Horror Movie Hoedown Episode 3, plus general nonsense

 [EDIT: because of some idiot shitposting a load of comments about A MINOR'S boobs, anonymous comments have been disabled. Sorry for any annoyance this causes.]


In continuing my journey thru all the movies of that Buzzfeed post, the remaining unwatched films were either not readily available to watch, or were not free to watch, so I shan't be offering any opinion on them. Thus concludes my half arsed film review series.

Some general updates since my "hey y'all I'm not dead post" a while back:

The Bros and I went to see Wovenhand in Brooklyn.

Y'all should know at this point of my obsession with the music of Wovenhand. 

I got to say hey to DEE, and naturally acted like a bumbling buffoon. 

My friend Cyn and I went to Paducah, Kentucky at the end of September for the BBQ on the River Festival and basically did nothing but eat ribs and brisket and biscuits and gravy for a week. We also got to spend a couple days with Tempest, which was beyond amazing. A morning of Geocaching occurred, good times all round. 

Some highlights:

We drove to Kentucky, taking 2 driving days each way. Our halfway point is and will always be in West Virginia, because TUDOR'S BISCUIT WORLD.

I usually don't take photos of my food, but this is the best breakfast of biscuits and gravy you will ever have. 

We ate our way through the Festival in Paducah, KY with great enthusiasm.

one BBQ vendor of many

At our halfway stop on the way home, we made friends with this cat at the Super 8.

For Cyn's birthday, she received her very own 18th century gown. She's been wearing mine for years on Halloween, and when I saw this one gown with a peacock colour paisley design, it was just screaming her name too loudly for me not to get it for her. 

I've made some alterations to an older gown for my costume this year. Harleyquinn has discovered that panniers (the rigid underskirt necessary for Baroque fashion) make very nice beds.

I have to imagine that women in the 1700s also discovered this, and wandered about their homes with cats sleeping on their dresses. 


In other fun news, this past Saturday night, apparently my drunk ass ordered an entire pizza from the take out place next door to my apartment building, and I ate half of it. I have no memory of doing this. And it's doubly perplexing because, as most of you know, I HATE cheese. 

300 mg of seroquel in action, my friends. Pretty sure my liver is the 8th natural wonder of the world. 

Stop the world, I really f****ng want to get off.

We went camping this past weekend--me, Dadum, Stepmom, and both Lil Bros--to Ithaca, NY, to visit some waterfalls, the Mecca of Birdwatching, and watch the Tottenham Hotspur v. Liverpool game live in a pub.

While we had a good time, it felt like one thing after another kept going wrong. On the way up, Dadum's truck's check engine light not only lit up, but started flashing. We made it to the campsite and the 'rents found a mechanic to look at the truck on short notice, so hopefully problem solved.

Then something went wrong with the trailer's electricity. Not a huge issue, since--thank heavens--it didn't get hot enough at night to necessitate air conditioning, and the lights inside worked on their own batteries. But still, Mom and Dad had recently spent a considerable amount of time and money fixing various issues with the camper. There should not have been any electrical issues.

It rained a bit, but thankfully not as much as all of our weather apps had predicted. We saw some pretty waterfalls. 

I was traumatized by this sign at an ice cream stand in the park.

but managed to find comfort by befriending this spider

Dadum and I found a pub to watch the Tottenham v. Liverpool game over a few beers while Mom and both Lil Bros wandered Ithaca. Within the first like thirty seconds of the game, one of the refs made THE MOST RETARDED CALL IN FOOTBALL HISTORY and gave Liverpool a penalty kick for literally no reason at all. 

We lost 2 - nil. But otherwise it was a good game and despite losing, Tottenham had possession of the ball for like 80% of the game. 

On the way back into the campground, we noticed the most fantastic mini golf statue in the history of the multiverse. 

It took every last ounce of our willpower not to steal it.

We celebrated Lil Bro#2's 25th birthday Saturday evening, and sat around drinking and eating and generally being merry, even with the on and off rain. The Bros and I sat around the campfire chatting and laughing after Mom and Dad retired into the camper.

My phone rang. It was Mike the Band leader. I hadn't heard from him and his wife in a while, so I answered. I should have figured that it would be bad news, considering the call came at nearly 10.00 at night, but we'd all had quite a few drinks by that point.

I still wonder if maybe I shouldn't have answered. I mean, I would have found out anyway, but part of me wishes I had ignored the phone call and continued having a laugh with my brothers until we eventually turned in for the night. 

