Dangerware

I've been having regular dreams where I am a certified bad-ass. Whether dealing with sociopathic serial killers, apocalyptic worlds, or totalitarian societies, I've become quite the revolutionary there. I've decided that my bad-assery should not be confined to the world of the ethereal, and therefore, shall be committing deeds of great bad-assery  to great renown, and be the all around bad-ass of the upper Midwest. Yeah, it got away from me.

There's only so many times one can say bad-ass before the bad-assery becomes less bad-ass.

In preparation, I will shave my head, get a few more piercings, and acquire weaponry--circa the medieval century rather than modern technology--and throw them off with my anachronistic supply of dangerware. Well, maybe not. 

But dangerware, I think I've really got something there--hopefully it doesn't infringe on the copyright of tupperware (although for some reason I feel like that might be more of a registered trademark at this point); it could be a very lucrative business with all of those silly parties and such. Come to my dangerware party, Mary Kay and Pampered Chef are so last year. On top of that, anyone who purchases dangerware must sign an agreement to clean their dangerware after they use it, no more of this atrocious using a blade and then sticking it back in the scabbard all full of entrails and such. To use dangerware one must be conscientious. As conscientious as any person purchasing dangerware could possibly be. 

Also, I could open an accompanying strip mall full of lingerie based on the dangerware business. Real racy stuff. 

Hopefully not infringing,

M

Posing

Egregious Salute to the Gentry

It's been centuries, and by that I mean years, and by that I definitely mean about a month since I've shoved the poor thoughts of my mind on the general populace--well I say no more! Prepare yourselves!

I've spent the last month rummaging through the ups and downs of life shifts, blah, blah, blech, and I am now dealing with the closing of yet another semester at university, ergo I have about zero time on my hands (that isn't already dictated by someone or something else) and with the arrival of a new job (barista-ing) I haven't had enough bloody time on my hands to deposit ruminations of any sort. 

In any case, I suppose I should catch you up on the malarky and facetiousness that is my life:

It was wholesome and delicious. If by bear you mean chicken. Or if by bear you mean human beings bothering me.

I ate an egregious amount of peanut butter. It was astoundingly delicious.

I used what little time I had left on my hands to watch any Moffat that I possibly could and as a consequence spent countless hours screaming at a box.

Got my freak on to Fun.

Just saying. And they don't have posh prisons in Northern MN. At least not that I'm privy to.

So mostly this is just here because I'm hoping that this gif-heavy post will be enough incentive for me to return on the morrow and invest time here as well. More diabolical thoughts to follow, complaints, raves, and otherwise duplicitous material.

I shall return to you--good sirs and assorted gentry and the like,

M

New Man

The new man in my life is Espresso. He keeps me up all night, keeps me going through the day, and keeps my heart in a heightened state of near hypnotic paralysis all the while administering shocking reminders of his presence. He's cheeky. Sometimes I walk in on him and he's completely fried. Other times he's covered from head to toe in chocolate.  Espresso irrevocably drives me insane with ecstasy when he puts his nose to the grindstone and leaves me utterly senseless for the rest of the day. 

He may not have a beard but he's damn good,

M