mythopoeics

I saw a man the other day, wearing a leather jacket with an eagle painted on the back of it. I followed him for hours, flicking spitballs at his back to make that stupid bird look silly. He either never felt a thing, or was being deliberately obtuse.

Moral of the story, I hate eagles.

Also, this is my new favorite flowchart.

[It had been a couple of days since he had met Hermes. The pigeon comment shouldn't have weighed on his mind but it did. He was reminded of the little bastard that had come into his home, shat all over the place and then had escaped through the most clever of ways. It would have been more impressive if Thanatos had not wanted to murder the damn bird. It had been someone, he knew that much.

Most recently, his favourite nephew brought up Hermes. The thief, the swift messenger of the gods. Silver-tongued and manipulative. Why if he didn't know any better...

And then it all finally sank in.]

Hermes, you motherfucking, cocksucking whoreson.

It's Friday. In and of itself that is a blessing. My paycheck has been deposited into my account and while I do not need that to go shopping with, it's the idea of the thing that makes shopping today so much better. I feel the need for new shoes for tonight. I think that would be best.

Nightshade will have it's usual Friday Night specials this week, two for ones and so forth. We have a new techno DJ to break in, loves, so do try to come by and give him a warm welcome. I dare say he best live up to his potential

I feel the need to wander tonight, too. The spring that is upon the cusp makes for a rather lovely evening, don't you think?

The place where you rest your hands on your desk is home to 10 million bacteria at any given time. Well, not anymore. Seven million of them just moved to your hand. Congratulations.

I'm sufficiently bored. If you couldn't tell alone by the fact that I'm here again.