from Twin Peaks (part 2: location location location)

can you id all the locations? (for twin peaks freaks)

#1


#2


#3


#4


#5


#6


#7


#8


#9 (this one is a bit tricky, but i bet you can still do it)


#10 (and this one is a bit of a cheat, because it's not *the* actual location)


#11

from Twin Peaks (part 1: campers)

welcome to twin peaks.



yay camping!!!



and, the campers...

brian (hyde), and his new friend Autumn the cat... he didn't eat her, although it looks like he's thinking about it here...



angela (thetrueaudry)



rex "chainsaw" young. if you want to know why we call him chainsaw now, you'll have to come camping with us.



sandy didn't come camping with us, but she said she would do if the festers weren't paying for her trip. so, she's an honorary camper.

ryan and i tried oysters...

... i think they taste like the sea. salty and wet and not particularly nice. but like i said, if they were all that was left on the earth to eat, i'd eat them.

i'm on holiday!!!

ryan and i are off to the Pacific Northwest for a week in Twin Peaks ^_^

to keep you joyus while i'm gone, here are some pictures of kitties doing kitty things...

such as...
enjoying Polar Cave ice cream with the family...


watching birdies...


making their eyes glow in a kind of spooky manner...


mastering the nuances of gravity...


eating socks...


and sleeping in boxes...


but most importantly of all...
not getting exterminated by the daleks...

ray

ray is eighty-four years old
and today, he quit smoking
because he doesn't like the taste anymore

you have nice hair

hum

the vibrations of her love song
against his hungry lips
her swollen tonsils against his cool cheek

her song moves him

the white plains

you are a japanese green-tea beetle
and you're trapped between an expanse
of white, smooth paper
and the green-head flies buzzing
at the screen door
at the back of the used-book store on main street.

the store rumbles.

the train horn blows a violent kind of warning
and an inch worm no bigger
than your right antenna
falls from the sky,
joining your expansive white journey
to the door before closing.

banned

together,
a barren field
yields new residue

under the yellow sky
of mid july

meanwhile,

we feign weight
as floating, laughing
above the grass

above the locusts
in their ill-formed
chewing clouds

and hatching.

hello, blue man?

will you be my blue man,
my tea cup in capital letters?

in my dream last night
i fought off killer ants
and the rot of a century
with my bare hands

tonight, you can help.

brithday ringing

the ringing of the bards is here again, thanks to billy the most blogging of all poets ^_^

ring around the phozi

pocket full of fun

phozi-opp

i need more practice...

kitty fridge pack!!

hapa nui

ashraf brought this to my attention. fun. good. fun is good. and so is hapa nui.

triumphant

i have abandoned my cradle
for longer struggles
and shorter lines

sweet dreaming

the ache in my neck
is from where the kitten grew
as it slept and stretched over me
in my own deep sleep

the dream of a wealthy family
broken by hate and the lack of water
in a poor country where women speak their minds
to the men who slave in the dirt
and mud of a fallen future

and upon waking
the yawning claws of a cat
stuck in between the strands of my hair

Chris Benoit and family -

ryan called me at the pizza/sub place i'm working at last night. it was around 7 or 8 i guess... he told me that Chris Benoit and his family were found dead in their home.

my first thought... i'll never see him wrestle in person. selfish, maybe. but like ryan said, there's nothing wrong with respecting the guy enough to want to see him wrestle--which is what i respect him for.



i've been checking wrestlezone.com this morning... a double-murder suicide. but we don't *know* who did it. Chris maybe - that's what's suspected at the moment. but based on what everyone says about him and what they said about him *before* he passed away... it doesn't seem to me that Chris had the maddness in him to do what's been done... to kill his seven year old son... his wife... himself. and just as he was about to become the ECW champion...



there are a lot of these tributes from WWE wrestlers, but CM Punk's was the most relevant to my initial reaction.

i told ryan last night that the news to me was disturbing. that's the word i chose for it.

...the world's perception of an individual changed overnight from one of the absolute best men in the wrestling industry to a potential murderer. how do you respect a man with the capacity to kill his own family?

and like ryan... i hope he didn't. i hope it wasn't him.

in serperate tanks

the landscape of my knees
shifted in the raised dirt
where the middle finger
on my right hand turned purple
and i feared it would break off.

until last night. i felt
the sensation of a dream
i'd had with you, in it my face
grew swollen on one side
until i couldn't hear or see.

the money i owed him was missing
but he needed it now
to save himself from crying
and the fish were all in separate tanks
to keep them from fighting to death.