One of my friends (Drummerboy, who some of y'all might remember from when I was sort of dating him) was shot and killed in a diner parking lot on Saturday morning. By his own son. 

No one knows why. The best guess is an argument over money. They hadn't had a good relationship in years, mainly because of the kid and his mother demanding more and more money from Drummerboy even though he didn't have the money to give them. 

My friend's own fecking child MURDERED HIS FATHER over money. 

Friday I have to go to a family friend's wedding (we've all known each other since before any of us kids were born and our parents all worked for the same company in the 1970s). I've been dreading this since we got the invite, because I hate weddings in general (at least the stupid cliche weddings that literally every single couple I know has had over the years). 

Drummerboy's funeral is Friday at 11.00 AM. I had already planned to leave work early for the stupid wedding, so now Bossman and Bosslady are giving me a hard time about taking a full day off. Mumsy and I had originally planned to stay in a hotel after the wedding with Lil Sis, because it's kind of far from home. I told Mumsy that I will probably be ditching the wedding as soon as is socially acceptable so I can drive home.

Apparently this is incredibly selfish of me. 

So on Friday I'll be attending the fecking wedding after attending my friend's funeral, and I know I'm going to get a ration of shit if I don't act all happy and sociable at said wedding. The only reason I will resist getting blackout drunk is that I already desperately want to go home.

Mediocre At Best

Lil Bro#2 has been running a podcast for a while now. I appeared on last week's episode, and I think it was absolutely brilliant, in my humble opinion. 

Pretty much every episode is just Lil Bro#2 and his buddy rambling about everything and nothing. It's good craic. So give it a listen if you're bored and wish to be mildly entertained. 

You can find the podcast here, and also on the podcast phone app. If you're interested in the amazing playlist we discuss during episode 19, you can find it on Spotify if you search "Mediocre At Best - Easy Listening Mix." Listen to the songs in the order they are listed for the fully immersive experience.

In other news......... there isn't any.

This is not a dictatorship. This is America. Give me liberty, or give me meth.

I realize it is no longer winter here in the northern hemisphere, but I am too lazy and too unmotivated to make a new banner. 

Eleven is a mummy.

(From right to left: Coffee, Contemplation, and Barbara.)

For Easter last week, I went to Savannah, GA with the fam to visit Lil Bro#1. I have discovered that my vertigo is extremely unhappy with long train rides, and Savannah is really freaking hot. 

Here's a nice family photo, which may or may not be taken down depending on how paranoid I feel about it being posted here.

(from left to right: Lil Bro#2, Mich, Step-mom, Dadum, Lil Bro#1, and Lil Bro#1's girlfriend.)

It has been observed that if you ignore hair and eye colour, Lil Bro#2 and I are almost identical. 

Lil Bro#2 has started making podcasts, I think the first one is pretty hilarious. 

Savannah is beautiful though, even if it is too bloody hot.

I enjoyed the Spanish moss.

Art has picked up again. I've been trying to expand beyond mushrooms and four-seasons-trees. I'm rather proud of this one:

I had intended to give it to Dadum for Fathers Day, but I kind of want to keep it...


SOME EXCITING NEWS: ~*~*I FINISHED A BOOK*~*~*

It still needs some editing, and I think it might be a little too short, but it is done. YA fiction following a 17-year-old recovering from a heroin addiction. Anyone out there willing to be a guinea pig?



In other news........

Some really good TV shows I have recently discovered:

The 100 - the only TV show in the history of forever where I actually really really like almost all of the female characters. That one's on Netflix, and new episodes are on the CW app.

Shameless (the US version) - on Netflix. Lil Sis was nagging me for ages to watch this, and I kept ignoring her until I discovered Zach McGowan is in it. 

Black Sails - on Hulu. Big Sis#2 was nagging me for ages to watch this, and I kept ignoring her until I discovered Zach McGowan is in it. Also Maggie Smith's son is in it and he's brilliant. (And gorgeous.)

Black Mirror - on Netflix. Most of the episodes have left me deeply disturbed, but I can't stop watching.


newly discovered band: The Bad Light. Listen.




Have a good week, y'all. 

A Tale of Two Horses

Once upon a time, my late evil-stepfather owned a huge piece of property ("The Farm") out in the boonies of Tioga County, Pennsylvania. From about age 14 - 19, I spent many a long weekend up there with Mumsy, Lil Sis, Stepdad and his evil spawn, his and Mumsy's friends, and whatever one of my friends or cousins was lucky enough to be able to tag along. We rode around on the four-wheelers with total disregard for our own safety, played with rifles and shotguns, drank a lot, hung out in the hot tub in the middle of winter, ran from mountain lions (yes, they do exist in Pennsylvania and I do not care what the *experts* say to the contrary), and generally ran amok.

