189 days = 27 weeks=4,536 hours
Not sure what else I would have done with that time.
Maybe it’s better not to question.
Burn it up, baby girl:
Yup, all the crazy.
None of them are speaking to me. Not the shaman. The Mage. Not even the priest who is still annoyed she can’t be all three things: shadow, discipline, and holy. (Not my fault!) I have demanded too much, been chasing too many rabbits and wasting hours wishing to ride dragons.
But. There was hope in a box. (There always is, isn’t there?)
The box arrived yesterday, safe and sound. It cost a fortune to air ship it, probably triple what the contents cost, so that tells you it’s not the the money, it’s about friendship.
This is a picture of how I ripped into the cookies like a crazed wallaby after a three-day hunger strike:
One cookie did drop on the floor, and I used the 3-second rule to save it from an ignominious ending.
So not only were there Arnott’s Chocolate Ripple cookies (pro-tip: put strawberry ice-cream on them and make mini ice cream sandwiches OMGOMGOMGOOMG I am a genius), but Tim Tam cookies as well. They were judged “a bit too strong” for CD Rogue’s palette, but I told him to get his fat paws OFF MY COOKIES. No, I just said, “Oh, well these are flavors you’re just not used to,” and quietly slid the rest away from him. The box included a pouch with the label “Possum Pals” on the outside and filled with some mysterious shavings, which may be Eucalyptus bark, which I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to throw over a bonfire on Midsummer’s Night, dancing naked in the backyard while chanting a dream-time song, while CD Rogue plays the didjeridoo. Hilarity ensues.
Hey, there are some pretty evil spirits floating around now, and I’ll try anything.
Maybe I’ll just stick with strawberry ice cream and the Ripples.
If I wrote down the details of a few pivotal events that have occurred since Friday, you wouldn’t believe there could be a character as I would describe. That a real person exists who does the things she does. I feel like I’m dealing with Petyr Baelish and he’s given me a necklace. Tome has a funny post all about retail therapy, and it made me think, what is missing from my life? Time to write. I really need to exercise my flying monkeys and aim at some not-so-innocent chicas who stole my damn red shoes.
In the meantime, I am not digging the selfies.
Remember how I kind of skipped over a few days? Kind of cheated? Well now I’m making up for it.
Cineza the Fire Mage is coming into her own: since they weakened warlocks so much Kellda is barely recognizable (I can’t get past Silver Proving Grounds with her. Can’t. Tried umpteen strategies and all the mojo I can muster. She’s weak.). Cinema, however, something changed, and she is so much fun to play again. Maybe it’s the moving and casting, which I so miss from Kellda, maybe it’s all the secret, invisible force fields of power, maybe it’s that her procs are a’proccin and she takes advantage of every pyroblast.
But yesterday, she wasn’t quite Level 96. I want you to look at this image and tell me all that’s wrong:
Now, will I go back, walk the tightrope again for the bits of tiny treasure in the box? Blinks don’t go backwards, but she does have her time spell, so maybe. We’ll see. She’s level 96 now.
And cool -she’ll go get that Spooky Scythe to transmog:
And then sometimes I just hate Trade, but at least I know what the trolls are up to.
I repeat: I can’t even
I wanted to make today’s really funny, the spontaneous kind of funny where everyone would just crack up in a big smile, and family members and friend would wonder why readers were laughing maniacally at their computer screens. But it just didn’t happen. The funny didn’t come. And while picking flowers (along with mining are two things Haanta the Huntress hates), this little pollen monster attacked, and Haanta noticed his death face was so full of shock, so aghast at his untimely demise, she simply had to make note of it:He just seems so surprised to be dead, like he’s about to say something in protest but that mortal coil, or chlorophyll, didn’t even have time to say goodbye.
Now ya’ll are probably wondering what the OLRG is up to. I figured out how to get Mumble to work with my good buddies Jen and Cymre. They hopped on my server, and then it took Cub to push one more button so they could hear me, and then good to go.
OLRG is in hiatus, but I need you. Still things I can’t do things by myself, and furthermore, don’t want to do by myself. Simple as that.
Oh, and I’m reading this right now:
(and time to dust off Lupe, once again: Stamina > Bonus Armor > Armor > Versatility >= Mastery = Haste >= Strength > Crit >= Multistrike)
I got nothing. Really.
Momokawa talks to the gnome every day to see what new gadgets he has. He usually has nothing new. (I never would have guessed that earthy-grungy-crunchy earth mother Momo would be such a gear head.) Well, she does enjoy blowing stuff up just like the rest of us. Maybe the gnome is just as confused as we are, and that’s why he keeps making the same old stuff. Oh well. Smoked chicken, anyone?
You know, any time we complain about the sexual and egregious tropes we find ourselves immersed in, I want to remind you that there are works such as this one.
Had lots to say, lots to think about, but then, this:
I am maxed out right now, so “relaxing” in Azeroth this morning meant taking my beautiful hunter Haanta out into the wilds, with the strict order to make Momo gloves.
And she made this by mistake.
And then I equipped it, by mistake.
And now back to the drawing board.
Not a big deal you say? No. But it is a straw, and I’m a camel’s back.
I’m going back to bed.