foldingfittedsheets

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So my friend @supernovasolace made a joke during DnD about getting caught in an ooze being "jello jail". With their permission I turned it into this funny design that I think will make a great sticker or an even better shirt.

You can find this design on my Redbubble, Teepublic, and Threadless! Sales go to support a small queer creator!

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@rilkes-dragons took out this commission to memorialize a beloved pet and to give as a gift to take away to college. So here's a triptych of a sweet void who was very loved.

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Got Korben's bloodwork back from the vet and it's... concerning. We won't know more until we do xrays and ultrasounds. The monetary worry on top of being afraid that he's got lymphoma is. Not ideal.

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The location of the sex shop I worked was a haven for spiders. We had tall ceilings and skylights and unused storage rooms. It was a spider paradise. We quickly sussed out which coworkers to call on in case of emergency. The Dorito lady was a solid ally for spiders but absolutely petrified of moths.

But there’s actually a hierarchy of fear. Most people don’t realize. The person least afraid is the one forced to deal with the bug in question. If coworker B was scared, but coworker A was petrified, well coworker B was gonna have to screw their courage to the sticking place because by the law of fear they were the most competent person on scene.

Thus enters Rick. Rick first appeared in the back storage room. This room doubled as a second bathroom so we went in on a semi frequent basis. The girl who’d gone in to pee shot out again gibbering with fear about the biggest spider she’d ever seen had just run across her boot.

We sicced Dorito lady on it. She returned, shaking her head. “He was squatting on a power cord where it plugs in. I couldn’t get a clean shot at Rick.”

“Rick?”

She shrugged. “Spiders that big need a name. Seemed like a Rick.”

Rick, freshly named, became a store menace. I’d normally say this was probably a case of multiple spiders being mistaken for one but everyone who encountered him swore up and down there could be no mistake. This spider was massive, fast, and distinct. A gladiator among arachnids.

I never encountered Rick. His exploits grew in the telling but the theme was consistent: no one could kill him. He’d hunker in places that no one could reach and dart away when a strike missed. He also chased off the more faint hearted, charging them in bold dashes. There could be no benign cup transplant to remove Rick from the premise. He was not leaving.

The saga of Rick continued for two months. Not seeing him was almost worse, a fearful wariness when going to the bathroom or stepping into quieter areas. I waited with dread, hoping my eventual run in would have me on shift with Dorito lady to protect me.

It was not to be. There was a girl the same who hated my one moment of singing that was absolute piss-herself scared of spiders. She’d slam straight into a panic attack and couldn’t think or speak. And so it was that one night on shift, I heard her scream.

It was unmistakable. I was in the front window turning off the open sign. Through an obstacle course of mannequins and lingerie I performed an acrobatic sprint out of the window, darting up to find her quivering at the front counter, fully crying. I radiated calm at her and said, “Just point.”

I knew it was Rick. Our destinies were intertwined and we had always been pulled toward the inexorable battle that was drawing nigh.

Her hand raised to point to our sandwich board sign at the front of the store. So Rick had the metaphorical high ground. There was no quick easy strike on the slanted signs surface.

I armed myself and marched into battle, my knuckles white on my chosen weapon. I would do this, because I must. Because there was no one else. And because I wanted to close and go home.

I saw Rick immediately and I honestly don’t think I’ve ever seen a bigger spider since. Outside of a tarantula, he was truly the most massive spider I’ve ever beheld outside a zoo enclosure or terrarium.

We regarded each other. Rick launched off the sign toward me and I stomped my foot reflexively, making him pause in his charge. Then I raised my weapon. Anything else, I believe Rick could have evaded. He’d bested most of the store thus far. But I had chosen chemical warfare.

I doused the shit out of that spider with cleaning spray, stunning him with a barrage of chemicals. While he froze, choking on the unexpected deluge, I dropped a paper towel over him. My foot came down.

I felt his exoskeleton crunch and I can feel it still to this day. The shattering was as of bones and I truly mourned that we had been forced into senseless war. If only he has cleaved tighter to the shadows. If only he’d crawled willing into a cup for relocation. I released a full body shudder of horror, fear, and adrenaline as I stepped back.

I took several quivering breaths. I donned a veneer of calm and tidied the battlefield of it’s corpse then went to reassure my coworker that all was well, while internally I still shook.

You fought well, Rick. I hope you sired many more monstrous children to haunt retail workers in the years to come. Rest in valor, you monster.

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In DnD our DM tends to find fantasy artwork and base characters around it. One of these was a topless fire genasi (?? Probably? There’s a shrieking crow and it’s more like bad CG but like, it’s fine). He used it as the image for a cult leader. She follows a figure called Amernaph.