-Ra-

on father's day

yesterday was father's day. but instead of celebrating my dad, my family mourned for the family cat.

i call ra 'the family cat' because although i picked him out from his litter when he was just a tiny tot--merely the size of my hand--he's been in the care of my mom and dad since i went to college 6 years ago and moved with them to their new house 3 years ago.

he wasn't just our family cat though... while living in brewster, ra frequented the neighbors across the street--they had a little fish pond in their back yard for summer fishing and a fire place for those cold winter evenings. in yarmouth--where my mom and dad and brother now live--ra made himself comfortable on just about every neighbor's back deck. almost every, that is... there's that one house with the 4 big dogs that he was just too smart to get involved with.

he was a big cat. the biggest. so much so that we weren't sure he was actually a cat... more of a furry dinosaur (which we referred to him as often).

here he is during his awkward adolescent years...



big ears, long face. by this time in his life he'd already ventured into the wilderness of cape cod. he'd been stuck up a tree so high that he couldn't get down--i saved him with a really tall ladder. he started off hunting chipmunks, but it didn't take him long before he started going after birds and rabbits.

ra grew so big, so fast. it's no wonder he had blood-clots. his heart just couldn't keep up with his rapid-hunter lifestyle and his sheer body mass.



you can see the scars on his nose in the picture above. he was strong and aside from a chip in his ear, he didn't keep any scars for long. he was a warrior. bold and aggressive. he scared meaghan's german shepard--the dog's tail went between it's legs as it ran away from ra.

he looked after his family. he left parts of rabbits and birds and half-eaten mice for my dad to find on the step in the morning. although we never ate the tasty treats he'd leave us, we appreciated the gesture nonetheless.

and although he looks awfully brutish and sort of scary, he was really quite handsome and gentle.



he loved to be with his family. loved to be pet and brushed and talked to. he even joined us for dinner every night--although that may have been mostly to do with the meat that was being served... he could eat.

he let us hold him--although at nearly 20pounds, he was a big cat to go picking up and carrying around, so it didn't happen too often--and never fussed.

*****

my mom called me yesterday morning around 11. i heard ra screaming in the background, pippin (the corgi) yelping. i knew when i heard him that it was really bad.

new years eve two years ago (2005 into 2006) ra lost the control over one of his legs. he cried. we gave him half a tylenol and he slept for a while, then eventually got up and walked outside. he was fine.

so the blood clots had been effecting him since then, if not well before. the vet says that they cause serious pain, and that he'd likely been suffering for a very long time, just not showing it.

like i said before though... ra was a warrior. he was strong to the bitter end.

after my dad got home from his brunch with friends, he stayed with ra. my dad was never a cat person--not really a huge animal person--but ra got to him.

when they first moved, they kept ra inside the house until christmas day. we all sat at christmas dinner wondering where he was. ra always came home for dinner. ra did come home, and before it got too dark. but the entire evening my dad paced. he went out calling and searching for ra. it was then that we all knew just how much ra and dad meant to each other. ra chose him. ra sat on dad's lap whenever he could and dad could do anything to ra without ra flinching or putting up a clawed paw.

i'm sure it was dad's decision to send ra to the emergency animal hospital. mom and mike went.

when i spoke to them next, they were on there way to my house in sandwich. my mom said she wanted ra to be near denny--our dog that knew ra as a kitten before he passed away and who is cremated and stays with me here in my house with max in the other room. she wanted ra to be outside. he was an outdoor cat and wouldn't want to be far from the birds and grass he spent his life surrounded by.

mike was really upset. he didn't talk, didn't cry, just sat there. it looked as though he was even holding his breath at times. completely still. he spoke to ryan early that afternoon, and explained that he'd miss ra, that he saw a lot of ra. ra came into his room to get away from the dog, slept on his bed and meowed at him in the morning to be let outside.

mom and mike left me with ra, in his cardboard kitten coffin.

i let him sleep soundly in the basement over night. although i barely slept, when i did, i dreamt of him. vividly.

this morning, with tears in my eyes and a pain in my chest, i dug a hole big enough to bury a normal-sized dog...

it took me 3 and a half hours, but ra is resting peacefully now alongside his old friend wibble the goldfish.

to ra with all our love.

turtle

caramel and chocolate
in the underside
of a cracked box shell

a strain of sleep

rub your eyes as you read
as if you just woke

from a long night of dreaming,
the seeds still in your eyes.

final bid

our hair locked together
in the chaos of dim-lit stirring;

in an exploratory fashion
we executed the perfect knot

-- a chinese finger trap --

the only way out was backwards,
towards the desire you harbor

and the kiss i could have lived without.

omg - diamond skull!

by damien hirst (the one and only)


and worth a whopping £50m!!!

battle truce

when i told him he had a stern face
he objected -

sternly


and when he asked if he could kiss me
i denied him -

the first time

vibrant gray

check out the current issue of vibrant gray

i'm in there.

