Down to 2 HP, 0 WP, was being attacked like hell. No Shrouded, had to roll Party against an 18. Glorious 6-6-6!

*headbanging*

Thank you for the blessings upon my car, garage cat!

If you see this, post your lock screen.

This pleases me so much. Wilde and Beardsley and grotesquely decadent (decadently grotesque?) art greeting my face every time I open my phone.

Not even a little bit of a joke. That's how I dress at the office.

Thank you, sweet boy, for saving my life and for the absolutely incredible journey. We love you.

27/09/2007 - 18/03/2025

(5/5)

Algernon, we'd ask, how did you get so damn old? Alas, he never divulged his secret.

Algernon, every time we stir the food, we'll think of you. And we will forever sing your praises, because every song is about you.

(4/?)

Our little daby, that dog ol' baby, the puppuccino. Such opinions, such rituals, such spots, such head knuckles, such eyebrows. There has never been a dog more expressive. He was our castle freak.

We were beyond blessed and lucky to have him, and to have had him for so bloody long.

(3/?)

to lick and chew and crunch, to drink in perfect rhythm, to be the fanciest lad to ever trot and prance, to reign eternal as King of Shit Mountain.

Algernon filled our home with such absurdity, even if he did want us to keep our mirth in check. He-no the puppino, puppinest of dogs.

(2/?)

Hail Algernon! Son of Chili, Tabasco named. Familiar, comfort, and companion. None were his equal, in spirit or age or stink, so long lived was he. He has crossed into the next life, greeted by Saint and Trevor, to be forever free of pain and discomfort, to shout into the cold...

(1/?)

The only tweet ever worth a damn. Happy anniversary!

The old man's head is blissfully empty inside, but the top of Head Knuckle Mountain is like a field of stars. 17 years, 4 months tomorrow.

It's Thursday the 23rd, have some young Vincent Price. Just because.

I'm reminded again today of the Frisky Sour. A long standing joke, though I've yet to make one.