I’m not writing about fucking Starbucks cups, and you can’t make me. I’m sick to fucking death of the type of evangelical Christian who thinks that they own all of November and December and that the rest of us have to behave exactly how they want or they’ll make everyone miserable. And they don’t get any more of my brain cycles. Fuck ’em all.
Regarding the Jayashree post from a couple of days ago: I was woken up from a sound fucking sleep last night to quickly type the name of a new story into Wunderlist, at which point I spent an hour trying not to get up and go piss and deal with some vastly annoying heartburn because the cat was in between my legs and I didn’t want to dislodge her. Both she and I lost that battle eventually, and the story’s about half written in my head right now. I’m just setting it earlier in her life to avoid having to deal with the, uh, fallout from Jayashree and the Young.
The story, by the way, is called Jayashree and the Gallows Pole. Let that one roll around in your head for a while.
I’m at my parents’ house all day today keeping an eye on my mom. Not sure if that means I’ll be around more than usual or less; I do hope to keep up with my NotNaNo word count but beyond that I’m basically just waiting for it to be tomorrow so I can play Fallout 4 23 hours a day for the rest of my life.