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When I was in high school, I was the part-time henchperson of a Mad Scientist.

I’m not exaggerating about “Mad Scientist”.  “Riley” (Name changed for his family’s privacy) was a former Medical Doctor, as well as an artist, microbiologist, pilot (as in, designed and flew his own experimental aircraft), magician, computer programmer and musical composer, and had an outbuilding attached to his house where he kept things like his hand-made 3D printer, electron microscope and drone-dirigible assembly devices.

Riley had ALS and was eventually wheelchair-bound, so by 2006 I was being called in on the odd school night or weekend to go out around FoCo and the surrounding mountains. “I need a younger set of legs and someone with no fear of heights” He’d say.  Being that I was a very boring child that had no interest in sex or drugs and always called when I was going to be late, and that Riley was a trusted family friend, My parents trusted me to go out at like 9PM  and come home at 2AM on a Tuesday.  

…To do things like scale locked fire escapes and climb around on rooftops that we DEFINITELY did not have permission to be on to do things like install speakers and bluetooth broadcasting devices at strategic points around Old Town so that if you download the right app onto your phone (I’ve got it backed up somewhere, I’ll post it when I find it) , you can walk around town and be exposed to the ghostly, extremely shady side of FoCo history for his 2007 Halloween project.

We did get caught by the cops but I was 17, short and white as goddamn mayonnaise so when the cops asked me what I was doing “It’s for a community art project!” actually worked.

My favorite Mad Science Project was in 2009, Gallus rostromegalus.

I was home from college for summer, and Riley had been messing around with Rotational Physics and had managed to make Giant (24’ x 18’) extremely realistic Chicken eggs, weighted and everything so that if you picked one up, it would feel like there was a heavy yolk wobbling around inside.  They’re amusing all on their own, but after leaving them in the slash pile from spring cleaning, Riley realized they had POTENTIAL.

So we went around getting permission from a few businesses and the art museum, and I spent a few nights making plausible enormous chicken feathers in Riley’s lab out of grass, acrylic glaze and some other odds and ends laying around, and filling up the back of my mom’s van with as much of the backyard slash pile as fit in there, then drove out in the middle of the night to set up giant nests for the eggs, strewn with feathers and surrounded by Traffic cones and orange construction mesh and signs from the entirely fictitious “Department Of Fish And Wildfowl, Specious Relocation Division”

(an incomplete nest on the steps of Fort Collins Museum of Art)

(signage, responsibly warning people to stay away in case of giant chickens)

Riley even made QR codes that linked back to an obviously false Wiki- if you scrolled to the bottom, the page was covered in feathers and after five minutes it would start to make chicken noises.

People. Went. INSANE.

Crowds turned up to take selfies with the nests and Riley tracked down literally dozens of tagged photos captioned “IS THIS REAL????”.  

Someone wrote a very worried and not terribly facetious-sounding letter to the editor concerned that Giant Chickens were roaming around FoCo, something that big could hurt someone!  There was an entirely-serious-sounding counter-letter that we Humans have clearly invaded this majestic creature’s natural habitat, where are they SUPPOSED to make their nests, huh?   

Multiple people called the police to report having seen the elusive Gallus rostromegalus up in the hills or skulking around downtown. Reports claimed it was anywhere form five to twelve feet tall, with dramatic plumage and an eerie, yodeling sort of call.

A few nights after installing each nest, we went back, collected the eggs, and left broken ‘eggshells’ and extra down feather around each of the nests. One of the nests was put up at the local Garden Center and I remember one of the assistant managers coming outside just after we finished the ‘hatching’ and shrieking “OH GOD I THOUGHT THOSE WERE FAKE THEY’LL GET TO THE TOMATOES SOMEONE CALL THE POLICE!”  That woman would later become my manager when I worked there for a summer, though she never made the connection between me and The Chickens.

Riley passed away in 2015 after a good and well-lived life, and was kind enough to leave me The Eggs in his will.

It was a truly splendid bit of ruckus, and I miss him terribly, and I very much treasure the memories.  And the Eggs, which I am absolutely going to inflict on some unsuspecting neighbors at some point, in his honor.

Got woken up at 6AM by a phone call from a friend stranded in Montana because of the heat wave and almost no cell service because of their crap provider.

