Isis being informed that Osiris’ penis had been taken.
Isis being informed that Osiris’ penis had been taken.
My friend, do yourself a favor and invest in a proper grinder. You can find pocket grinders with a kief catch for like $15. That catch will be your friend during the hard times. Let it build until you need it, and never clean that shit unless it is into your apparatus of choice.
ETA: Clean the grinder teeth, not the catch. Just knock it into the catch with a toothbrush before you do. Sometimes you can scrape some extra goodness up, but it sucks using a gummed grinder. Should be able to grind in one smooth motion, not too much resistance.
Certain beans, too, for me. Mainly the really meaty ones. I like the taste, but once I bite in and that texture hits my tongue, I can’t do it. I have tried so many times.
What’s really weird to me is that I don’t hate bean paste. Like, you offer me a snack with red bean paste? I’m all over it. Not even a second thought.
And this is how “Scroll of Instant Kaiju” began.
Hey, good on ya! Getting started can be the hardest part! Don’t worry about it feeling slow, or feeling like you’re not getting far. There’s days where words will flow like water, others where the well feels dry. What matters is that you keep working at it, keep encouraging yourself to go forward.
Don’t be too hard on yourself. It’s easy, especially with personal projects, to let the negativity build up, but we need to be willing to give ourselves a break from it, especially when it’s a skill we might not exercise often!
“Does not get mashed on fermented berries”.
I’ll have you know that when I was lost and low on fuel, I managed to land on an absolute shit hole of a backwater, barely a sentient being in sight, but those berries?
They got me home. Always fly X-Wing. Runs on anything.
Did you use a particular finish on the amaranth, or are you going to let it naturally shift?
It’s all absolutely gorgeous, by the way!
This is why you should support your local squirrel population.
Little buddies have been waging a war against this for a long time for us. We need to give back.
A reference to Ordinary Sausage, a YouTuber who makes different sausages, frequently from non-standard ingredients.
Ballistic corkscrew penis.
0 to full in .5 seconds.
Well, now I want to see what happens when the Trues go even further beyond.
I know this is just a “grass is always greener” because I am horridly burned out at my current gig and it’s only getting worse, but damn, I’m really sitting here on my lunch break going “Yeah, gathering fish jizz sounds a whole lot better than going back into this hellhole”.
On the other hand, you probably need some marine life education to become the cuddlefish jizzmopper that I certainly lack.
But I don’t know that I have the intestinal fortitude to handle Surströmming.
Or creative enough to keep coming up with sausage puns for songs.
Hey, if you can’t tell a duck from a goose, peace was never an option.
Both. He doesn’t find her attractive, but he needs to be extra to get the point across without Mrs. True getting involved and potentially using Everett as a blunt object against the offending woman.
Man’s kept in place by a mix of love and acknowledging he’s found the only person who can take him down.
Remember, dying alone is suicide.
Taking your teammates out with you is collateral.
Because sometimes you just have to find out.
Yeah, sadly, it seems no matter how ample the parking, people will still just take a pump.
I kinda get it, but at this point, we should all know better. Leave one person behind to pump and park, you’re going to be in the building for awhile just trying to get snacks and get checked out. I’ve never seen our local less than packed inside.
Let’s take inspiration from the glory days of piracy and Boondock Saints. Strap guns across every square inch of your body you can, and then line the trenchcoat.
Not with Trek, but I’m a former stagehand and I’ve done amateur stagework. Spent a lotta time building and maintaining sets and props. I’ve been there.
You’re backstage, you’ve got how everything should look memorized, it’s all set up, and for a moment, while it’s just you and that dry run, you forget yourself. You’re a part of the show.
Eventually you step back, remember it’s all fake. You notice the little flaws, notice the floor isn’t just right under your feet. You were tired, trying to get something done. A lapse.
I genuinely believe in the magic of the stage. Not in the sense of a spell, but of the ritual. No matter if it’s on a screen, or in person, if you do it right, we let go. For a moment, we forget our world and step into another.