(thanks craig!)

for miss foxy

dear miss foxy,

max was shaved, do you remember the pictures? on his front legs and sides. in patches.

i was thinking about you both last night.

it was november, then again in january -when we first met you. not due to any heat.

my dear, be glad for the cause and the purpose. to keep you cool, comfortable.

bury vanity and shame in a winter blanket and remember what would have been if they hadn't saved you. if they didn't love you so entirely. they wouldn't fight if they didn't care this much.

hugs,
katy

p.s. true beauty is on the inside.

kittehz

jack and rowdy say 'mreow!'
which i think means 'birdz!!'

it's jack-in-a-box!!

so... rowdy decided that in order to take the little chain ryan put around his neck off, he'd put a plastic bag on... i guess it must have made sense at the time...

jack is a cat and jack is a little gorilla. jack and jack are friends.

brother's make the bestest pillows.

see? =^_^=

thank you russell

(better late than never)

russell of Yuckelbel's Canon wrote me this lovely poem as an anniversary gift.

thank you dear!!

as we were

we were alone
for the first time,

but we've known
for quite some time.

at the grocery store
you stood close

as we picked out produce together
and discussed marinades.

i didn't mind the children
you called your own -

from a previous life
or marriage or affair.

you let me sit
in the front seat of you car

and my heart swelled
with lust and triumph.

but when she returned to you
and your brother came back...

with your family swarming,
i was asked to sit in the back again.

angry, complacent, trampled,
i wanted to go back

to last night, in my dreams,
where you embraced me as we slept.

teh poll

do you heart pirates?
do you heart gauchos?

now, i know that for most the immediate reaction is going to be pirates... but perhaps you should consider reading up on gauchos and their amazingly amazing dinning stylee.

the art of flirtation (in 3 parts)

i.

you used both hands
to pass me my tea


ii.

when you noticed the scratch
on the underside of my forearm
you touched it
to confirm its validity

and hushed my wince
with a sympathetic glance


iii.

our knees touched
under the kiddie table
outside the ice cream parlor

a quotable:

"The heaviest of burdens crushes us, we sink beneath it, it pins us to the ground. But in the love poetry of every age, the woman longs to be weighed down by the man's body. The heaviest of burdens is therefore simultaneously an image of life's most intense fulfillment. The heavier the burden, the closer our lives come to the earth, the more real and truthful they become."

-Milan Kundera in The Unbearable Lightness of Being

ashraf, i've decided to take this book on and leave frank for shorter reading periods... one or two digressions a day. the floating at on the cover of this book, and this quote, are egging on me to dive in. i'll let you know just how much i like it when i've finished it.

5/17/07

i wrote a whole punch of poems in my journal on the seventeenth and finally feel the urge to share them... this urge partially brought on by my recognizing the lack of poetry here recently and acknowledging that i don't have the gusto to write new poems for you right now. hope you like...


relive (you)

reborn the finch
enter the spring in a Frank O'Hara play

we forget our friends
and avoid our family

hord away lovers
hold long ago affairs (closer)

evertyhing is okay -
i'm waiting to start -

bit it feels like you love
everyone of them (at first)

and i believed you
when you said you loved me too.


summer

he used an electric typewriter
to steal my heart


*red poetry to be insider*

lift the pages
the dates are old
and she goes
in and out of couplets
for different occations

she only practices her penmenshp here
were her hand is good
you love her less
the perfect word is neat
but too tired yet

where she crosses lines
you love her more - like
see through tops to secret things
she won't show you
because you never ask.


butter

felt guilty all of a sudden
for reading another man's poetry


reactive

I
i can only write what
the 'she' thinks

and she has no outward reaction,
she just writes and breathes

II
she wants to write
on the back of all the pages


untitled dream

i dreamt that kate and ling had to leave the program and the country because mark k took my car. my car was small and read. i left the engine running when i went in to get them. i was in a bad mood. i told paul to get out of my house and that it was all of his fault even though i clearly didn't live there and his ugly, scared face stuck in my mind. if only i could have apologized to him. but i cried for kate and ling and cursed myself for leaving mary to herself - especially in a dream.


untitled poem for jack

jack wanders by
leaving the window
and says he loves me
on his way back.