OhSoThat'sHowIt'sGonnaBe.jpg

Ok.

I somehow summon a week's worth of spoons and in less than 30 minutes and 5 phone calls, get them

A hotel

An appointment with a mechanic from 2 states away

A perscription refilled from 2 states away

and A Pizza

Go me.

But then it's 8AM and there are unscheduled live humans at the door and while EVERGENCY MODE is still on, I have already blown through a ton of spoons, and also probably shouldn't meet whoever it is wearing just a pair of bootyshorts that say "CRYPTID" in Gothic Font on my ass.

So I greet them in those shorts and a T-shirt that I manage to put on both inside out and backwards

#nailedit

It is, Fortunately, not the mormons.

it is, Unfortunately, two UPS guys trying to deliver my other in-house friend's new phone except the new guy doesn't know how to operate the "sign for package" device, and the old guy that's supposed to be mentoring him is like, 92, deaf as a post, and doesn't actually know how to operate the device either.

by the way

it is already

over 100 out

it takes almost 30 minutes to sign for the phone

when i get back inside, i discover that apparently the Corgi has learned how to open his kennel from the inside because he is now out of the kennel and waiting for me to come in.

he also has cat litter all over his face because while he was waiting for me he also learned how to open the baby gate to the cat's room and help himself to a cat shit breakfast.

He'll be fine

He's a cattle dog, they're legally required to have at least 1 really disgusting snack they love.

but

more to the point

i have no idea at what point he learned to open his kennel from the inside

has he been staying there out of politeness this whole time??

And

I got other shit to do today.

namely.

I'm seeing a realator

The Devils most pathetic yet effective demons

I get a reminder text that I have an appointment with her

at least

I think that's what it is because what she sends me is: "🏡⏰12:00 ❔"

With the time typed in the middle like that.

She is, according to her profile, at least 80.

so I reply "😎👍"

and then she sends me a string of GODDAMN POST-MODERN EMOJI HEIROGLYPHICS THAT TAKE UP MY ENTIRE SCREEN.

She's on an iPhone so half of them don't even translate across platforms

It takes me half an hour and three different software programs and goddamn wingdings to translate, but she has sent me the address and rules about masking and not wearing shoes inside.

in emoji

instead of like

literally any other format

I am

FASCINATED

It's not fairies

It's Doris.

I'm going to see a prospective house because due to various circumstances, I'm probably going to be moving to the other side of a major metropolitan area in the next few months, but that's not important.

I get to the house

I get a text from the realtor

The realtor is not the person who has been texting me in emoji

The person texting me in emoji is the homeowner, who the realtor says will let me in if I want, she's running late.

Sure

Why not

I put Herschel on leash and go to the front door

As much crime as he commits at home Herschel The Hanukkah Goblin has terrific public manners, and is Very Cute so I'm about 90% sure the emoji fairy is going to let me take him through the house

Door opens.

90-something blue haired old lady with a spine like a question mark and glasses that could be used as telescope lenses opens the door.

"OH [Gallus]! How lovely to see you!"

This woman clearly knows me because she remembers my anniversary was last week and that my sister is back from Australia.

Problem is

I know about 500 geriatric ladies with blue hair, scoliosis and extreme prescription glasses, because I am a member of 2 quilt guilds, the scientific illustration guild, the rocky mountain SCA and stagehand for three different theater companies, so I know everyone's grandma and fuck me if I can tell them apart.

Wait

There's a quilt in thekitchen, visible front hall

I don't know faces but apparently I can recognize applique techniques at 40paces.

"...Doris? From SAQA?"

"YES! Who is this handsome little man?"

Herschel speaks enough English to know that "handsome little man" means "this person will feed me milk bones and bacon if I'm cute enough"

Immediately does a Sit Pretty and Shake.

Doris is bewitched

This is fine, but I also know I'm about to severely disappoint the realtor because there is no way in hell I'm moving into this House.

Because

The reason Doris is moving out is that her neighbor is a Cunt Magnifique and has been harassing Doris and everyone else to form an HOA and "improve the quality of our residents" because this woman has nothing better to do than be a racist-ass busy body, and recently, she's set her husband, a county sheriff on Doris, trying to bully her into signing paperwork and threatening her with legal action and writing her up for bullshit property violations

Ain't putting up with that shit

And neither is Doris, so she's selling all her shit and moving out to live with her grandchildren in Santa Monica.

