My Random Life

An election? In September? Yes. A stupid one.

You see, some Republicans got Big Mad at Governor Gavin Newsom when he made the decision to lockdown the state last year at the beginning of the pandemic. They decided to start a petition to remove (recall) him from office. California's state constitution allows voters to remove the governor via recall election if they get enough signatures.

How many signatures, you ask? 12% of the total votes cast in the previous election for the office of the person being recalled, or in this case, 1.5 million.

Yeah. That's all. Out of a state of nearly 40 million people. A state that is the 5th largest economy in the world.

Just 1.5 million people need to sign an official recall petition for a statewide vote to remove the governor from office.

(If you didn't know, a recall election is how California got Arnold Schwarzenegger for governor in 2003.)

If a simple majority (50% + 1 vote) of voters choose YES on their ballots, Gavin Newsom will be removed from office and whomever of the 46 candidates on the ballot gets more votes than anyone else (not even a majority vote, just more than the other candidates) will become California's new governor.

The current (as of today, August 20th) frontrunners are a very right-wing talk radio host named Larry Elder, and a real estate broker/YouTube personality named Kevin Paffrath. Neither have what you would call "political experience."

(Caitlin Jenner is also running. Just in case you were wondering.)

How do you get on a recall ballot in California? To replace the governor, the highest office in the state? Well, you need to complete the arduous task of forking over about $4000 and getting 7500 signatures of real Californians saying they back you as a candidate.

Yeah. That's all.

Oh, and just having this election is costing CA taxpayers over $250 million dollars.

So what's at stake if Newsom gets recalled?

Majority control of the US Senate.

You see, Senator Dianne Feinstein is 88 years old this year. She's been Senator since 1992. If she falls too ill to continue her duties, if she resigns, if she dies while in office, California does not hold a Senatorial election.

The governor appoints a replacement.

This is how we got our current junior Senator, Alex Padilla, after Kamala Harris was inaugurated as Vice President.

Let me say that again.

The governor appoints a replacement Senator if Dianne Feinstein cannot complete her term.

If enough people vote to recall Gavin Newsom, and a Republican, or Libertarian, or, let's be honest, any inexperienced wet sack that can be bought off by the highest bidder, takes his place, they will very possibly appoint a Republican Senator to replace Dianne Feinstein and put that fuckface Mitch McConnell back in control of the US Senate.

So please, please, if you're a Californian, make sure you're registered to vote, get your ballot, and vote NO on this stupid waste of money recall election.

More info:

www.sfgate.com/gavin-newsom-recall/amp/Gavin-Newsom-recall-poll-support-Elder-Paffrath-16390077.php

Voter guide:

my favourite thing ever in the history of this universe is the misogyny speech. i love it. i love it so much. 

for those who don’t know what the misogyny speech is: australia’s PM julia gillard was our first female prime minister and was bullied relentlessly throughout her career by sexist politicians saying that as a woman she was unfit to lead. and then. then. one day, julia gillard snapped.

the resulting three-minute speech, known simply as the ‘misogyny speech’ in australia, was possibly the most epic smackdown seen in australian political history, surpassed only by “i wanna do you slowly”. it was incredible. students memorised it and marched through the streets yelling it. a national australian choir arranged it as a five-harmony piece. even hillary clinton went out of her way to meet julia gillard and tell her how fucking awesome the misogyny speech was.

i, personally, have the misogyny speech memorised. because i live in tony abbott’s electorate, and my dream of dreams is to see him at the shops one day and follow him while yelling it.

According to a few colleagues it’s either a plant, an algae, or a fungi. So that’s been helpful.

After a day with some sunlight I think I might be seeing some chloroplasts.

I’m going to be in the field for the next 2 or 3 weeks but soon after that I hope to once again try to ID it.

Any botanists/mycologists who want to help out? I’m afraid if it’s not algae my ID skills are very rusty.

Here it is, in all it’s glory, after 2 years in isolation.