Before smart people stopped making Stepdad's business decisions for him, he had rather a lot of money and liked spending it on extremely frivolous things. Some time before we started visiting The Farm regularly, he decided to purchase two retired race horses.

For those of you unfamiliar with horsemanship, there is a very very large difference between the horses trained for showjumping and putting up with rich children, and racehorses. Also, much like pigs released into the wild, some horses left unridden and free to wander a lot of land without human interaction for a long period of time can go from tame to feral rather quickly.

So Stepdad--who knew absolutely nothing about horses--purchased two retired racehorses and basically left them to wander The Farm as they pleased. For like two years. They had access to the barn for food and water and shelter when they wanted it, but no one really went near them except for the blacksmith who came every few months and groundskeeper who made sure they had fresh food and water in the barn.

Upon arriving at The Farm the first time, Mich was told that the horses were unrideable, and that under absolutely no circumstances was I permitted to even attempt to ride them.

Naturally, Mich was determined to ride them.

Mumsy, however, was by then very wise to my inclinations with regard to wild horses, and so I did not get an opportunity to try riding the racehorses for quite some time. Until one day, when Mumsy and Stepdad and their friends decided to have lunch with some other friends in a town forty minutes away.

The moment their car drove out of sight, I sprinted for the barn. Shatoya, whose parents were staying at the farm that weekend, decided that she would also like to try riding a wild horse. We had a surprisingly easy time luring the horses out of their field and into the barn. They also stood still while we saddled and bridled them. I am pretty sure they knew exactly what they were doing and thoroughly enjoyed leading Shatoya and me into a false sense of security so they could do a better job traumatizing us later.

We did at least wear helmets. I'm not totally stupid.

I gave Shatoya a ten-second lesson on the basics of riding a horse, we mounted up, and off we went outside.

Any of y'all ever watch horse racing? Ever notice how when they're not galloping down the racetrack, each horse walks around tethered to a second horse? That's called a companion pony, or a lead pony. It's basically the racehorse's service animal to make sure it doesn't go totally freaking insane for no reason. Because racehorses are

TOTALLY

FREAKING

INSANE.

Our horses would not listen to any commands. They just wanted to alternate between leisurely exploring the fields outside their paddock, and RUNNING. I knew how to ride a horse at full gallop, but Shatoya had never so much as gone on a ponyride at a carnival. By the grace of God, she somehow managed to hold on, and actually enjoyed herself (although she told me later she was equal parts exhilarated and terrified).

So we had a grand ol' time hanging on for dear life while our horses galloped all over The Farm.

But then

Mumsy and the other adults came back.

Her reaction was more or less what I expected.

I was actually quite impressed she managed to stay in the car what with all the flailing and swearing.

It took us rather a long time to get the horses back to the barn. Shatoya ended up getting off her horse when he was standing still and leaving him to find his own way home. He wandered back to the barn eventually, and seeing him going home, my horse also decided that she'd had enough adventure for one day.

Back at the house, Mumsy shouted herself hoarse. Lil Sis threw the mother of all tantrums because why did Mich get to ride the horses and not her? Mumsy shouted some more. Shatoya's mother shouted a bit. Stepdad and Shatoya's stepdad laughed. The groundskeeper decided that Mich was some kind of witch.

A few months later in Ireland, Mich managed to ride Anorexic Auntie's wild horse (she got him as a baby, but then sort of lost interest and never trained him). This time with no saddle or bridle. I'm pretty sure the whole of County Galway heard Mumsy shouting.

Being part of a family means committing forgery for the ones you love.

 Emails and facebook messages with regard to my wellbeing are starting to pile up, so I figured I'd try to post something....

I had a nice week away in the beginning of the month staying with Tempest, who is beyond lovely. We did one of those Escape the Room things (twice--success in the art gallery heist, near success at the bank robbery), and wore period costumes on both Halloween and two days later for trivia night at the local brewery.

We ended up skipping trivia and playing Nintendo instead. We all mostly failed at Super Mario on NES, and then we broke Mortal Kombat on the Sega Genesis. 

I made friends with Tempest's cat, Pippin.

 I love him. He cuddled with me nearly every night I was there. (Presumably because the Simple Cat has trained me to keep up the petting and scratching even after I've fallen asleep.)

