, depending on payment options. They do not ship overseas yet, Pix. Sorry.

Graze - $5 for a box of four different snacks, shipping included. Ships every other week, pay per box. Roomie gets these and the boxes are really varied. Takes an invite code, though. I just signed up using roommate's so if it looks like something you really want to try, lemme know. Each person who signs up only gets one invite code to use at this time. Currently continental USA only.

http://www.writeaboutdragons.com/extra/2013-summer-class/

Beginning July 1 and going till September, this site will be hosting an online creative writing class featuring the recorded lectures of Brandon Sanderson. Brandon won't be participating directly (sorry folks if you were hoping to have him critique your stuff  ), but the format will be like this:

Begin outlining your story before the class begins July 1. This will help a lot. I recommend Brandon's lectures from last year on plot generation and characterization

Beginning July 1, every Monday, I'll post that week's lecture.

Optionally, throughout the week I'll post a couple "creative catalysts" you can respond to that consist of a flash fiction writing prompts focusing on a principle Brandon taught. They'll be constrained to around 250 words and are supposed to only represent 5 minutes of internal-editor-free writing to get your creative writerly muscles warmed up.

By each Thursday, you'll be expected to post a 1000 word submission to the specialized forum I have set up. I almost have it done, but suffice it to say it will look somewhat similar to Quora or Stackoverflow if you're familiar with those.

By Monday (in time for the next lecture), you should have critiqued at least 4 other students submissions.

By the end of the September (in 4 months), have have written 30,000 words, hopefully a complete novelette.

Some have asked about cost, and just like the site is now there will be no charge. I'm doing all of this for a masters degree project and the best way you can give back is by simply actively engaging in the class. And I might have one or two short surveys for you.

Does this look interesting to anyone else?

I have to get off YouTube.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=diU70KshcjA

But so funny.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jo6dkHgT6TI

Today my roommate and I were rounding the corner to enter the yarn store for in which to fondle fibers when a woman carrying a cardboard box almost ran into us.

"Excuse me," I said, sucking my gut in and dodging left. The side-walks are narrow in that part of town because of all the fucking semi-raised flower beds they installed to prettify things.

"Oh hello, are you interested in some wholesale items I am selling?" She asked, putting her box down on the raised edge of a flowerbed.

"Uh," I said, looking at my roommate. "Like what?"

"Oh, well," the odd woman said. "I have knives and cutting boards and cleavers and a flashlight that is also a taser."

She then proceeded to take one of the flashlights out of the box and demonstrate the light part. Then she showed us the on-off switch on the butt of the device and turned the taser on, within a few inches of my roommate, who was not impressed.

"Okay," I said very calmly to the crazy woman with a box of cleavers and tasers, "We believe you. It's a taser."

"Of course, they normally go for $66 but I'll let it go for $10," the strange lady said, "You aren't supposed to use these on anyone. Unless they're bothering you. Let me show you the cutting boards and cleavers."

"All that is the roommate's purview," I told her, taking a step back. "I'm not allowed to play with sharp things on account of accidentally the kitchen this one time."

"This is the fruit cutting board," the lady said, pulling out a thin box with pictures of fruit on it. "And this is the veggie one," she pulled out another thin box with a picture of veggies on it.

"Oh, they're glass cutting boards?" the roommate asked.

"Yes. Normally they're very expensive but I'll let them go for cheap."

"Thank you very much for showing us what you're selling," the roommate said hurriedly. "But we have to go."

"Oh. Okay," the crazy woman said. And dropped cleavers all over the sidewalk.



We left without buying any of her wholesale goods. I'm sure the roommate regrets passing up such an amazing opportunity.

http://blogs.wsj.com/washwire/2013/06/12/navy-to-drop-all-caps-communications/?mod=e2tw

THE U.S. NAVY WILL NO LONGER COMMUNICATE EXCLUSIVELY IN ALL CAPITAL LETTERS.

OFFICIAL COMMUNICATIONS AND ORDERS HAVE BEEN IN ALL CAPS SINCE 19TH CENTURY.

YOUNG SAILORS ACCUSTOMED TO TEXTING SEE ALL-CAPS ORDERS AS A FORM OF SHOUTING!