By now your players are probably going to think vampires or a cult. Therein lies the red herring.

The players go up to investigate. Maybe they pose as labourers, or guards from the town. That’s when they find the mansion is currently having a new extension built. Inside is a chaotic sprawl of dead ends, doors to nowhere, rooms within rooms, stairways that go into the ceiling, that sort of thing. There is no floor plan. The staff don’t like going anywhere alone. The family seems very large, with lots of children, but nobody will give you a clear answer on how many people live there.

The family, again, are wealthy, vain and eccentric. They were nouveau riche, but that was long enough ago that they can almost be considered old money by this point. The apparent family matriarch is oddly young, barely middle-aged. Her eldest son (16) is gearing up to take over the family business. There are assorted aunts and uncles, nieces and nephews, but no old folk. She insists her husband is ‘out’.

The family aren’t terrible, all things considered. They like to give tours of the house, and consider its architectural weirdness a charm point. They laugh at the incredible creepiness. You get used to it, they say. The staff don’t like to look at them. They’re all a bit artsy, and they love interior design - it’s why the keep expanding. The children aren’t creepy, but they are everywhere, usually gathered in flocks by harried-looking nannies. A headcount suggests dozens. Near the expansion you find a workshop making furniture for the new parlour. An uncle with big, tough hands. He barely notices when he nicks his finger with a chisel. He just looks at the wound with a tired resignation. He quickly smothers the injury with a rag when he notices the party. He’s the younger brother of the former, now-absent, patriarch.

Feel free to scatter more mysteries here. Talk to the workers and you find out that they constantly need new workers, but that’s because so many suddenly quit and leave. They don’t go back to the town. People disappear from the house, but it’s mainly the family. Older relatives, not young like you’d expect from vampires. A hidden portrait gallery, with hundreds of paintings. Nobody older than middle-aged at time of painting. The freshest painting looks like the matriarch’s eldest, but as a man, presumably his father. It was painted just last year. None of them have a date of death. A strange feeling of being watched in the newer bits of the building, and a tomb-like feeling in the hub. A beautiful, ethereal figure half-glimpsed in the background of several paintings, looking increasingly sour.

One night, an old crone arrives, begging shelter. When let in, though, she points at the matriarch and declares this whole place cursed, and if she had any love left in her ‘cold-wood heart’ she would tear this house to the ground and never come back. The crone leaves without another word.

At the end of the party’s stay, the family are ready to announce the grand opening of the new parlour. It’s rich, extravagant, all wood panels and hand-carved furniture. There’s a reception. The party might finally notice something weird about one of the chairs. The wood-grain almost looks like the jacket you saw in the patriarch’s painting. Whoops! Rumbled.

If you wanted a boss fight to close, this would be a good time for the uncle to transform. The party notice than his hands look less like skin now and more like gnarled wood. Too soon, he says. It’s his 35th birthday tomorrow, he says. Just one more night. The family look at him with a weird expression. Not fear. Certainly not sorrow. It’s almost ... hunger.

He begins to transform. He becomes a mighty tree monster, and bellows that they won’t take him alive. The fight commences. After he’s defeated, as a final blow, the new patriarch sunk a wood axe into his former uncle’s face. If necessary, the matriarch will explain.

Is the Shope papilloma virus 

“Where did all the antique vases in the foyer go?”

“Don’t you buzz at me, young lady! Get down here right now!”

“Stop trying to eat snow because you want to know what will happen! You KNOW what will happen!”

“Yes, Daniela, I want you to find true love, I just don’t think hanging up posters around the village advertising yourself is the way to do it.”

“Who got blood on the carpet?”

“Did you give Bela a black eye? ... No, it was not the opossum, try again.”

“Bela, if you don’t go to sleep, I will have to sedate you.”

“Just because your Uncle Moreau can breathe underwater doesn’t mean you can, too.”

“No, Angie is not— ... What did you just call her? Auntie Angie? Oh brother...”

