The August and Eccentric Blog of JKL-FFF

(With my ocs!!!)

The Diamond Dogs (who I made as a lil homage to david bowie ^^) vs. The Crystal Cats (their doppelganger).

The members of the Diamond Dogs are:

Sirius Starlight (vocals), Great Dane, he/him, from Liverpool, UK

Rocky Road (guitar), Laborador, she/her, from Dallas, TX

Belladonna FruFru (bass), Shih Tzu, from Brooklyn, NY (just like me!)

Goldie Beetles (drums), Golden Retriever, from Sydney, Australia

Kitty Ortega (keyboard), Chihuahua, from Bogotá, Colombia

The Crystal Cats members: Mary Stripes (vocals), Calico, from Queens, NY Charlie Darling (guitar), Maine Coon, from London, UK Sunrise Shine (bass), Ragdoll, from Raleigh, NC Sunset Star (drums), Ragdoll, also from Raleigh (Sunrise and Sunset are twins ^^) Yuki Masuyama (keyboard), Bobtail, from Osaka, Japan

Who are you rooting for?

So if I understand correcly, the Crystal Cats are a feline reflection of the Diamond Dogs. If so, I'm rooting for a collaboration.

It's what Sir Bowie would've wanted.

Mine was Dragon Ball GT/ Pokemon/ Yu Gi Oh, iron man: armored adventures (I think) and Lego Batman on Wii and Super Mario Bros on the DS

Excellent questions! With your permission, I might use the "What was your first exposure to ___?" as a type of question for SGT.

For my part ...

Anime was either Tenchi Muyo or Ruroni Kenshin. If you're a fan of The Owl House, Ryoko from TM was a major inspiration for Eda Clawthorne.

And RK was pretty OK (heh heh!), in my opinion. Very sword-swinging.

For super heroes, though, it;s a bit harder to say. With anime, my first exposure (that I can recall) happened when I was a teenager, which makes it easier to speak with any kind of certainty. I don't think anime was particularly well-known or popular or whatever where I grew up until I was a teen.

But super heroes are a very USAmerican genre, so they were omnipresent during my childhood via cartoons and such. Like, how do I determine which was first--how do I sort the memories? Was it X-Men? Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles? Power Rangers? *shrug* Let's go with X-Men, just for the sake of argument.

And for video games ... I vaguely remember a game where you fly a helicopter to try and rescue people while dodging enemy fire. It was on the Sega. Air Rescue or Rescue Chopper or something like that? Heck, I can't even find gifs for it, that's how old it is ... How old I am, damn ... Heh. I also remember my dad playing this game, sometimes, and deliberately trying to squash the people (little stick figures) we were supposed to rescue. Which you absolutely could do.

Your kindness is much appreciated. So long as the comfort food does NOT include bananas.

Because, in total and from different people (being very kind, I want to make clear--I am extrememly grateful for the kindness, in general, if not the bananas specifically), we have received no less than SEVEN WHOLE BUNCHES OF BANANAS. Or, to put it in other words, about FORTY-NINE to SIXTY-THREE INDIVIDUAL BANANAS.

Apparently, there are *six* stages of grief, and one of them is bananas. I'm starting to think the real color of death isn't black, but yellow. The Grim Reaper doesn's actually have a scythe, but a staff with a banana taped to it.

There should be a poem about this. Something raw and and and ragged. But also refined, reifying his intelligence and his many facets in a scintilatting synthesis of words. He loved clever turns of phrase and cunningly wrought arguments. He was a man of words, and he worked hard to make words work hard for him. There should be a poem about that which somehow also expresses that he died on Thursday.

There should be a memorial to the man that evokes grief and and and emotion, but also something ... more? his humanity, or his "superhumanity", maybe? How he was a man, and we are all struggling with the loss, but also how he was more than the average man, and that leonized version should be be remembered.

Maybe?

How do I write the truth of him in all its mundanity and its pettiness (he never closed doors properly, he never wiped the toilet seat, he never looked at produce when he bought it so I often had to throw away fruit and vegetables that were already turning bad two days after he bought them, he put ketchup on his Mexican food and had the all spice tolerance of Wisconsin white woman named Gertrude or something) while also commemorating his virtues and ideals? How do I write something like that?

Should it include the spiraling and stuttering and sudden voids that keep grabbing my mind? Like how I still can't fully believe he's dead (on a Thursday morning, in a bathtub-- isn't death supposed to have more to it than a Thursday morning?), like how I keep flashing from thoughts of one task to another that all need to be done to take care of my mother and my siblings and my job and the house and the dogs, like how I suddenly am so very, very tired (and could just slump prone on the sidewalk and lie there, vacant and facedown, until ...

until when? after I sleep for a few hours? afterthe funeral? after the world becomes different and makes more sense and doesn't feel like a joke where death can happen on a Thursday? after I'm not so godsdamned tired all the time?)?

There should be ... something to this--anything to this. I don't know what. I don't know how. I don't know why. After all, surely other people must've died on Thursday. And on prior Thursdays, too. One in seven people, statistically speaking, will have died on a Thursday. That's just how population statistics work. Yet it seems ... inadequate and absurd, like a vapid joke, to say, "Dad died on Thursday."