But she's technologically impaired, so the only indication that there is an estate sale happening is a small paper sign in her front yard.

"Doris." I say, as Herschel makes himself comfortable on the couch for belly rubs and pieces of ham. "Did you tell SAQA or FRCC or anyone on Facebook that you're having the sale?"

"oh, I don't know how to do all that!" She sighs. "I tried to call the Denver post but they just put me on hold for ages..."

"Watch Herschel for 20 minutes and he's only allowed to have that one piece of ham."

Pics of everything

Address, time and pics to Facebook, both quilt guilds she's in, two more I have contacts for, nextdoor, and the local SCA discord for good measure.

It's 12 minutes and Herschel persuaded her to give him at least three pieces of ham.

He is petitioning for a fourth by doing a little puppy dance on the living room rug.

"OK, that's enough ham, people will be here in 10. Where is your cash box?"

Because apparently I'm running an estate sale today too.

It's fine :)

There's about 7 minutes of quiet.

Then

They DESCEND

The first on the scene is DeeDee, who doesn't believe in speed limits. She's arrived with a horse trailer. I remember that she is also moving.

"HI DORIS SWEETHEART WHY DIDN'T YOU CALL I HAD NO IDEA THIS WAS TODAY I WAS GOING TO TAKE ALL THIS TO THE GOODWILL HERE LET ME SET UP ON YOUR LAWN "

DeeDee is 73, and has a special spiritual bond with Hello Kitty. She weighs like 98lbs, dresses exclusively in neon pink sanrio clothes and the kind of eye makeup drag queens aspire to.

She also speaks non-stop at a volume normally associated with jet engines.

Half the horse trailer is already spread out on the lawn.

Doris is putting price stickers on stuff

Herschel is trying to tear open a bag of cotton batting.

This, and the arrival of approximately 56 minivans, five more trucks with horse trailers and Corgi Excitement Screaming alert Cunt Magnifique that something is happening outside.

Madame saunters off her porch up to Doris and Demands to know what's happening, you're supposed to notify the neighborhood and get a permit to-"

Doris, surrounded by her pack of silver wolves, shouts. "OH HELLO! EVERYONE, THIS IS MARCIA. I'VE TOLD YOU ALL ABOUT MARCIA." >:)c

You know those high school house parties you see in movies, where the person invites only a few friends, but those friends call their friends, and those friends call THEIR friends and soon like 500 people show up to one house and someone calls the cops and that one John Mulaney sketch with "SCATTER!" happens?

Old people will 100% do this too, except instead of a house party it's an estate sale on a wednesday afternoon and when the cop shows up there are lawyers present and he is in DEEP SHIT because his wife just spent the afternoon admitting to doing a bunch of wildly illegal shit on tape.

So when we left off, the party had really started getting underway, because Marcia the Cunt Magnifique had decided to crash the estate sale and whine about "we're supposed to coordinate garage sales as a neighborhood" and "your friends are blocking traffic on this cul-de-sac while nobody is home" weh weh-

DeeDee is about ready to throw hands but she is nowhere near the most dangerous of the Silver Silver Wolves.

That's Dr. Ruth.

Dr. Ruth turned 99 this year and went paragliding for her birthday

So you understand just how hard she goes

Dr. Ruth sort of hobbles over and point-blank asks "So I understand you've been trying to start a homeowner's association?" :3c

Marcia

Entirely misunderstanding how much danger she's in

Starts enumerating the TRIALS AND TRIBULATIONS of trying to start one, because SOME PEOPLE DON'T RESPECT AUTHORITY and all the paperwork and talking to people and she even had to ask HER HUSBAND. A SHERRIF. To go around and hand people stuff to sign.

Some people, right?

Dr. Ruth nods. Some people. She agrees.

You know.

Her son is a lawyer.

Why doesn't she give him a call?

Marcia, a Moron: Oh that'd be great!

Dr. Ruth, hobbling back to Doris: "Don't worry. David will handle this."

