All the Little Scary Things


kids today google, not giggle. they play angry birds instead of getting angry AT birds. they all have an ipad but no iq. not even one. they playstation but they never play station. i.e. one pretending to be a train and the others pretending to be different trains or low paid maintenance workers. they’re obsessed with one direction, rather than enjoying all eight directions equally. facebook… but unable to face… a book. or a hoop with a stick. a lost generation. the tv show.

I got angry at a bird today for a sec. It swooped at me and nearly took my eyes out, but then I realized it had a nest in the tree I was walking underneath, so I was all like “oh crap, sorry bird”, and it was all like flapping back up to its tree.

It didn’t say anything. It’s a bird.

Why is it that the ethnicity of your characters is so important to visual adaptions when you rarely, if ever, mention it in your prose?


I don’t really understand the question. If the ethnicity of the characters wasn’t in the prose it wouldn’t be mentioned at all in the adaptations and nobody would care. If you are paying attention you will find all sorts of people in the books, with all sorts of backgrounds. 

And it probably came from comics, in which I could have someone drawn as being part of a particular race or ethnicity and then not have to have them talk about being part of that ethnicity, but simply get on with the business of being in the story and behaving as that person, with that point of view, which would include ethnicity, would behave.



Video: Mario is a Jerk

theacidvats I feel so bad now…

Oh shit! I was going to send this to you earlier today! I thought the same thing. We’re monsters…


And as usual you have people on Tumblr and Twitter trying to say that Mike was a thug as if that makes it ok to kill him. Their perception of black men is that we are all thugs even if we engage in behaviors typical of someone within an age group. Anyone else throws up a peace sign its a symbol of…



Oops.  Awkward.

Gul’dan’s not much of a salesman



Five Night’s At Freddy’s is the new horror game everyone is talking about. Kid’s and parents alike come to the this new place for entertainment (like a Chuck E Cheese). At the night, it’s a completely different story.

Can you survive five night’s at freddy’s? 



You may also like Sound of Silence, a game that adapts to a person’s greatest fear

Well I am definitely not playing this alone :|

I watched a Let’s Play of this. Holy hell it’s freaky.


I officially dub today Forgiveness Friday.

Taking inspiration from both Eros and Revalor, I want to try and hopefully get more people to take a step back, and look at how their RP is affecting themselves, and those around them.

We are all human, we all make mistakes, it is bound to happen. But…

This is not something I would have ever thought of, but actually does make a lot of sense when I think about it. I’m not as much a part of the WRA RP community as I used to be, but I have been thinking of making a real concerted effort to get back in to it lately.

Time for some self-reflection!

He said lock the door:

Best thing about family: Don’t let each other get away with ANYTHING!




Life! Stop it!

I was just about to write something, because I’m feeling all inspired, now that it’s started raining and given up on this foolish sun business… It wasn’t going to be much, as I’m at work, but it was going to be a thing, dangit!

Life seems to love throwing a barrage of distractions at me any time I attempt anything creative though. Today’s distraction came in the form of a man walking past the entrance of my store, loudly exclaiming “fuck him and his nasty feta cheese!”.

There was nobody with him, and he looked like the most proper guy ever. Like, think a doppelganger of Ned Flanders. He came in to my life, said this sentence with no preamble or context whatsoever… and he was gone again. I’m sure he had a headset in, but from the side of him I saw, there wasn’t one, and I kinda hope there wasn’t. I hope that exclamation was born of pure frustration with someone trying to feed him feta cheese.

There are times I don’t believe in a higher power, and then there are times like this. You can’t convince me that some trickster deity didn’t just look down upon me attempting something creative, and say “oh no, this shan’t do at all! A man full of hatred for salted dairy products is precisely what this young man requires! Oh how naughty I am!”.

Dammit Gwydion…