*

the body of work (part one)

his sleeves were two fold
long over short and she watched
as he pushed one up with the other

an unbalanced effort to keep

Bug

i was upset at all those people in the theatre that laughed when the film ended when i was almost in tears.

i know my small readership isn't going to run out and see Bug because i liked it... in fact Ashraf, we've been pretty much opposite feeling about most films recently, so i recommend you leave this one unwatched. but, maybe Michelle will appreciate my wavering commitment to horror.

ryan and i went to see Bug last night. i had only a passing notion of what to expect. i'd only seen one trailer and thought the idea of a virus that made people think they had bugs looked creepy and clever.

no virus.

no gigantic man-eating queen mother bugs.

no twists.

just a couple of lonely, paranoid delusionals in love. it's brilliant. and engaging.

from the opening, sweeping shot of the Oklahoma landscape (giving an immediate sense of isolation and desolation) to the final syllable of dialogue, the film fed the buzzing in my ear and the tingle at the back of my neck. the film is tense without being irritating. only one scene made me squirm and we can call that the definite climax. from that point on, we watch as the bugs truly take over.

it was a compelling film that doesn't ask too much of any audience, but that audiences seem to be asking too much of. the woman behind us at the theatre last night, when the film ended, asked, approximately, where the monster was. she *completely* missed the boat as it were.

for me, it was a beautiful study in storytelling and film making. and an engaging study of the effects of isolation, loneliness and self-destruction.



*

Tension kicks in from frame one,
and for most of the first act,
Friedkin does what he does best:
instilling the mundane with an underlying sense of dread.
-Andrew Kasch (Dread Central)

everyone likes 'A Good Joke'

reading something

lunch time for bears.

will tell you what i think later or not.

armed

the under side of her forearm
is raw from the sugar-bleach compound
that comes from scooping ice cream in public.

he's purring

a small cat
sat on top of a wheel
of carefully aged parmesan

sinks his teeth in.

a piano lesson

part one:
when i saw the piano i asked 'do you play?'

to which he replied 'no, do you?'

part two:
it came with the apartment
and made a muffled noise

i jammed the keys

part three:
after clearing the cover
of the box piano with blue paint chipping

we found the skeleton of a turtle
scattered and broken among the strings

part four:
we placed the bones in a way
to make them look as much like a turtle
as we could imagine

the broken shell was the hardest part

part five:
after the burial

he asked 'scones and tea?'

to which i replied 'have you got cream?'

oh Fogo De Chao

we went to philly for the weekend. stayed with ashraf. went to this place called Fogo de Chao. most delicious meat i've ever had. EVER.

gauchos -in gaucho pants no less- come by your table with meat on swords. they ask politely if you'd like whatever it is that's been impaled onto their sow rd. if you say yes, you get a fresh, hot slice of heavenly tasting seasoned meat piled onto your plate in manageable cuts. the house special was to die for.

not only did they provide a constant supply of meat on swords served by gauchos in gaucho pants, they also had a gigantic parmesan wheel at the salad bar. to get some cheese, you hack at the wheel. best tasting parmesan i'd ever had, and went beautifully with the meats being served.

i think we had about 12 gaucho-style servers.

it was not only a dining experience, but one of the best meals i think i've ever had in my life. we planned, before ashraf, ryan and i even left the table, that we're going back in november to celebrate my birthday there and eat more meats.

^_^

i heart gauchos

who cares (about poetry) ?

a blogger's effigy

what i would have been
when he could have been:

frank, love me.

two things

one, i really did see a helicopter on my way to and from school today

and two, tonight (in less than half an hour) i start my newestest summer job at the polar cave!!!

simple procedure

(in favor of a simple procedure)
we wait until it's warm to do our chores

i saw a helicopter hover
over a cranberry bog on my way home

and i saw my neighbors' lawn mowers
covered in grass and worn out

i covered mine in grass, now
i'm worn out for something

a new skirt with pockets
and a new career path
_____- ice cream diva

my little bro made a zombie movie!

and it's totally worth watching all the way through (am not saying that because he's my brother).

