Post-LARP: had an amazing game at World of OZ. My chocolate gun bunny character named Cadbury was given a huge weapon that was so heavy I could only walk with it. The town was in a war against an army of Nomes. So it was a target rich environment It was glorious! I wish I had pictures.
After a LARP where I successfully used nerf darts in 60mph winds (and rarely missed). "I wish I could teach how to do it. I think part of it its just "go for it". The other part is being fucked with by the universe for so long, I just learn to compensate for fuckery."
Talking to a friend about death: "Its not so bleak, we help people get closure, and facilitate the grieving process. We're more like Grim Party Planners."
Oh lawd!
Why is it that doing the responsible thing never feels as good as giving in to the irresponsible thing (and suffering consequences later)? I'm unhappy, but at least I have been an adult *sigh*
I like these responses: -"it may not be your job to educate me, but it's also not your job to be a jackass." -"I am not entitled to politeness from you, but that goes both ways. If you had a shred of human decency we could be polite to each other and both of us could get through our day in peace."
The break room smells like Bacon. And the smell is filling the halls of the funeral home. Bacon is like the opposite of 'microwaved fish smell'. Maaaaybe Bacon is not an appropriate smell at a Funeral home...
My executive dysfunction recognizes your nerospiciness. (And continues to procrastinate on the velvet jacket for the LARP character I've been 'working on' since 2020).
Caskets are bigger than urns!