I woke up today and the first thing I wanted to do was work out, after I did my normal "beauty" routine. I'm here on Livejournal instead.  

Do you know I actually remember when Livejournal was invite only. I got lucky and was invited by someone I knew by the internet. She's gone now. Just about everyone I knew from those days is gone now.

But I remain. Feels kind of weird.


Akashik Merchandise

Originally published at A Talemaker's Confession. You can comment here or there.

I’d rather be making comic pages than merchandise on most days, but I wanted a t-shirt. So I took the cover art for chapter 1 and designed one. Then I put it up for sale on the internet for people to ignore.

I can’t wait to get one. Of course I have to get the funds first, but it’s going to be glorious.

See? See my awesome t-shirt design?

Which you can find in the shop: – along with other things. But more to the point: bask in it’s glory!


A Southern Memory

Originally published at A Talemaker's Confession. You can comment here or there.

Once upon a time I was having a shindig and was cooking special stuff so dinner wasn’t right away. There was this person over who had no self control with food. She decided she couldn’t wait and, I kid you not, stuck her fingers in the food to steal some.

So I smacked her with my wooden spoon.

This my friends is a perfectly normal Southern response. In fact, it was quite instinctive.

It worked. She suddenly had self control.

But she also ranted to her friend that what I’d done was abusive.

No, honey. Your momma never smacking you with a wooden spoon so that you end up with no self control in someone else’s kitchen. THAT was abuse. Also. You’re a grown damn woman. If you’d tried to claim assault that would have made better sense, but I have to tell you assault is an action a lot more serious than a single smack on your nasty hand with a wooden spoon.

This morning I remembered those people last year who faced serious criminal charges for doing similarly nasty shit. Because that kind of behavior is a health risk to others.

Moral of the story: don’t be afraid to smack your rude ass guest with a wooden spoon.