#bumble be errors

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I think a lot about how my first dog, Jeannie, got really attached to a cat we were trying in the house. So much so that when he went back to my aunt after four days of him running away from her (a shi tzu that was smaller than him) she had to be taken to the vet because she was so sad about losing the best playmate ever that she wouldn’t eat or drink for a week.

I think humans get a little big for their britches when we talk about being oh-so different from other animals. When we talk about how humans have intricate burial rituals and sex for pleasure and all that. About how we have complex emotions and grief and fun.

I think about my little dog, grieving a cat she knew for four days. I think about every painting made by a bird, a dog, a cat. I think about the way fish can be taught tricks. I think about Alex, the African Grey parrot who looked into a mirror and asked what color he was.

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Have I told you guys that in trying to Pavlov my dog, I accidentally created a little fucking monster

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Have I ever talked about how my first doctor tried treating my ADHD when I was 7?

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You know how sometimes when your brain is on idle mode it’ll just sometimes toss a memory at you and force you to deal with that

I was just viscerally reminded of the time my (transmasc) best friend’s (cis) boyfriend asked me, without any irony, which brands of soap could be used INSIDE my best friend’s mancave. [vagina.]

Putting aside the fact that he really just asked me to advise him about my best friend’s snatch -

Listen. Listen. [brings the mic real close]

THERE ARE NO SOAPS THAT ARE SAFE TO GO INSIDE YOUR GODDAMN COOTER.

They don’t exist. Summer’s Eve does not go inside, it goes on the hairy bits. Even douches shouldn’t technically go inside there, because they ruin that delicate microbiome. Don’t put soap in your vagina. It fuckin burns like hell to boot.

Just please do not do that. Do not follow the advice of a cis man about your secret garden, alright. Please.

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Have I mentioned that I figured out that I gave myself an iron deficiency by not eating meat I have to cook in any way. Because I don’t have the energy and also because half the time meat is illegal

Turns out if you’re tired and out of breath and sleep and pain meds don’t fix that you may have spent the last like. Two years? eating just a little less iron than you actually need

Lesson learned, apparently one cannot live on precooked chicken and fish if one doesn’t eat a lot of fucking spinach and tomatoes too.

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I got hard clocked so good at the checkin for my follow up appointment with the pain clinic that I almost couldn’t respond and like! I wanted to respond positively because she was SO sweet about it but I was so caught off guard

She started out by wishing me a happy early birthday, confirmed my info, and ends with such a casual “happy pride month! :)”

I - The only pride flag on my person is a nonbinary keychain on my wallet.

Like granted I’m dressed like a Michigan dad in summer in jorts, a t shirt, and a baseball cap but like BRO, COME ON

I WASNT EVEN WEARING A PRONOUN PIN

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Did I ever tell you guys about my satyr bard named Sorrel

Because tbh they were a BEAST satyrs were MADE to be bards and idk why it’s not one of the suggested races for them. They get proficientcy with the pan flute, they get vicious mockery as an extra cantrip, etc.

Sorrel wasn’t actually meant to be a beast, I was dm’ing and because I was brand new to it I rolled them up to help the party out with context via the bardic knowledge ability. They were my storyteller that guided the party because they wanted to start at level 5 instead of level 1 and wanted to skip the early part of the rise of tihamat campaign.

Anyways I had a co-dm that controlled the PVP sections (I made the maps and placed the minis and everything else) and because I had vicious mockery as a cantrip he asked me if I wanted to just start telling my enemies cursed shit whenever I used it or discordant whispers, the higher level version of the spell.

So Sorrel became not only one of the main damage dealers almost exclusively by telling enemies shit like “you are genetically similar to potatoes” and “your bones are always wet”, they also sort of just canonically wandered along behind the rest of the party occasionally receiving info they regularly tried to disregard like a hyperactive unsocialized Cassandra

Oh and they spent a lot of time helping the cleric look for weed because I homebrewed up a Rastafarian cleric who gets high to commune with the great spaghetti monster for a friend of mine and somehow it did not get less funny as time went on and also he got like. Character development until that player ragequit the game over me deciding that as the DM I was also allowed to have a little fun too