We started joking around about how she was too hot for clothes and how she was just a tits out kinda gal. Soon this devolved into silliness and I said the phrase, “She’s tits out for Amernaph!”

It became an inside joke that has persisted for years and is now tragically part of my humor but literally no one outside our group would ever get it. I have to edit it out of talking to people.

Today I thought that a post I saw was tits out for Amernaph, but no one can ever appreciate what that means.

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I thought Tumblr would get a kick out of this

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Seventh attempt: Success! Swapped Gale in to cast a dome of Invulnerability and had success the stupid towns folk were running toward me, why do you all have the self preservation of lemmings??

Found another murder house with another clown part. Dribbles is coming together

Found the wizard Lorroakan’s shop and the dick from the druids grove banging down his door

Lied and said I didn’t find the Nightsong kick rocks you prick

Facing the wizard now and oh boy am I probably gonna murder someone he’s using his staff as target practice? And I swear that tiefling downstairs was dead before

Ohhhhhh I gonna murder yooooou bitch thinks he can take Aylin captive? Yeah fucking right

I jumped the poncy wizard and killed him Knocked out his servant cause I’m not a monster

The tiefling came and yelled at me :( I knocked him out but I just wanted to talk…

Exploring the treasure rooms and died once already fuckin wizards

😬 gave Gale the Karsus book but I don’t know if that was the call

He didn’t like when I didn’t agree he should reforge that crown but buddy, you can fit so much hubris in you…

Noodling around in the tower and found the djinn

Used a water elemental to move the lamp cause I don’t trust djinn and it just fucked right off okay bye

Oh there’s a bunch of good shit in there… Karlach get in the lamp

Mommy Mystra wants to talk to Gale about his hubris probably

Couldn’t figure out what the horrible aura around me was— guess I got cursed? I think it was that book Save me Minthara you’re the only one with spell slots left

Halsin came onto me, felt bad turning him down, he was very sweet and earnest

Mizora came onto me, die in a fire, I hope this rejection hurts forever

I went to check out the fireworks factory and was rather… hasty… in exploding the smoke powder on the upper level… ten million guards showed up

Take two, much sneakier, no guard and the child killers are all put down I now have ten million fireworks

I found a house with a secret basement that had a lever I couldn’t get to

I wanted to use Mage Hand (why is mage hand so fucking useless?) but no luck

Then I saw a fishing rod nearby and was like oh! I’ll cast a line and grab the lever! But there’s no way to actually do that

So I ended up accidentally throwing the whole fucking fishing rod but guess what that worked

Found a little snuggling cove as a result but underwhelming reward for the annoyance

Fought some sahaughin

It’s is super unfair that people can blame me for thefts they didn’t see me commit! I dug up a treasure chest, sue me! Good thing I’m good at lying.

Some vampy thralls tried to jump us as bed time (luckily had Astarion in the party thank goodness) and were handily defeated

I found Father Carrion and I guess I’m gonna look for Thrumbo

I’m feeling like thrumbo maybe a victim but also I don’t love undead running around…

FFS plays BG3 previous

Still exploring the city cause damn it’s big

Stumbled upon the crime boss’ lackey who I convinced to let me in

Mol is okay! Not remotely happy to see me! I’m happy to see her though so that’s okay

Fuckin’ freak ladies telling me how they’d all kill me like, fine, step on me danger mommies.

Found nine fingered Keene and am gonna piss her off by getting to the stone lord first, for sure for sure

Wandered the city and found Cazador’s place

Turned around- not ready for that can of worms

Found a locked home that wasn’t naughty to unlock?

Got inside and it’s just Corpse City

Why are there dead spiders here?

Why will none of the corpses talk to me?!

Found a clown foot in the basement. Hey Dribbles.

There’s a Bhaal ambush in the park nearby. Unacceptable. I will save you, citizens

First attempt: dog and a lady dead- unacceptable

Second attempt, got the dog to leave the area: preemptive strike on ambushes, much better until lady dead

Third attempt: man and lady dead immediately

Fourth attempt: fucking hell lady are you impossible to save?

Fifth: lady dead

Sixth: cast sanctuary on the lady, man dead

Okay I have to go to bed, but I am SAVING THEM TOMORROW

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The location of the sex shop I worked was a haven for spiders. We had tall ceilings and skylights and unused storage rooms. It was a spider paradise. We quickly sussed out which coworkers to call on in case of emergency. The Dorito lady was a solid ally for spiders but absolutely petrified of moths.