Meanwhile

The Friends-Of-Friends and the Friends-Of-Friends-Of-Friends are arriving, lured in because they heard the words "Longarm Sewing Machine" and "Hand-made quilts"

Various factions present include but are far from limited to: -Probably Six Quilt Guilds -The Denver Art League -The Denver Leather League -The Vikings -The Klingons -The Colorado Wild Game Share -A Pack of Scientific Illustrators -A Pack of Assorted Scientists they brought with them -The Sheep Lesbians -The Horse Lesbians -Three Extremely Competent Finnish People (My Scientific Illustration Professor and her sisters) who immediately take over the estate sale and turn it into an auction to maximize profit and keep the taxes in order.

Someone brings two additional Corgi called "Cap" and "Bucky"

They are Pembroke Corgi, and weigh about 21lbs apiece

Herschel is a Cardigan Welsh Corgi and weighs 42lbs because he's hug even for a Cardigan, and is Delighted with his New Minions.

They worship him as a God and follow him around so every time he sticks his face in something two smaller corgi faces immediately follow, like some kind of adorable cerberus.

Pelts and meat shares are being traded out of the backs of trucks and vans

Someone is making bratwurst.

Intrigued by the Brouhaha, Doris' neighbors emerge.

They are also Geriatric and very nervous, because Marcia has been harassing them too.

They are telling this to the members of these factions that are also lawyers.

There are at least 5 of them so far and David isn't even here yet.

I realize my realtor isn't even here.

I decide to text her.

She is somewhere in the crowd and having a nervous breakdown because She's SO LATE!!!

Ma'am.

It's 103 out.

I was just handed a freshly grilled Brat

Some bitch is incriminating herself on the lawn.

Nothing scheduled is happening.

Come sit in the yard and watch the Corgis play on the Palyskool plastic slide set. They're disassembling it like tiny furry engineers.

Have a bratwurst.

One of the Klingons appears, having physically carried my realtor through the crowd, and gently deposits her on the lawn before handing her a Bratwurst.

Diane, the Realtor, is not much older than I am, and from the preppie swaths of society that has "Never had a dog growing up" and "Didn't Know People Could Just. Make. Blankets?" and "What is this? It's like a hot dog but spicy?"

She is having a LEARNING EXPERIENCE.

One of the Horse Lesbians comes over and compliments Diane on her Dior handbag.

Diane thanks her ans compliments the apparently expensive brand scarf she has on. Do you. Know all these people?

Horse Lesbian explains that she's part of the SCA, and what that is, and that why yes. Her girlfriend Tasha is an armorer. Yes like for knights.

More Livestock Lesbians assemble.

They are pulling off shirts to show off livestock and battle scars, and biceps.

Diane is LEARNING A LOT TODAY.

I am just getting everyone's contact info and making sure Herschel does not consume his weight in bratwurst.

BWOOP!

Uh-Oh.

Marcia's Husband is here.

I step out front.

He has used the siren to largely part the crowd and pull into his driveway but it has closed around him and there is No Escape.

He starts huffing and puffing about blocked traffic and permits and the like, but this is not his usual Can-Bully-Without-Consequences crowd.

These are Grandmas.

Veterans of the 60's protest front who never let up.

He's starting to turn bright red and looks like he's about to cry and I've got my phone out to record whatever Incident is about to occur.

-And a Mercedes pulls up.

It's David.

Dr. Ruth's son.

The Lawyer.

And I emphasize that The because David is not some mere ambulance chaser.

David is the guy that the state sends to prosecute Corporate Fraud and Organized Crime and Other State Departments.

David was part of the team that took down the CO Branch of the KKK.

David is all of 5'4", very round and a balding little man that looks like the Dictonary Definition of "Nebbish" that moves with such intense confidence and authority that he pretty much has the Pillar Men Theme Blasting behind him at all times.

So when he and three other lawyers from the state's office step out of the car

Mr. Sherrif goes from red to while like color-changing octopus and I am like 50% sure he shit himself.

Because what he and Marcia have been doing is Very, Very, Very, VERY, Fucking Illegal.

"mArCiA!" he garbles. "sHuT tHe fUcK uP!"

Marcia is standing in the middle of the cul-de-sac, having spent the last 3 hours recounting to anyone who will listen about the 'measures she's had to take' and now the 5 lawyers that were here are delightedly handing over the paperwork that she had forced on Doris and her Neighbors, and pointing at all the doorbell cameras and witnesses out to the state's top prosecutor.