We also did lots of walking at various parks, as I successfully got Tempest into geocaching. I got super excited at one park when we saw a red squirrel,

  

and then we found a praying mantis.

 I moved him from the danger of the parking lot to the safety of the trees. Hopefully he did not wander back into the parking lot.

I made some clay thingies

Simple Cat/Ivy and Harley

self portrait

but they are nowhere hear as amazing as Tempest's creations.

I returned from my road trip on Saturday, Vienn Peridot in tow. Peri made friends with both cats immediately. I was amazed, as Simple Cat NEVER comes out of hiding when new people come over. Ivy loved Peri, and she spent most of Monday evening and Tuesday looking for her after she left.

I took Peri to Smokey's for dinner for her birthday. On Sunday we wandered the farmer's market with Lil Bro2 (and of course visited the Pesto Man), went to A.C. Moore and Michaels to spend far too much money on art supplies,* and then headed over to Dadum's for dinner, as Stepmom had cooked a nice chicken and rice dish in honor of the foreign visitor. After dinner, we all watched Babe and I totally forgot that Elrond did the voice of the sheepdog.

The following Tuesday night, we as a nation somehow elected Donald Trump as the next president. I did not get to vote, as Bossman made me stay at the office until after 6.00 PM, and then I had to go get groceries and petrol and visit the bank, and after sitting in like 2 hours of traffic on the way home, I was so aggravated and tired I really didn't feel like waiting around in the cold when it was so late I might not even have made it to the front of the line at the voting place (which would have been another 45 minutes in the car from my house).

Honestly though I had no idea who I planned on voting for. I had actually considered just flipping a coin because I don't even give a f**k anymore. I've had enough of the lesser-of-two-evils elections. I've lost all patience with the circus that is the United States government.

Last Friday, I made an appearance at my friend's daughter's 13th birthday party. Emma (the daughter) is a treasure., and possibly the only real fan of my books. I made her a art for her birfday.

I think it might be the best mushroom cottage yet.

I also hauled ass outta there after only an hour because small house filled with a large group of squealing shrieking 12 and 13 year old girls = HARD NO.

In other news..........

The week-long road trip was a wonderful distraction, but once I settled back into normal life, all the ick came right back. Emotional turmoil, extreme depression, general despair and hopelessness. The Doc has upped my meds, but I know that more antidepressants and mood stabilizers and sedatives will not fix the real problem. I do not know how to fix the real problem, so I've fallen back on unhealthy coping mechanisms.

I do not eat anything more than the cream in my coffee and a spoonful of peanut butter or a leftover piece of chicken, except for when I have to eat in front of people. This has actually been a pattern for some time, though I have not blogged about it because I had done so well with recovery and to slip back into the eating disorder seems like such a colossal failure I couldn't bring myself to admit it.

It came to a head a few days ago, when one of my friends posted an old photo on facebook, and then sent me a recent one of us hanging out.

I hate photos of me. I hate my reflection. I tend to avoid mirrors except when doing my makeup, so seeing photos of me is generally never a pleasant experience, but I can ignore them, brush it off, and move on.

Except the other day, when I saw M's recent photo of us, I kind of lost it. I feel huge. Unbearably huge.

Last night, I had an extremely vivid dream in which I got struck by lightning and died. It wasn't a quick death, but I was unbothered by the pain and the shock and instead my thoughts were more like FINALLY. When I woke up, I was so disappointed it took me like ten minutes to drag myself out of bed.

It's like Hyperbole and a Half put it in her post about depression--I don't necessarily want to kill myself, I just don't want to be alive anymore. If I didn't have the cats, things might be different, but for the moment I cannot bring myself to abandon them.

*Everyone is getting art for Christmas now because I'm poor.

Some things I accomplish when both bosses are away on vacation:

A month's worth of backed up filing.

Making jewelry.

Took me a while to get the hang of it because the tutorials I found online be like:

I found this cool pair of antique scissors in the tin of embroidery thread I bought 3 years ago and forgot about.

I fixed my sunglasses.*

And I made this totally sweet sculpture out of white-out.

In other news.......

One of my best friends got married Saturday. She began planning it the Monday before. (They've been engaged for like 6 years.) It was just for immediate family; I was the only friend present because she wanted me to take photos.

Quote of the day: "This is really just about having a photo shoot for my nails."

She did them herself and they perfectly matched her dress. (She wore black, he wore white.)

On Sunday I tried chatting with the Pesto Man. He does not seem remotely interested, which is not surprising at all because it's me and good things never ever ever ever happen to me where boys are concerned.