“I am not calling a doll Auntie Angie. ... No, she’s— ... I am not disrespecting your aunt! ... I’m not even her niece!!”

“What did Auntie Angie let you do today?”

“I don’t care if Heisenberg let you race Lycans, I am your mother and I say no. ... NO HEISENBERG IS NOT GOING TO BE YOUR NEW MOM.”

“Why is there a horse in the parlor? How did you fit it through the door?”

“I should have kept you all as flies.”

“Cassandra, when did you have the time to remove the wheels on the five carriages? ... What do you mean you sold all the wheels?”

“Daniela, stop trying to eat your sisters’ flies because you want to know what they taste like!!”

“Bela, you didn’t kill yourself because, what? Heisenberg asked to watch Scooby-Doo with you and your sisters? Child, you concern me severely. Are you alright?”

I unfortunately don’t know any groomers, sorry!

Here’s a list of some of the vetblrs/ animal people I follow and can confirm theyre all pretty fab:

@lizziedoesvetpath

@vet-and-wild

@talesfromtreatment

@champawattigress

@drferox

@followthebluebell

@gettingvetted

@veterinaryhumor

@theexoticvet

@vetisntdead

Maggie hadn’t expected it to be so easy to scam the Imperial Authority, but then, Imperial Authority had a lot of work and there were nearly a thousand ships waiting to get through Customs. With papers that looked legitimate, presented by someone who looked like money, they were waved through with barely a glance. Maggie made a mental note of it, but since the lax security wasn’t actually hurting anybody, she probably wouldn’t do more than mention it to Luka.

Luka probably wouldn’t do anything about it either, except maybe put an Intelligence agent on the checkpoint to make sure nothing toodangerous was coming through.

“We’re never going through another checkpoint without you riding point,” Zaaba decided on their way back to the ship. Maggie laughed, still in the guise of Young Money with Zaaba and Kady serving as her personal bodyguards. Women, even those with obvious Other heritage, like Kady’s quarter-troll blood, were underestimated. It occasionally infuriated Maggie, but for now, it was useful. Being underestimated meant that no one was looking to closely at them for hidden motives. “That was the smoothest check-through we’ve had in years.”

Of course, it didn’t hurt that Maggie had a great many permissions on the ident card of Maggie Gol, including the authorization to bring whatever she wanted through a checkpoint.

That, however, was a secret she would keep to herself unless they found trouble. Zaaba would have questions if she knew, and Maggie didn’t want to try and explain why the Red Baron’s sister had Imperial Authorization.

“Why would they assume a problem?” Maggie said when they reached the Blackbird. “We have paperwork and don’t look like trouble. Customs only look closer when someone ha paperwork and looks nervous.”

“I expected you to look nervous,” Zaaba told her and raised her voice to their pilot. “Hey, Clunk, we’re clear. Get the hov-sled loaded up so we don’t have to carry everything to Salteyes’s people by hand. You’re cool under pressure, aren’t you, Girlie?”

“Unless there’s big magic, a gun to my head, or my brother in a temper, I assume it’s something I can handle.”

“You were alright with the kidnapping, too.”

“It wasn’t my first. I’m going to go get changed. This getup is pretty, but it’s been months since I wore any makeup and my face itches.”

“Yeah, go ahead, but get down here. I want you on delivery with us. You’re one of our better spell-slingers and I don’t trust Salteyes.”

“Alright. Ten minutes?”

“No hurry. Getting here was the hard part.”

A quick change later, her expensive dress, jewelry, and heels once again hidden in the bottom of her duffle, and Maggie made her way back down to the cargo hold. It was strange to realize that she felt ore like herself in rough canvas pants and a loose cotton shirt than she did in the polished finery she had lived in for most of her life. Maybe it wasn’t so unexpected, though. Luka felt the same, if his fondness for his red leather jacket was any indication.