Kate, PIPPIN IS IN THE VIDEO!

i made a site from scratch

check out aboxfullofletters.com

i made it with hand coded html and css as a project for a class.

my client, the lovely Kate, also made somethingkaty.com from scratch for the same project.

^_^

between

the sun through the window on our faces
your fingers dance over my warm cheek

over my eyelids to shut them, to rest,
early on a tuesday napping with the cats

in the air, the notes, the pleasure
of getting lost between you and sleep

new love

the traffic barrel hawk over sees
the suburb fire and fields of marks
--pink chemical flags--

her voice, a trickle of hope,
scratched to match his candor and volume
and his hips move back and forth
with her eyes and her heart and her need

jeffers' hawk on a plastic yellow barrel
looks up at the traffic
--it's four on a thursday--
while he sucks on the cap of his pen

she's desperate for his truth
for his form and for his tongue
to enter her with more caution,
but he's too divine to comply --to her.

tainted love

an ode to my old green all stars

for the diction of a worn shoelace
the ends tattered and chewed
to the rhythm of growth,

for the predictable slip of the tongue
to the left of each foot
as a reflection of pace,

for the hole in the back of each soul
where the weight of the world
presses down on us,

and for the white stained green
from the grass-juice emissions
of a two year old lawn mower.

in spring

for a procession of passing ducks

i'll come to your party, but only
if you promise to wear your bow-tie
__ and fitted suit with cuff links





.

new feature

<-- check him out.

pictures of kitties - how unusual, i know...

springing

the fruit of my autumn labors

the flower moon

from the farmers almanac


the early may moon rises over the lake
our lake

the one radclyff and i pretend
no one knows about - but us

the lake where we saw each other's reflections
in the wake of slow going sail boats

¡ahoy!, our flower moon rises
with the dandelions

said radclyff over the edge of our canoe
to a procession of passing ducks

the spring in the wall

another ladder effected poem

wondering,

what elastic is to you
what spring is to me

what stretches, rubber and metal parts

while writing to you

while writing to you i wondered
if you heard the spring in the wall.

it popped last night, and you asked
me if i was dreaming when i told you.

i left you a note and stuck to the table
with tape so that cat's couldn't hide it.

it's to ask you for milk and one of those
enchilada meals in the yellow boxes.

duty free from Beirut

shukran ashraf

chocolate tastes even better
when it's traveled from far off lands.

and better still, when it's a gift
from a friend you've been missing.

another poem for John Landry

still Poet Laureate of New Bedford

thanks for the fruit basket.

i had the grapefruit --
that was hiding at the bottom --
for breakfast the next morning;

the morning after the reading.

with sugar lightly sprinkled over each revealed half.

thanks again mr landry, john.

stay well.

a poem for John Landry

Poet Laureate of New Bedford

i wonder how long it takes
to grow a beard like that.

milkshake!

the internet is good

=^_^=

i found this at the internet...

le grand content

something about the computer-voice, or the music, or the bubbles and they way they float... i'm not sure. but something about this little video makes me feel relaxed and happy.

down town

we rubbed shoulders with tea drinkers
sniffed their sweet black litchi and rice milk
and held out out mugs for change on the main drag

anti-urge and fleece

there are days when the urge to write. the will to write. are absent in me.

today may not be one of those days. the will to write here is plentiful. the will to write what i am *required* to, however, is limp.

maybe today there is a source. anything from that source breaks itself into words and typed symbols and meanings. anything outside of that source. anything forced. not sourced. is impossible. i cannot tell you about the rhetoric of a human website. i cannot tell you what makes her site work. stand out.

maybe today i should take liberty. today i should be late. today i am wearing the blue fleece my mother got me for christmas. today i am too comfortable to work.

but today i have no excuse. i have only the weight of *required* text hovering over me.

today i don't have the will to write a poem. but at least i have poetry in my fingers.

i just wanna play Viva Pinata!!

why can't doing school work be as much fun as growing super tulips and turning bad snails into good ones?

3 years

today, ryan and i have been married for 3 years. ^_^ it doesn't feel like it's been that long.

even more notable, though, is that we met in a chat room 8 years ago today.

*that* feels like a long time ago!

love you monkee!

welcome home

i did what i could
to console him

with home-baked scones
and dark coffee

this is town

for ashraf, welcome home

he said it rains mud here -
the water of the earth
mixing with the dust of war.

the traffic is bad, he said,
because the bridges have all
been bombed and broken

and yet, they live on
at book fairs and cafes
on corners of half ruined streets.

he said to me, his eyes
washed with knowing, they
believe war will come again

and yet, they keep on living.

town

this is town

where we tread alongside komodo dragons and sheep




i met radclyff
under the primary colors of sunset
over-looking the river.

outside a shop i asked him
-sweetly-
if i could borrow some change
for a turkish delight and tizer.

