As Promised.

This is only funny if you read yesterday's post.

In fact, I did cry briefly today.  The love of my life died. Not my husband, he is fine.  Not bacon. It is presumably good, too.

I plugged my Kindle in last night to charge, because it was super dead when I went to read and when I remembered it was still plugged in this afternoon, it had somehow met an untimely demise.  I called Amazon (which I just typoed Amazin, probably not by coincidence) and after explaining in a panicky way that I had been depending upon reading on the plane to keep me from having a panic attack (haven't mentioned I don't like flying, have I?), Kyle the Awesome, told me that a brand spanking new Kindle would be over-nighted to me since mine was still in warranty. It should be here tomorrow in time to take with me. *crosses fingers*

So yeah, I love Amazon, and my Kindle... and while this is not a sponsored post, and is written of my own volition because I am really happy with the customer service I received, Amazon, I love free things and you are welcome to send me anything you like.

The Crazy Eyes

Here is some special insider artist information from me to the blargisphere... just in case you find yourself being constantly called crazy (in part) because you take bizarre pictures that end up on the fronts of magazines and the world continues to make fun of you...

It's really in the positioning. Any show of over iris gives that alarmed/rabid animal look. This is a no-no if you want to appear sane. In general, the lids should touch the top and bottom of the iris, but most people can get away with some under iris before they get to full dismissive eyeroll territory.

Also, for the record: Eyes should match.  So there you go... because I like to be helpful.

Or I could go to Australia...

I hate doing dishes.

And I hate doing dishes mostly because I am incapable of doing them without incurring the wrath of the sink.
By this I mean, dishes, quite clearly, hate me as much as I hate them.
I know this because I cannot get away from a sink of soiled bowls, utensils, plates, pots or pans without somehow spraying the entire kitchen with water, or soaking the front of my shirt and pants in a tell-tale oblong "splash of shame."

Now I have been told that, apparently, it is possible to wash dishes without looking like you've been visiting Sea World, and I've tried to thwart the soggy wrath with a kitchen towel placed on the edge of the sink, but then, I manage to soak the towel and then myself, or at the very least, I manage to place an ice cream scoop under the faucet, which results in spraying my entire shirt, sleeves, face, and feet because of course, I am freaking out that I am being dowsed with tepid sink water, and  I can't figure out to turn down the water pressure instead of quickly moving the concave surface while water ricochets everywhere.
It must be noted as well, that I have the keen ability to fill my sleeves with water, which seems like something only an idiot would do, but... I seem to be an idiot.

And just last night, I realized, apparently, I'm allergic to dish soap, or at least the ridiculously cheap crap that we buy, so getting soaked also means looking like I have leprosy in the places where the soapy water comes in contact with my skin for more than a few seconds.

I was hoping that my histamine reaction to dishes would get me out of having to do them, but no... of course they make hypoallergenic soap... bastards!

And yes, I know they make dishwashers to do dishes, but I have a tiny kitchen and a tiny counter top dishwasher, and all that it fits are plates and bowls, which are, of course, the easiest things to wash by hand.

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Remember, today is the last day to buy May's Limited Edition Llama sticker. They won't be available tomorrow!

And I made another dress-up game (with tutorial on how to do dress-up games all day Saturday) on my art blarg that features  the Nacho Dress.  It is NSFW unless you get the clothes on the underwear clad JRose figure fast. =P   Go there to dress me up!