I actually was cute, once.
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All the unbuffered error messages
I actually was cute, once.
When I was a kid, snow meant sledding, snotty nose, wind-burn, and sometimes a few bruises. Later, it meant walks in the woods with my dogs, who (as dogs do) acted as though it was all some magical special effect I had put on for their amusement.
Usually, I hibernate during the holidays, and use them as an excuse to unplug, not talk to anyone, and pretend that I’m busy.
Last winter, I was planning a group fossil-hunting expedition for this fall. The coronavirus wrecked that plan, along with many others.
I’m going to be 60 in 2022, and I’m already falling apart a bit.
Looks like FTB is going wild! I see a ton of great shameless commerce going on, out there. So I’d like to tease a bit of what else is coming down my auction pipeline.
I don’t write much about trans issues, because of a combination of being ignorant, and not having any personal stake in the issue.
Stop the presses!
Sometime last friday I encountered someone who was expressing a virus that my body did not have immunity to.
The media is always at its best when it’s examining itself in the mirror for flaws.