Friends

I ugly laughed.

FOUR HOURS LATER: -Auction wrapped up with a solid $40K to Doris' name plus pending sales on some of her larger furniture and antiques

Plus whatever David gets in damages from the county sherrif's office.

Marcia and husband are fucking busted

Herschel spent all afternoon running around and eating snacks and is passed out on the floor

Diane is "meeting up with" one of the Horse Lesbians next week.

The sewing machine went to someone else but I did open my purse and found out Doris or someone shoved a bunch of cash in there.

Dog Tax:

Little Ham Man himself.

2. What was Illegal about what Officer and Mrs. Cunt Magnifique did?/If they're hosed, are you moving in?/Does Doris still have to move out?

I don't know all the details, but Officer Magnifique was going door-to-door, in uniform and armed, telling his neighbors they had to sign this paperwork or there would be legal consequences, which is pretty textbook coercion and abuse of office. Also If I understood the summary someone told me while I was dying of heat exhaustion, the actual legal setup they were trying to push was some shady land-ownership/tax evasion nonsense too.

But also. All of this happened YESTERDAY. Charges aren't files (tho they are definitely coming) let alone the trial held/conviction/payout or other consequences, so they could still be living there and involved in active litigation for like. A year. And it's an unfortunate truth that living near a cop that's having a meltdown is a great way to get shot.

So No. I'm not moving in there.

Also, Doris originally brought up the idea of moving because of them, but she is also very close to her granddaughter and they both want her to move out there.

3. You live like this/How do I get a life like that?

The process is fairly simple, but takes a lot of work. It goes like this

Go Outside. And do things. In person.

Specifically, go join a bunch of organizations that are relevant to your interests, and keep showing up to/participating in those events.

People will notice and remember you. They will notice and remember you faster if you're like 40 years younger than them and have purple hair but I digress. They will come over and say hi. You say hi back, and talk about your mutual interest. Also listen to what they have to say about your mutual interest.

GET AND SAVE THEIR CONTACT INFORMATION, THEN GIVE YOUR CONTACT INFORMATION. Everyone you meet. It's actually great to print out business cards with your contact info and hand them out. When saving contact info, I make a note in my contacts about name/where I met them/who introduced us/any random fact they divulged because I have the memory of a sieve.

Introduce all your new friends to each other, and invite them to any event you think might even vaguely be within their interests. Even if they can't come, it's nice to be thought of. They will also invite YOU to things and the rule is: UNLESS YOU ARE ILL, GENUINELY BROKE OR ALREADY HAD PLANS, SAY YES. Even the "broke" bit is flexible because if you're making friends with Boomers you can say "Hm. I'd love to, but that's not within my budget" and there's a good chance one of them will pay for your ticket anyway. Go to these things, and enjoy yourself.

Eventually, you will know approximately a fucktillion people in a bazillion fields, and in an emergency, you can make 2 phone calls and a facebook post and summon the hordes. You will also be constantly invited on Adventures.

Congrats, you've made your life mad complicated and dramatic but very, very fun.

4. Are. Are you alright OP?

LMAO.

Things will probably calm down by Tuesday Afternoon, but until then I'm gonna be running on all cylinders until the wheels fall off. If you want to contribute to my "Stress Ice Cream/Herschel's Special Little Ham Boy Fund" You can Donate to my Ko-Fi, and if you want more stories, check out the #Family Lore tag on this blog, or head over to my Patreon for additional stories/to pre-order the book I'm writing about my and my ancestor's lives because this shit runs like rivers on both sides of my family.

5. Were you wearing the Cryptid Booty shorts for this?/Where did you get them?

The man does not know from cheese. The man "ain't never seen no cheese but orange before" and "I showed ya list to the cheese lady so if it's wrong it's her fault ok?"

I am 80% sure she sent him there for a really specific bleu cheese, 40% sure he does not have the very specific bleu cheese, and 100% sure he's done with her shit.

Our flight is delayed.

Cheese man has been demanding payment because apparently he went like six hours out of his way and paid with his own money and between the cheese and price of gas, he is pretty sure he does not have enough money in his account for an Uber home.