This coming Saturday, Loud Auntie and Anorexic Auntie are coming to stay for a week.

 Lil Bro#2 also comes home forever on Wednesday. I'm super excited. We've already planned our first trespassing adventure.

SEPTEMBER STARTS THIS WEEK!

:D

Which means summer is almost over.

And pumpkin spice season will soon be upon us.

:D :D :D

But perhaps most exciting of all, WOVENHAND'S NEW ALBUM COMES OUT ON SEPTEMBER 5TH. 

They just released another single from the album and it's really freaking amazing. I've already pre-ordered the album on vinyl. 

What did y'all get up to over the weekend?

*I sat on them.

I'm Going to Complain Now, Episode 77

 A couple people have inquired as to my well-being, so I figured I’d check in…

No news, I’m afraid. We went camping again last weekend. It kind of sucked, as it was 1,000 degrees out and then we got hit with a monster thunderstorm the second night. At least this time we were all in the camper.

It’s still 1,000 degrees. Praise the Lord, the summer is nearly over. I need to move somewhere with a nicer climate. Every day the weather is disgusting and hot, I check in on the weather in my dream location.

or 7 degrees C

It seems they are finally coming out of their three months without sunsets.

I’m counting the days until both Lil Bros come home at the end of August (even though Lil Bro#1 is only home for 2 weeks before leaving for grad school in Georgia >:O )

We plan on finally recording some songs together. Last weekend, Lil Bro#1 opined that “We could probably do some Tool songs, a couple of them don’t sound that hard,” to which Lil Bro#2 replied, “Astrophysics doesn’t seem all that hard, we could totally build our own quadjumper no problem.”**

We'll probably be covering a couple murder ballads, only tweaking the lyrics so the woman is telling the tale of killing her unfaithful husband. Because I am sick and tired of all these murder ballads about dudes killing their unfaithful wives.

You know what really tees me the eff off? The fact that I have to do this whenever someone is covering for me at the office:

It never ceases to blow my mind just how many people are

sooooooo

feckinnnggggggg

STUPID.

I swear, every encounter with these people shortens my lifespan a little bit. Like the people who can’t figure out how to sign their names on the line above their name, where the sticker says “sign here.”

That’s why we go through a lot of these stickers:

One time, I had to make an MS Paint picture of this lady's legal documents, with color-coded circles and arrows just to explain to her how to sign her name on the signature line, and get her signature notarized.

And I sh*t you not guys

SHE SIGNED THE MS PAINT PICTURES AND DIDN'T GET ANYTHING NOTARIZED.

This woman is the principal of a school. Like she is left in charge of running an entire school and she can’t even figure out how to sign her name on a signature line.

 Ugh.

**There will be no forthcoming Tool covers, because Lil Bro#2 only has one pair of arms for drumming, and I would need at least 1 extra bass player to mimic Tool’s sound because no one plays the bass like that.

Where's my boyfriend? I like that wookie...

Despite the unholy temperatures, camping was pretty fun. It cooled down at night, so at least Lil Bro#2 and I did not have to bail on our tent and flee for air conditioning.

It's funny how many little quirks and weird personality traits are already there in your brain, rather than being the product of your life experiences. This can be evidenced from Tuesday's campsite crafting hour, wherein Lil Bro#2 and I--without consulting each other--both felt the need to choose little ceramic monsters to paint, and we also felt it necessary that monsters should always have blood on their teeth.

 Aside from reading and drinking, most of us spent the camping trip playing Pokemon Go. Even Big Sis#2 is playing. All of us are completely inept at it, although I must say I am proud of my collection so far.

Eevee will have a better name later; apparently calling it "Rainer" is the only way to guarantee it turns into the Mermaid Dog, which is the only reason I'm playing this.

Because the Mermaid Dog is the best thing ever

next to the Pink Flying Kitten, who I'm not even sure you can catch in this game.

All ridiculousness aside, Pokemon has actually gotten me motivated to get of my lazy arse and do some exercise. You have to walk certain distances if you want to hatch the eggs you pick up (2 km, 5 km, or 10 km depending on the egg). I've got 8 eggs waiting to be hatched, so I need to walk 34 km to hatch all of them.

This game has also had some positive effects on the kids in town. The post office across the street from my apartment is a Pokestop, and it seems that all the village children have thrown aside cliques and differences in age in favor of hanging out together over there most evenings to catch Pokemon.

Also, the Wit's End Tavern is a Pokemon gym, which amuses me to no end.

Any of you guys playing? It's good craic.