Whatcha Up To?

While there is no definitive collective noun for sloths, the forerunner is a “snuggle” of sloths.

Use this information as you will.

Mother sloth reunites with her baby

Precision.

It’s easy to ignore information I don’t need. Near impossible to manifest information I don’t have.

European recipes make me feel like Walter white

American recipes: [3 page story about how their mamaw used to make this for them during the depression] so you’re gonna smack a stick of butter in there and then put a cup or two of flour until you feel like it’s dry enough. Be generous with the sugar. You’ll know when. Get a healthy amount of molasses and an egg in there and then mix up with your hands until it’s nice and crumbly. If you’re feeling fruity you can add vanilla extract here if you’re tough like they are where I come from cornmeal will do. Add water to taste and texture. If you’ve struck big it can be milk. Put in cast iron skillet blow it a kiss and bake until golden brown. Let cool until you get tired of smacking a bunch of little hands away from having a taste.

European recipe for essentially the same thing: You. Worm. Get out your little scale. You need 147 grams of flour. no more no less. 133 milliliters of fresh milk. 27 grams of white granulated sugar. If an extra granule ends up in the mixing bowl someone from Brussels will be by to administer the proper regulatory fee in 48 hours. Whisk together for 139 seconds exactly and titrate 3ml extrait de vanille into the bowl using an eye dropper before baking at 231 Celsius for 26 minutes. If you deviate from this in any way the food will be inedible and your fine will double. 

There’s a monster in my mind

He comes out from time to time

I'm in the stage of writing where I keep adding lines to skeletons of scenes and filling up the timeline and daydreaming about stuff that could happen, which technically counts as writing so I don't feel guilty for not typing words in a while

It's not for the project I actually want to work on, but that's out of my control, I'm afraid

A man needs a car like a wizard needs a bicycle

The peach cobbler in question

Oh, you don’t know about lobster hell?

Belly full of food

tragedy

You call us fleshies to other balls of light

meal prep is so gross to me i dont want to eat the same thing wvery day and also i dont want to eat anything at all i want to shed my body and live as a floating ball of light that doesnt need to eat or sleep or pay rent

Classist and bourgeois. Here’s what true revolutionaries wear