The lady is FLABBERGASTED that he is demanding payment at all, as she was under the impression he was doing this for her out of the goodness of his heart.

"OR ELSE WHAT?"

"I'm gonna-? THE BABY SHOWER? MONICA CAN'T EVEN HAVE THIS CHEESE SHE'S PREGNANT!"

"The cheese lady asked if it was for someone because the mushrooms or whatever in the cheese are dangerous for the baby or something?? You wanna poison Monica?"

"WHY WOULD I LIE ABOUT THAT?"

"YEAH OF COURSE I GOT THE CHEESE, THATS WHY I DON'T GOT MONEY FOR UBER!"

"YEAH, GO TELL! GO TELL MOMMA I STOPPED YOUR STUPID ASS FROM KILLING MONICA OR THE BABY! FUCK!"

*hangs up phone*

*head in hands, borderline hyperventilating*

The man in the three piece suit is in the chair next to him. He waits a moment, then reaches into his carryon and pulls out an entire bottle of wine with the TSA pre check sticker on it, and taps cheese guy on the shoulder.

2. Cheese guy is crying a little about the cash and opening up about his problems. The cheese lady is his younger sister. Suit guy is being very generous with his Pinot Blanc. We are having a picnic/improv family therapy session.

3. This is apparently the latest in a long string of his sister asking for something and then flaking when he asks to be paid back. Started with paying him back only some of what he was owed, then claiming something she paid for him was of equal value when it was not, then recently telling him his memory is wrong and he said it was a gift or that he'd do it for free.

"Yeah, the specific thing of trying to convince you your memory is unreliable is called gaslighting and it's really fucked up." I say

"yeeeeah. The other stuff I forgave because she's never really had a good job so she can't pay me back all the time but at least she was making an effort y'know? But that was. That was over the line."

"If you haven't already, check on the rest of your family's finances. My brother started trying to gaslight everyone when he started stealing from our parents." Says Pinot Blanc.

4. Shiba Inu Lady has purchased a cheddar. Apparently, the dog's name is Donut, and he's her service dog because she's severely visually impaired.

"Oh, he's a guide dog?" Asks cheese guy.

"oh, no." She laughs. "He's too short, and the way my eyes are, it's easier for me to navigate with a cane. No, the problem I have is that some morally impaired people see the cane and think they can get away with stealing my bag or assaulting me because I wouldn't be able to give a description- which is wrong, but rather than deal with that I got Donut, and he helps me by howling at anyone who gets in my personal space and biting anyone who grabs me!"

"Uh." Says Kirigumi. "He's been staring at me do I need to back up or..?"

"Ohdear! No, no- He wasn't looking at you! He loves cheese but he knows he's not supposed to beg so he decided the way to deal with something he wants but can't have is to stare in the other direction."

"OKAY!" Says Kirigumi. "I'm wearing fox pajamas and thought like. He thought I was another dog or something."

"No, no- he doesn't care about dogs, and you get a warning before he goes for the calves. Very helpful, when I was living in Italy!"

"Oh what part? I have family in Tuscany." Says Pinot.

2. I know they're planning to continue because Pinot talked to the gate agent so he and cheese guy can sit together and talk about family drama and cheese.

3. Pinot has been teaching him about different types of cheese and how to enjoy them.

4. Cheese guy apparently repairs computers and other technology devices for a living and is currently doing the software version of scraping barnacles and other crap off Pinot'macbook.

Now that I've heard the word aloud, and they are an astrophysicist. Who correctly believes in being comfy as fuck on planes. They are also familar with the concept of a meet-cute and is rooting for them too.

Got to walk the nice lady and her Tactical Assault Shiba to her next gate because it was on the way out and talk for a bit. Donut is called that not because he is the color of a Donut (which he is) but because he likes to sleep curled up in a perfect circle. He has a sister who does the same thing named Bagel.

Lost track of Pinot and Cheeseguy for a bit but when I saw them again at Baggage claim, Cheeseguy was holding both their jackets, and Pinot was on the phone to his hotel about "Well do you have any rooms with TWO beds?". The rest of the call indicated that yes, there were rooms with two beds, but Readers, I Had A Moment.

:)

You know, the one who brought home an inordinate number of animals over the course of my mom's childhood.