By the time she was back, the hov-sled was loaded and they were ready to go. Maggie slid down the rail of the cargo hold just in time for Zaaba to pull her up to sit on top of the crates. As soon as they were ready, Clunk, who had no visible Other heritage but was a good pilot and a better sniper, pulled them out of the ship. Kady waved as she closed down the ship. Until they were back, no one would be getting on or off.

“We’re spending a week here,” Zaaba said as Clunk drove the hov-sled towards their drop-off point. “Next job is meeting us, so there’s time for everyone to have some fun once we get paid. Don’t to anything or anyone stupid, and if you get arrested, bail is coming out of your pay. Check in at least once every twenty-four solar hours. Everyone clear?”

“Aye, Captain,” Maggie said with the rest, entirely amused by the speech Zaaba gave every time they went on leave for a few days. Maggie had arranged for most of her own pay to go into a small account tied to her larger, personal accounts. It was pocket money compared to the royal account she shared with Luka, but her finances were her own business. “Are we still doing ship dinners?”

“If someone feels like making something, but frankly, I’m planning to eat out most of the time. We work too hard to eat our own cooking when we’re in port.”

A week. A glorious week of freedom to wander around Seti Base, which was as safe as anywhere, considering it was a newer base, and still had a substantial Imperial presence keeping the peace. There was plenty of fun to be had, too. Maggie had already sent a message to Luka to see if he wanted to meet up. The Rojawas never too far away, and he could usually find some excuse to be wherever he wanted to be. He had replied in minutes, promising to be there the next day.”

And she missed her brother.

“You especially, Girlie,” Zaaba said with a great deal of meaningful eye contact that was probably supposed to be a warning. “Don’t you get kidnapped again.”

“The last time was your fault,” Maggie pointed out dryly, and waved her captain off. “Relax, Zaaba. My brother is flying in tomorrow.”

“Red Baron is gonna be in port?”

“My brother Luka is going to be in port.”

Zaaba still had some trouble with the what of Luka, and his relationship to Maggie. Maggie was just hoping her captain didn’t kill her when she eventually found out who Luka, and Maggie, really were.

“Fine, fine,” Zaaba allowed reluctantly. “Are we gonna meet him?”

“If you want to. I promise he doesn’t bite.”

“Doesn’t have to, if he’s as electrical as you.”

“He’s not. So, what is there to do on this rock? I’m thinking dancing. There’s gotta be somewhere that has decent drinks and decent music.”

+++

HGE - Blackbird:

Crown Princess Lucia Therese Magdalene has taken to the sky like her brother, Luka, before her. With her name and her crown set aside, Maggie Gol will take the Human Galactic Empire by storm.

Hot Pepper Blackbird

Fixing What’s Broke

Smuggler’s Den

Penny Zap (Subscriber Only!)

Down the Delve (Subscriber Only!)

Whisper Comment (Free on Patreon!)

Profanity Biscuits  (Free on Patreon!)

Real Lady ( Subscriber Only!)

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More Stories!

NAVIGATING CONSENT

“Consent is so important, and often becomes a mess because communication is dismissed or misunderstood. That goes for all species!” 

- Grisha Stewart

One of the significant reasons for learning dog body language is so that we can have a two-way conversation with our dogs. So that we can listen to them (and understand them) and check our own behavior.

Dog body language is a conversation, not an observation. It is not a body part (eg. a tail) doing a thing and meaning something. Dog body language is never static. It is fluid and shaped by context. As I reiterate in my book, we always need to look at the whole body, the context, and what is normal/not normal for the individual dog. There is a back and forth relationship between how we feel and the environment/situation/company we are in.

Yesterday’s wonderful two-hour Doggie Language webinar with three animal behavior experts - Grisha Stewart, Kathy Sdao, and Chirag Patel  - is now online and viewable to everyone who has registered! We looked at dog videos in slow motion and there was so much to discuss that there will be a Part 2! (yay!)

REGISTER for Part 1: school.grishastewart.com/courses/doggie-language

If you are already registered, view the webinar in this PRIVATE facebook group