Lyse McToaster

@birdzilla01.bsky.social

Status report, “Awake Too Early But At Least There’s Something Cool To Watch” dep’t: After sort of a month offline for maintenance, the ISS-borne cameras at https://www.sen.com/live are back up again! Just now picking up lightning flashes from a nighttime storm off Newfoundland. 😃

Watch Earth Live in 4K from Space | Sen

Watch Earth live in 4K from space with Sen's satellite video platform. Stream real-time views from the ISS and beyond, captured by our own orbiting cameras

sen.com

I have never understood and never will understand why interrupting someone while I'm reading to chat (not say something important or informative, just chat) isn't considered rude, but telling the interrupter "I'm reading and don't want to talk right now" is.

People say "a stopped clock is right twice a day", but I care for a church tower clock and I gotta tell you, clocks don't tend to stop, they just start going at weird speeds, so mostly you're gonna be encountering broken clocks that are only right when you don't expect it. That's the real metaphor.

My buddies came over and helped me move heavy fucking furniture, and not only do I appreciate them, I'm so excited to have this piece here. I love this piece so much. From what I can tell, it's 1920s, and it's def solid lol. I adore its feet and its lil detail on the door.

BildBildBild

wible-wobbling SO happily rn between "local slowly-reforming criminal escapes abuser and gets found familied" and "guy with a girlfriend whose parents he helped get together now has to face those parents" and having so much fun. self-indulgence is IN this fall

"When's your birthday, Mr. Balor?" Reina asks him. "I'd be happy to make you something."

Balor freezes with his fork halfway from his plate. For a moment, surrounded by this family's good cheer, he recalls a snatch of song, the voice of a woman whose face he no longer remembers raised in a silly little birthday tune. That fades at once, though, into Wheedle's hands on him, sliding under his shirt as he murmurs into his ear about a *birthday present*. He takes a deep, deep breath and pushes the memory back again. That's not his birthday, anyway, just the one Wheedle had made up and told him to tell the Guild clerk so that he could be signed as an apprentice. If he ever knew the actual date, it's long lost.He has to tell them something, though. The moment is stretching out; he can see Reina's smile starting to fade into uncertainty. Balor deliberately shakes his head, laughs, and tells her, grabbing for inspiration, "It's the tenth of Summer. I was just thinking, I've never seen it done, but if anyone could make a curry cake, I'm sure it would be you."

"Oh! You like curry?" Reina asks, her face clearing again. "You should have said! I haven't made curry for weeks, but I have everything I need for it in the cupboard.""You think I was expecting this? I got home and suddenly she was just-" Varka starts to raise his hands in the air, realizes he's about to sketch out a vague shape that Seamus certainly won't want to see even vaguely, and drops them again. "She was a grown-up, gorgeous, commanding woman. I know she's your kid, but she wasn't going to be a kid forever."

"When you got home," Seamus repeats. "There was no inkling of this before? Not, perhaps, [ten] years ago?"Aw, shit. Of course. Varka has no idea whom Jean might or might not have told about her own youthful crush and his failed attempt to blight it, but he's told one person and one only. Impetuously, without thinking, reeling with surprise and dismay and crashing into the office of the one person he knew he could trust with all his deepest doubts and innermost uncertainties, never registering until the words had already left his mouth that maybe Seamus wasn't the right person to tell that Varka had been propositioned by *his daughter*.

He'd justified it to himself at the time with the thought that, well, a parent ought to know. Now the comfort of that justification shrivels into dust.

so many people who are pro-censorship do not understand that the media they are into would absolutely be banned by the standards they espouse

Captain Clever tore Dr. Dastard's door open. He held a press release. "Is this true?" "Yes. I'm donating my fortune to things governments won't fund, like women's shelters and trans support." "Why?" "People call me a tech billionaire. Feh! I'm a villain, not a villainaire! And stop hugging me!"