Longtime followers might have noticed it's been quiet here lately and that's because I've added several dozen animals to my household. Our beloved Ginger cat Mochi passed away in March from a kidney infection and it was. Emotionally devastating. Since there was a cat-shaped hole in my home, I talked with with several rescue agencies, and drove to Texas on Easter Weekend to collect my beautiful daughter Selene:

Selene is three apples tall, weighs less than a gallon of milk, and sits comfortably at the top of the animal dominance hierarchy. Selene's hobbies are Rodent Destruction Simulator (toys), Reptile Pursuit Simulator (String on a flypole), and wedging herself into crevices. The dogs instinctively fear her, but lately Herschel the Corgi has started to be brave about playing string with her, and she makes a point of greeting Charlie the Yes when he comes in from the yard.

Since Selene is a very energetic baby with a healthy appetite for recreational violence, we did have a bit of a problem with her deciding that the humans were he favorite toys and playing with us a little too hard. On the recommendation of our vet, we got her a Playmate:

Helios (actually answers to Sunny) is approximately 5years old, and has the Size, Sweetness and Intellectual Fortitude of a Honeybaked Ham. He has the proportions of Johnny Bravo and none of his executives are functioning. Sunny's Hobbies are watching TV (His favorite movie is Fantasia 1940, specifically the Toccata and Fugue In D Minor), getting in the way of D&D, and demanding we all go to bed at 9PM.

He's about 5, but had a rough start- his former owners surrendered him when they moved, didn't do a good job box-training him, and declawed his front paws. He is extremely spoiled now, but does have to live with an inexplicably heavily armed teenager who wants to play Violence with him.

Neither of these cats Meows. Selene beeps and trills like some sort of adorable futuristic robot and Sunny very quietly honks and quacks like a very polite goose. I also decided to manifest a dream I've had since I was about 7:

If you've never kept fish before some notes:

Fishkeeping is a TERRIBLE introduction to pet ownership, but a GREAT introduction if you want to learn Ecology, Chemistry, Zoology, Structural Engineering, Botany, Interior Design and Economics all at once

Which perhaps sounds daunting but if you also need something that is intellectually engaging, forces you to learn time management and budgeting skills, and will alleviate your depression by giving you a project that rewards you with actual, literal growth, I cannot recommend a better hobby against The Current Miasma

I am not kidding about the Interior Design and Structural Engineering. 1 gallon of water weighs about 10lbs so the smallest acceptable tanks weigh at least 50lbs when full, usually more, and more than say, an Ikea Bookshelf can reliably bear. The GOOD tanks start at 200lbs and need to be placed where they can be filled and drained for water changes, near an outlet for lights/filtering/heat/air pump, and on a floor that can handle the weight of both the tank and the stand

Prices and product quality control being what they are, you might need to build your own stand so add Carpentry to that list too

Fishkeeping can be ...expensive

It can be a lot less expensive if you casually mention you're interested in the hobby, because half a dozen fishkeepers will pop out of the woodwork and start offering you their old tanks and equipment as well as excess plants and livestock, but this will also make you Beholden To Your Local Fishkeeping Community

which is not necessarily Bad

...but it may mean needing to rapidly set up an emergency tank for a Surprise Betta your friend who does hazardous building cleanup found in the back of an abandoned trap house, for instance

If you do not already have one, you will develop a deep and profound hatred for the pet industry and how they will outright lie to people about fish, especially bettas.

You will also become very emotionally attached to Shrimp

Come join me it's fun I promise :)

Ok this post is already a mile long so read the Alt text for descriptions of my Tank Denizens:

Relatedly, the best place to put a fish tank is the bathroom because the sink is RIGHT THERE for water changes, it's got the water-resistant flooring and outlets, and you're garunteed to be in there a few times a day so you will be checking on the tank.

Also, Premium Ringside Seating! I'm a goddamn Genius.

1. Imagine you’re a powerful wizard

"too many authors in the current market are focusing on selling 'spice' instead of telling interesting stories"

"oh yeah, i agree. i started reading one that i heard a lot about and it just wasn't-"

"and it's all of these women reading their fucking mommy porn out in public like FREAKS"

Trust me

I am aromantic allosexual and if you call me pretty or hot I will get very happy