Iceberg Artisan (she/her)

How do I square my life’s calling of defending employees from their employers with my deep abiding love for the song “Everybody Ought To Have a Maid”?

If you are ever like “these night meds I have been taking for years probably don’t do anything to make me sleep anymore” go ahead and forget to take your night meds and see how that goes and you’ll find out exactly how artificial your sleep has become and how much you miss it when it is gone.

Black cat behavior.

We have only lived in this house for over five and a half years, a totally normal amount of time to get up the courage to turn on the gas fireplace myself. It is reasonable not to trust invisible, flammable gases and anyone who says otherwise should be treated with intense suspicion.

I really don’t think Pom-Pom is terribly impressed.

My cat just flew through a doorway so erratically that he managed to slam the door behind him. He’s a witch.

My zeal for roasting marshmallows quickly outpaces my desire and ability to consume said marshmallows. I have to be able to channel that feeling into something less sugary.

The internet people who make videos on how to be nice to your teenager during difficult moments should win a group Nobel for contributions to the future of humanity.

I don’t get why saying “I love you even though you aren’t made of wicker” is such a big deal.

Sally wanted in, Pom-Pom wanted out.

I’m beginning to suspect that I am just a very confused and sleepy basset hound puppy.

Hats off to the marketing wing of Atolea. Not only do they tout a solution to a problem no one has (gold jewerlry that “fades”), now the ads say owning their jewelry saves money in the long run because it teaches you to identify quality. I mean come on.

I keep having nightmares where I go back to work and keep forgetting to bill.

You know what quote should be quoted more? When Jessica Walters says “They don’t allow you to have bees in here.” on S1:E22 of Arrested Development.

And finally, we have a poster I found in the back of a very ridiculous book I got years ago called Your Disgusting Head.

It will never cease to be funny that the little boy in Close Encounters is named Barry. Barry is an adult’s name, you fools.

My teenager told me I am one of her top three friends today. If you need me, I’ll have my head in the clouds for the foreseeable future.

10% of posts on NextDoor are complaints about what other people use NextDoor for.

It seems the fancy new automatic cat feeder will allow me to record a sound of my choosing to train the cat to come when that sound is made. The possibilities here are so exciting, I need to do some serious soul-searching about this.

Bored with crescent rolls? Fill them with goat cheese and coat them with honey before baking.

This guy looks really bummed about the skeleton situation.

Made my kid watch Twilight with me and she hated it so much. It was a delightful experience for me.

I’ve never had any chill and I don’t see why I should start now.

Teenagers are applying glitter in my kitchen pre-Pride parade.

The algorithm knows all. It just asked me if I was sad due to being sick (yes) and whether I would like to do psychedelics about it (also yes).

It appears to be one of those days.

Honey lemon yogurt pound cake.

Giant squid only need 45 kcal a day to survive. Also has Josh Hartnett ever had a good haircut?

Does anyone know how to relieve the specific pain that comes in a scar that is both in your skin and scalp and is also in your skull and it is about to rain? Because this sucks. Halp.

Important update to this #caturday nap position