Tonight I met up with some coworkers at an Irish pub.
About four drinks in, they remembered I’d gone to an anime convention and asked if I was a furry.
Except they didn’t say furry. They said Furby.
I’m now regretting not having fun with that question.
This closet cosplay has a very high likelihood of turning into a case of “not sure if femme!Spy or member of the Crazy 88.”
I’m kind of tempted to bring a pen and a notebook and keep track of how many people ask for each. You know. For science.
Somebody left an NCIS rerun on in the background, and I heard the words “I work with a bunch of wankers” just as Sniper showed up on my dash.
It was like hairy Australian serendipity.
Happy St. Patrick’s Day!
I wanted to be festive, and dyed my alcoholic beverage green, but now it’s the same shade of a green as a shamrock shake, and every time I sip it I’m subconsciously expecting it to be mint, but it’s not mint. It’s not mint at all.
This was a terrible idea.
I am a woman of simple pleasures.
I made cinnamon buns and Night of the Living Dead is on TV.
This is the best night.
I had another one of those “too much Tumblr before bed” dreams.
This time I was god-tier!John, and I had to team up with Jade to rescue Castiel after Pitch kidnapped him and locked him away in a haunted house. There may have been imminent marriage plans.
Eventually we found Castiel (who was a cat for some reason) and made a break for it, at which point I suddenly remembered that I had wind-powers, and was striking dramatic poses all “it’s cool, I’ve got this,” but I couldn’t use my wind-powers without knocking myself flat on my ass.
Jade just held Cat-stiel and stood there, looking disappointed.
Has anyone else been watching Animaniacs reruns and just sitting there going, “Oh my god…I GET it now!”?
Happy New Year!
I had a number of drunk customers today, including one very tall beer-scented man who asked me very politely where “the store with the big squishy chairs and things” was, and couldn’t imagine how he’d manage to miss it when he was standing right outside of it.
My favorite, though, was a very bedraggled, glassy-eyed young lady who staggered in around three in the afternoon wearing a cardboard Happy New Year party tiara, wandered by a mirror, stopped, stared at her reflection, and then very slowly pulled off the tiara and stared at it like she’d never seen it before.
So I was out windowshopping with a friend when we came across this thing of beauty.
Then my friend told me to imagine it with a blond pompadour, and it just made it better.
Guess who just got back from the early screening of Les Mis.