Lili Saintcrow @lilithsaintcrow@raggedfeathers.com

LOOK WHAT MY DAUGHTER BROUGHT HOME FOR ME.

I am on my last nerve and a lot of coffee this morning, so fair warning: Don’t fucking test me on this one.

(This warning brought to you by Not All Men But Definitely That Fucking Guy.)

The post-sluice romp has begun. House reeks of even more wet dog. Towels are everywhere.

Which reminds me of my very favorite LJ icon ever.

In which I talk about my best books, being disposable, and how maybe it isn’t all hopeless bullshit.

I mean, just LOOK at this fuzzy, wonderful jerk.

Also, I’ve a story in this new anthology!

Someone loves me. I don’t have a Keurig machine, but I’ll make do.

Okay, Dracula.

It’s barely eleven and already I need another jolt.

Who’s enjoying a well-earned chew after a hard run and obedience training?

This guy.

Hard-earned wisdom.

I like the broad nib. Nice and flowing.

Broad nib and RED ink. Mwahahahahahaha.

AWWWWWW YEAH, BAYBEE. Come to Mama, you lovely writing instrument, you.

AWWWWW YEAH. MY WEEKEND IS SORTED.

Cannot stay in bed, since a 60lb furry toddler sat on my chest and asked where breakfast is, while also noting I am made of meat.

...thanks, astrology app, for giving me even MORE publishing-based neurosis. Thanks ever so much.

Friday the 13th, full moon, and a perfect storm of mansplainers.

*sigh* Tonight's gonna be grand.