But there’s actually a hierarchy of fear. Most people don’t realize. The person least afraid is the one forced to deal with the bug in question. If coworker B was scared, but coworker A was petrified, well coworker B was gonna have to screw their courage to the sticking place because by the law of fear they were the most competent person on scene.

Thus enters Rick. Rick first appeared in the back storage room. This room doubled as a second bathroom so we went in on a semi frequent basis. The girl who’d gone in to pee shot out again gibbering with fear about the biggest spider she’d ever seen had just run across her boot.

We sicced Dorito lady on it. She returned, shaking her head. “He was squatting on a power cord where it plugs in. I couldn’t get a clean shot at Rick.”

“Rick?”

She shrugged. “Spiders that big need a name. Seemed like a Rick.”

Rick, freshly named, became a store menace. I’d normally say this was probably a case of multiple spiders being mistaken for one but everyone who encountered him swore up and down there could be no mistake. This spider was massive, fast, and distinct. A gladiator among arachnids.

I never encountered Rick. His exploits grew in the telling but the theme was consistent: no one could kill him. He’d hunker in places that no one could reach and dart away when a strike missed. He also chased off the more faint hearted, charging them in bold dashes. There could be no benign cup transplant to remove Rick from the premise. He was not leaving.

The saga of Rick continued for two months. Not seeing him was almost worse, a fearful wariness when going to the bathroom or stepping into quieter areas. I waited with dread, hoping my eventual run in would have me on shift with Dorito lady to protect me.

It was not to be. There was a girl the same who hated my one moment of singing that was absolute piss-herself scared of spiders. She’d slam straight into a panic attack and couldn’t think or speak. And so it was that one night on shift, I heard her scream.

It was unmistakable. I was in the front window turning off the open sign. Through an obstacle course of mannequins and lingerie I performed an acrobatic sprint out of the window, darting up to find her quivering at the front counter, fully crying. I radiated calm at her and said, “Just point.”

I knew it was Rick. Our destinies were intertwined and we had always been pulled toward the inexorable battle that was drawing nigh.

Her hand raised to point to our sandwich board sign at the front of the store. So Rick had the metaphorical high ground. There was no quick easy strike on the slanted signs surface.

I armed myself and marched into battle, my knuckles white on my chosen weapon. I would do this, because I must. Because there was no one else. And because I wanted to close and go home.

I saw Rick immediately and I honestly don’t think I’ve ever seen a bigger spider since. Outside of a tarantula, he was truly the most massive spider I’ve ever beheld outside a zoo enclosure or terrarium.

We regarded each other. Rick launched off the sign toward me and I stomped my foot reflexively, making him pause in his charge. Then I raised my weapon. Anything else, I believe Rick could have evaded. He’d bested most of the store thus far. But I had chosen chemical warfare.

I doused the shit out of that spider with cleaning spray, stunning him with a barrage of chemicals. While he froze, choking on the unexpected deluge, I dropped a paper towel over him. My foot came down.

I felt his exoskeleton crunch and I can feel it still to this day. The shattering was as of bones and I truly mourned that we had been forced into senseless war. If only he has cleaved tighter to the shadows. If only he’d crawled willing into a cup for relocation. I released a full body shudder of horror, fear, and adrenaline as I stepped back.

I took several quivering breaths. I donned a veneer of calm and tidied the battlefield of it’s corpse then went to reassure my coworker that all was well, while internally I still shook.

You fought well, Rick. I hope you sired many more monstrous children to haunt retail workers in the years to come. Rest in valor, you monster.

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In DnD our DM tends to find fantasy artwork and base characters around it. One of these was a topless fire genasi (?? Probably? There’s a shrieking crow and it’s more like bad CG but like, it’s fine). He used it as the image for a cult leader. She follows a figure called Amernaph.

We started joking around about how she was too hot for clothes and how she was just a tits out kinda gal. Soon this devolved into silliness and I said the phrase, “She’s tits out for Amernaph!”

It became an inside joke that has persisted for years and is now tragically part of my humor but literally no one outside our group would ever get it. I have to edit it out of talking to people.

Today I thought that a post I saw was tits out for Amernaph, but no one can ever appreciate what that means.

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Because my job allocates 5 paid vacation days a year and that’s not actually true because that’s how many you accrue if you work full time and I’m disabled so I get even less PTO planning vacations is challenging.

To facilitate a trip to Minnesota to visit my MIL and our dear friends I had to leverage my usual days off and sick time. Which means I just worked several 11 hour days and only get one day off this week. Tomorrow and Thursday I get to go back to work without actually recuperating all so I can get five consecutive days to spend with people. Fun fact, my PTO bank is in the negative since my wife and I took our honeymoon.

