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breeden
ursulav

(no subject)

Awright...travel plans made, flyin' out Wednesday.

I have so much to get done before then, I shouldn't even be taking time to write this. But hey! Into every life, a little lunacy must fall...at least I got my studio packed up this weekend.

Once more into the breach...!

breeden
ursulav

(no subject)

Awright…travel plans made, flyin’ out Wednesday.

I have so much to get done before then, I shouldn’t even be taking time to write this. But hey! Into every life, a little lunacy must fall…at least I got my studio packed up this weekend.

Once more into the breach…!

Originally published at Tea with the Squash God. You can comment here or there.


breeden
ursulav

(no subject)

I should be working. Actually, I am working. However, I must interrupt my work to present the following appalling truth to the world.

Bottlecaps. I love 'em. I drink enough Coke to singlehandedly keep a third-world country oppressed, and some of my favorite candies are gummi cola and Bottlecaps, because they pander to this Cokelust of mine.

The problem is that the cola (or maybe root beer) flavored Bottlecaps are rare. I would open a pack, and start munching through them, and I'd frequently go through two or three mediocre grape or orange, and pick past far too many of the thoroughly disgusting cherry to get to the delicious brown cola ones.

Being a trusting and not overly paranoid soul, I always assumed that there were an even number of all the flavors, and that I was merely projecting the lack of brown Bottlecaps because those were the ones I wanted. There weren't more cherry, it just seemed that way because even one is too many.

Today, however, James suggested I simply dump the pack into a bowl, pick out the brown ones, and HE would eat the less desireable flavors. So I did. And that was when I uncovered the horrible truth.

Brown -- 4
Orange -- 5
Grape -- 7
Cherry -- 10

My god! There really ARE less brown ones! They've stuffed the tube with the noxious red death and withheld the desireable brown! I'm not crazy!

The world must be told.

breeden
ursulav

(no subject)

I should be working. Actually, I am working. However, I must interrupt my work to present the following appalling truth to the world.

Bottlecaps. I love ‘em. I drink enough Coke to singlehandedly keep a third-world country oppressed, and some of my favorite candies are gummi cola and Bottlecaps, because they pander to this Cokelust of mine.

The problem is that the cola (or maybe root beer) flavored Bottlecaps are rare. I would open a pack, and start munching through them, and I’d frequently go through two or three mediocre grape or orange, and pick past far too many of the thoroughly disgusting cherry to get to the delicious brown cola ones.

Being a trusting and not overly paranoid soul, I always assumed that there were an even number of all the flavors, and that I was merely projecting the lack of brown Bottlecaps because those were the ones I wanted. There weren’t more cherry, it just seemed that way because even one is too many.

Today, however, James suggested I simply dump the pack into a bowl, pick out the brown ones, and HE would eat the less desireable flavors. So I did. And that was when I uncovered the horrible truth.

Brown — 4
Orange — 5
Grape — 7
Cherry — 10

My god! There really ARE less brown ones! They’ve stuffed the tube with the noxious red death and withheld the desireable brown! I’m not crazy!

The world must be told.

Originally published at Tea with the Squash God. You can comment here or there.


breeden
ursulav

(no subject)

And it occurs to Ursula, suddenly, that it is almost time for the annual pilgrimage to the Altar of Probably-Futile-But-I'm-Trying-Anyway-Goddamnit.

I speak, of course, of submitting work to the Spectrum annual, which I better do tomorrow, since if I wait until after the trip, I'll be so busy I'm likely to forget.

I've submitted faithfully every year for about four years, and received rejection slips every time. Initially, they were definitely earned. More recently...well, I'd like to think they were close, and some of 'em have held up well, but I suspect that in a few years, I'll look back and go "Man, those were stinkers too!" Still, I keep submitting--it's one of my big artistic goals. (Not that I expect fame, fortune, and success to attend acceptance, I just wanna do it because--well--it'd be cool, damnit!) Although many of the contributors to Spectrum kick my ass up, down, sideways, and extradimensionally to boot, I know I'm better than some of the stuff that gets in, so I keep trying.

This year, I'm submitting "Sir Bunny vs. the Wockwurm" and "Bad Egg," which garnered the most comments/praise/etc this year, and which James (whose vote equals that of the combined internet) agreed were the best of the bunch.

Fifth time's the charm...

breeden
ursulav

(no subject)

And it occurs to Ursula, suddenly, that it is almost time for the annual pilgrimage to the Altar of Probably-Futile-But-I’m-Trying-Anyway-Goddamnit.

I speak, of course, of submitting work to the Spectrum annual, which I better do tomorrow, since if I wait until after the trip, I’ll be so busy I’m likely to forget.

I’ve submitted faithfully every year for about four years, and received rejection slips every time. Initially, they were definitely earned. More recently…well, I’d like to think they were close, and some of ‘em have held up well, but I suspect that in a few years, I’ll look back and go “Man, those were stinkers too!” Still, I keep submitting–it’s one of my big artistic goals. (Not that I expect fame, fortune, and success to attend acceptance, I just wanna do it because–well–it’d be cool, damnit!) Although many of the contributors to Spectrum kick my ass up, down, sideways, and extradimensionally to boot, I know I’m better than some of the stuff that gets in, so I keep trying.

This year, I’m submitting “Sir Bunny vs. the Wockwurm” and “Bad Egg,” which garnered the most comments/praise/etc this year, and which James (whose vote equals that of the combined internet) agreed were the best of the bunch.

Fifth time’s the charm…

Originally published at Tea with the Squash God. You can comment here or there.