Sent this to the tech guys at Mobage because my god damn butterfly-breeding game won't load. That leaves me with froggies, fishies, and plants. But I wants my butterflies!! Yeah, I'm kinda dumb but I hope it works out anyway.

Hey y'all. I updated my Flutter app last night and now it won't load. The runaway logo screen comes up and then it goes black and doesn't do anything until I close it. Other apps work fine.

I did that there little thing where you double tap the button and close all the opened games. <-- advice offered by the FAQ troubleshooter hickything. -->

I tried turning the iPod off and then on again. <-- Key trick in making anything work better. -->

My iOS is current. My emotional state is more a slightly irritated dog-tilt bwuh? Which there isn't an option for.

I miss my butterflies!!!!!! <-- Excess !s prove sincerity and enthusiasm. The internet says so. -->

So anywho, thanks for a great game. Any help you can offer in restoring my glorious butterflies to their fluttery glory would be appreciated.

Oh - and I think your next limited set should be a pizza themed set. Big yellow one with brown under-wings and red spots on top. A smaller, creamier one with mushroom shaped spots and green stripes (spinach, bleach!). And a third that's kinda big and has pine-apple shapes on the top wings and little ham-squares on the bottom. Let me know what you think!

Thank you kindly,

Cardinal of Pizza Deliverance, ESQ, PDQ, OMGWTFBBQ

[Welcome to Lively Acres! - Part One]

Welcome to Lively Acres! - Part One

The storm came quick, with a flash and bang. It her head, it sounded like 'Pomp and Circumstance' being played by a garage metal band. With really shitty amps. Rain blew in horizontal sheets, stripping trees of their spring plumage and scouring the poorly paved road free of oil and debris.

Thick, shimmering rainbows disappeared into the ditches and creeks, ushered along by an entourage of flotsam. The naked trees groaned where their roots dipped into the waterways, whether because of the foul brew or the winds testing their anchorage, she didn't know. The ringing in her head didn't offer any answers for that. Or any at all.

Thunder, coming close enough to kiss, rocked the corrugated metal shed and rattled her teeth in her head. Lightening, coming up quick behind, flashed and sizzled, chasing away the motes of light in her vision by virtue of blinding her completely. Temporarily, she hoped.

Soaking wet and steaming mad under a thick blanket of disorientation, she waited for her vision to return and her head to clear. Something had driven her to this rusted ruin of a shed in the deep woods, the only standing structure in a small, abandoned housing project. Something had covered her in bruises and torn half the hair from her head. Something scraped away the skin on her left side.

Just as soon as the shitty band quit playing and she could rest a little, she'd figure out what . . .

* . * . * . * . * . * . * . *

Night. The garage metal had been replaced by crickets and a chill breeze rattling the newly nude branches. One limb tap-tap-thunked on the roof of the shed.

She opened her eyes and used her right hand to clear the bugs from her face and most of them from her hair. It was still raining, but softly, almost silently. She rolled, very slowly, out of the shed and into the rain. It helped in washing her injuries clean and clearing the remaining pests away. A spider skittered across her stomach in its attempts to escape. Clearly the shed had had other occupants before she'd discovered it. Oops.

Everything ached. Or burned. Of the two, the burning was more unpleasant. But the rain was taking care of that, as was the chill. Even the itching, the worst thing of all, was subsiding. Which was good because it's hard to scratch your own remaining skin off when your hands weren't quite working, she thought. But hey, at least she still had hands. She wasn't as sure of her feet. It was sort of numb from the knees down. She wasn't going to worry about that yet.

There was already so much chittering, shrieking, screaming terror trying to blot out her thought process that being unable to feel part of her body didn't even rate. It was actually kind of a relief. Something that didn't hurt!

She opened her mouth and let it fill with water, swallowing carefully to avoid aspirating the rain or the occasional mosquito. It was getting humid. Which probably meant more storms or the breeze was dying. That was a pity, it meant the itching would be back sooner rather than later.

No longer thirsty or itchy or as achy, she carefully roll-slithered back into the shed and slept.

