You’re Hobbes. First of all, the makers of this
quiz would like to congratulate you. You have
our seal of approval. You are kind,
intelligent, loving, and good-humoredly
practical. You’re proud of who you are. At the
same time, you’re tolerant of those who lack
your clearsightedness. You’re always playful,
but never annoying. For these traits, you are
well-loved, and with good cause.
Brother oozed out of the shadows last night to pick up his Xbox and games. He picked up valuables, rambled a lot and was basically a jerk.
He’s been drinking, and probably using. I caught him in numerous lies, and he went off on the mother for not backing off of her commitment to never loan him money again. I watched him like a hawk while he went through his things… his broken brain wanted to go through some of my personal containers; things that hold
my tech stuff, and tools.
I’m glad that I can rely on Newt… fall back on his affection.
Interesting, that Islam keeps track of the moon’s shape by visual cues, to see when the holy month changes. MM will be scanning the sky for the crescent of a new moon to usher in Eid-al-Fitr, the three-day feast that signals the end of Ramadan, the Muslim month of fasting. I won’t know if she’ll be able to take call on Saturday until sometime Thursday night, it seems.
In bright light, the cast shadow is darker than the object’s darkest side.
You are skulking along a wood-chip covered excersize path. It’s lunchtime on a workday, but the region seems empty except for you and your skittering footsteps on the cedar bits. Your gaze wanders from ground to the horizon, and from behind a distant elm, a form emerges, almost too far to see with the naked eye. But, you keep walking, expecting nothing more than a friendly nod as you pass. They get closer. You see that the form is pushing a wheeled pram. Closer, you see see broad shoulders and a red beret. He is nearer, a wearing a fur coat and is smoking the stub of a stogie. Closer — a shining bandoleer crisscrossing a barrel chest. You and he are fifty yards apart. You, and a gorilla pushing a baby carriage are twenty yards apart. You approach on the heart trail, and look inquisitively into the cart, and see a brain in a jar. You nod. Monsieur Mallah cocks his submachine gun, and continues on his way.
1 year ago – Eclipso, Lady From Shanghai, Tomacco, fonts, Book Fair, pondering, maggot art, mirror, Witch
2 years ago – poetry search, Newtcam pic, Zombie, DTH, Stupidty, Rachel
3 years ago – evil news, tattoo poll, shirty, Bizarro, Da Vinci
4 years ago – Apologies for FL, clown, log sheets, sweet disorder, I knew a woman, crimson dreams, chupacabra