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I despise scheduling appointments with my HMO, I really do. Unless it's your regular doc, then can never see you when and where you want them. I'm not hauling out to Largo... *grumble grumble bitch whine moan*

Why do I get the feeling I'm the only adult in the house sometimes? Da's in New York, and Mum and the brat had a fight so it was only because I was on their asses that we had dinner tonight. Plus, I had to cook, and wash the pots I needed. Dude, this is why I don't want children. And on top of this, Mum's probably killed my chances to hang out with starkravingsane and go clubbing after work on Saturday. Apparently, Mummy Dearest doesn't think going clubbing with a friend is "having a social life". Can't fucking win.

On the up side, my arms are finally resigned to being part of my body again. The rest of my body is very happy with thie development.

"Danse Macabre" is 3/5 done. I really should be able to get it done, even if I do need almost 24 hours break between completing sections. I don't write horror easily. (But coming up with bloody demonic murders is fun.)

And now, link dump:

A while ago, copperbadge went on a trip to the Graceland Cemetary in Chicago, and then he wrote about it here. Very powerful post, but a bit image-heavy.

The complete Wired 6 word stories. Really worth the 15 minutes it takes to read them all.

Two funnies from Overheard in New York:

So wrong on so many levels:
White boy #1: I only like to watch girl-on-girl.
White boy #2: What? You don't like dick in your porn? That's fucking gay.


This cracked me up:
Hipster #1: What's up with her? Is she a Lesbian?
Hipster #2: Well, she is Canadian.

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