* . * . * . * . * . * . * . *

Day. Light poured in around a tall, wide shadow darkening her doorway.

"Well hell," the shadow said, its voice like gravel being ground to powder. "What's this?"

"Please . . . " she said, hoping her prolonged croak resembled speech.

But apparently it didn't. The shadow disappeared, leaving a gap for more blinding light to pour in and set her raw skin on fire. She screamed, a little, because the only screams she had left were little ones.

The shadow returned, blocking out the light and loomed over her.

"Breathe deep now," it grated, reaching down with one huge hand.

And wrapped a sweet-smelling cloth over her face, pressing it against her nose and mouth, suffocating her.

Saw this and thought of you.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?NR=1&feature=endscreen&v=dStuYS1Ng8Q

1.) dan le sac Vs Scroobius Pip - Get Better - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yEitrZU-nCw

2.) Flobots - Handlebars - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HLUX0y4EptA

3.) K'naan - ABC's - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ovk5EfFj7Ws

4.) Die Antwoord - Baby's On Fire - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BXx7LZdrqHE

5.) Incubus - Drive - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sRUf30Afcyo

6.) Immortal Technique - Leaving the Past - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jjp8yuEBjxs

7.) The Mad Violoinist - covering Swedish House Mafia's 'Don't You Worry Child' - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aKV-ZLQheaM

8.) The Wailin' Jennys - Glory Bound - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vkmaFLakXc8

9.) Leonard Cohen - Anthem - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5ma5tF6TJpA

10.) Otis Taylor - Please Come Home Before it Rains - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wykChTusT6M

There's a dead girl in the corner, her hair is sandy blond - more sand than blond, and her face is covered with freckles. She wears an ankle-length skirt and a floral blouse, graceful and serene in her Goodwill clothing. Her glasses sit on her nose so that she has to push them up every couple of seconds.

She's got a deck of cards and when she isn't dealing out futures for other dead or lost girls, she plays solitaire because I can't always see her. Sometimes she sits alone for months at a time just laying cards down one after another. Telling herself stories of what could be, what almost was, and what won't ever happen never never NEVER.

But sure as seasons she blooms every summer, like a cancer or mold. Something beautiful but reeking of death. When the heat runs high I can hear her voice, see the anger painting her features, twisting the delicate bones into something rigid and wrathful.

Then she fades away when it cools off, as if Autumn tempers her tantrums. As if the fall allows her to lie still in her grave again, and sleep until late Spring nightmares make her restless and wake her up.

Sometimes another girl keeps her company. This one wears a horrible itchy plaid wool skirt that's too short and an overly floofy blouse with a stupid bow that ties in front. With shoes that pinch the feet and hair left hanging pale and loose so any passing hand can grab and give a hard tug.

They play skip-rope or hopscotch or jacks. They play with the dead girl's cards, examining each picture for clues and portents. Sometimes they will confide silly secrets but never serious ones. Sometimes one will sing, or the other. The dead girl only knows hymns. The other only knows country songs and some rock 'n' roll.

Everything they have they share and share alike. Food, games, nightmares. But they don't know it. They think they're keeping the deepest, darkest, most terrible secret all to themselves so as not to taint their friend with the filth of it all. They try so hard to do this they don't realize they both have the same secret.

Time passes and they fade, in and out, in and out. Sometimes one girl, sometimes two. In and out, in and out.

As years go by the girls get smaller though they stay forever the same. And sometimes other boys and girls show up. Sometimes these new friends stay for years. Sometimes they fade after mere minutes. Sometimes one little girl or another recognizes what the new friends don't know themselves and the little girls keep their secrets all the tighter. Those new friends always leave quickly.

After awhile the girl who isn't dead realizes it's only the ones who hold the deep rotten secrets that stay so long. They leave stains on everything they touch whether they want to or not. No matter how hard they scrub or how neatly they sit so still.

Sometimes one girl or the other can clean up someone else's stains some, help them leave less dirt behind. Sometimes they make it worse. Sometimes their secrets are so heavy there's no room to breathe. Sometimes their secrets are so light, they could float away if only the wind would blow hard enough, fast enough to break them free of their tethers.

But no wind is that strong.