'all the drinks here are red'
he replied, dropping three quid at me.

we met later at the party

thank you little old men
and some

Crispin Glover Can Dance

Happy Friday the 13th
(especially to creetures of the girl kind)

mipo link #2 - Brian Boutwell

bonus!

if you've never heard brian read, you're missing out. he's got an amazing sense of timing and a deep, enriched, southern drawl which is just phenominal.

you can hear brian read two poems at ...

http://www.miporadio.net/BRIAN_BOUTWELL/index.html

... hey, brian, you still out there? haven't talked to you in ages, give me a call some time ^_^

mipo link

http://www.miporadio.net/KATY_ACHESON/

i was being egocentric today. i googled myself. under images, i found the link to my mipo radio page ^_^ this is good. i haven't been able to find it because didi changed up the goodnight show's site and i proved incompetent with the new arrangement.

so there it is, for anyone who wants to hear me read a poem with my very own magical voice of wonder.

and there's a picture with me and max, on the first day we met =^_^= happy memories are happy

Birthday Memorial

today, Max would have been one year old.

to celebrate, we gave the kitties (jack and rowdy) a nice dinner of chicken and melted cheese, and they ate a lot and purred and were happy.

with lots of love for maxerodenfoe r.i.p.

southern poetry

at the book store
two nights ago

i knelt in front
of the periodicals

and searched through
the gray covered collection

for the name of a poet i knew
i wouldn't find

saturday

(radclyff came over(.))

we floated past all five hours
on canoes and paradise-feather stuffed pillows

my hair falling fore
and his gentle enthusiasm

last saturday we survived
on his red canvas sofa - tonight

we excel on mine
as if birds were our prey

and fair treat

fun things to make you laugh

here, a bunny like thing for president

and below... a commercial that you won't see on tv... at least not without cuts made.

mountain town romance

where his facial hair scratches my forehead
is where our simple affair retreats - to quiet -

to retract the last sentence
is where our complications boil

and we pour them out over tea leaves
and fine white sugar

our trademark argument -
maybe he is always right

and maybe i do overreact -
but rewarded by our simplicities

and content for store-bought pizza
and cheap tea in mugs i bought

from an imaginary mountain-side village
where our heads rest on each other's shoulders

to watch the sun set through the reflection
of our picture window -

staring east outside to keep the wind at our backs -
rewards are particles and absences of light

until my fingers get cold because my tea is gone
and i want to forgive him with my hands

and another poet

yeah, one who is actually writing poems ^_^

everyone, say hi to shirley allard and her spiffy new poetry blog.

someone is still writing poetry

but it isn't me

check out ozy [the] man diaz

faces

image stolen from badmana.com

moria volume 9 issue 2 &3 live

and i'm in it with amigo craig perez

check us out here!

he is called Tequila

per ashraf ^_^

texas is a fun place

although remarkably flat, texas is a happy fun place for fun things.
don't we look like we're having fun?
(can't wait for more pictures, michelle!)

my husbee and i, along with the dread central crew, spent a gut-busting weekend of inadvertant fun and horror-themed happy moments in the big TX (where there are a lot of tacos) for the first ever FearFest.

PICTURES HERE

in Piper's corner

for most of the FearFest convention i hung out at Roddy Piper's table trying to help out by making Rod feel, as Sean Clark put it, "like he has people". Rod is still not 100% but on the up and up. he's a super super star too, he didn't hang around with anyone and he didn't stay on the convention floor for more than an hour at a time. he's a super human though. and i mean that in every respect.

(more later)

kitty fridge pack!

rowdy looks especially special here

faced with

(now they are seeping () they are in my dreams)

he was my friend only but
not my only friend until later

dunny hunny

ashraf got me this warrior-like dunny figure in a blind box. he's super cool. he's in my pocket. i like him.

toys are awesome. ashraf, you are awesome.

shukran!!

more about this dunny

moria accepts us

craig peddled our first collaboration of translations around the e-zine scene. so, it's thanks to him that we're going to be appearing in moria. i'll let you know when it's up ^_^

thanks shimya!!

milk

there are four kind of milk in the fridge,
but only one i'd put in my tea.

kitteh sized bathtub

click on image to make larger