I was so exhausted today I haven’t been able to do anything and I passed out on the couch and took a nap always a bad sign for me.

We’ll see how the next two days go. May they pass gently.

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If you saw the new Nimona movie and loved her like I did then you might like this shark design I made!

She's up here on Teepublic, Threadless, and Redbubble and sales go to support a queer art student!

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Turns out I’ve done irreparable damage to the DnD (dungeons and dragons) tag with my 20K post about dnd (do not disturb)

Had a coworker tell me they hadn’t texted once because of the time. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

I stared at them through the dawning realization that they lived in a world where that was remotely possible. “My phone is on do not disturb if I’m sleeping. Why would I let random texts wake me up? My sleep is important.”

Equally baffled they replied, “What if someone at work needs you?”

“I am not a manager. No one at work will ever need me badly enough to interrupt my sleep. If I’m not working then there’s no reason to be calling me.”

“Not even if you need to cover?”

I laughed, “I don’t need to cover. They could ask me to cover but good luck getting ahold of me if I’m sleeping.”

They looked distressed at this idea.

To console them I added, “I have important people like my mom and my wife set to override. If they call they get through no matter what.”

There was a small pause before they asked, “You can do that…?”

So friendly reminder. Become unreachable. Work does not need you that badly. Sleep.

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I just updated this very sweet little guy, who is very politely waiting for you to toss a pokeball his way.

You can get him on all sorts of cute goodies over on my Threadless!

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Pretty strong consensus. Well done.

Spent my morning commute convincing Buck that you can, in fact, bang yourself.

He had the audacity to say, “It’s not like you can penetrate yourself.”

I stared straight ahead on outrage while my words formulated before I burst out with, “That is such an insane thing to say! Can I penetrate myself? YES! Easily! Do you think a dick is required for penetration? No! You could penetrate yourself! Easily!”

I could see the moment he remembered that fingers exist. Sullenly he muttered, “Not easily.”

“But you could,” I insisted.

“That’s still not banging yourself!”

“It absolutely is if you understand sex is not centered around penetration. Isn’t oral sex banging?”

He fell silent. Considering. “Yes,” he allowed warily.

“So things that result in sexual gratification can maybe all fall under the umbrella of banging? Thus if I felt inclined to slap a dildo on a wall I could bang myself with it.”

This seemed to pain him but he grudgingly said, “That would maybe count.”

“Then anything I did while masturbating could be considered banging myself.”

We went around in circles and he eventually allowed that perhaps one could bang oneself. Then he said, “This isn’t what I imagined we’d talk about at 8am.”

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FFS plays BG3 previous

Still exploring the city cause damn it’s big

Stumbled upon the crime boss’ lackey who I convinced to let me in

Mol is okay! Not remotely happy to see me! I’m happy to see her though so that’s okay

Fuckin’ freak ladies telling me how they’d all kill me like, fine, step on me danger mommies.

Found nine fingered Keene and am gonna piss her off by getting to the stone lord first, for sure for sure

Wandered the city and found Cazador’s place

Turned around- not ready for that can of worms

Found a locked home that wasn’t naughty to unlock?

Got inside and it’s just Corpse City

Why are there dead spiders here?

Why will none of the corpses talk to me?!

Found a clown foot in the basement. Hey Dribbles.

There’s a Bhaal ambush in the park nearby. Unacceptable. I will save you, citizens

First attempt: dog and a lady dead- unacceptable

Second attempt, got the dog to leave the area: preemptive strike on ambushes, much better until lady dead

Third attempt: man and lady dead immediately

Fourth attempt: fucking hell lady are you impossible to save?

Fifth: lady dead

Sixth: cast sanctuary on the lady, man dead

Okay I have to go to bed, but I am SAVING THEM TOMORROW

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fwiw people with sufficiently long and flexible dicks can penetrate their own buttholes, i’ve see vids of it

The point I was trying to make was that “penetration” is not reserved for dicks, so this doesn’t exactly further my argument although it did occur to me as we were having the conversation.

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Spent my morning commute convincing Buck that you can, in fact, bang yourself.

He had the audacity to say, “It’s not like you can penetrate yourself.”

I stared straight ahead on outrage while my words formulated before I burst out with, “That is such an insane thing to say! Can I penetrate myself? YES! Easily! Do you think a dick is required for penetration? No! You could penetrate yourself! Easily!”

I could see the moment he remembered that fingers exist. Sullenly he muttered, “Not easily.”

“But you could,” I insisted.

“That’s still not banging yourself!”

“It absolutely is if you understand sex is not centered around penetration. Isn’t oral sex banging?”

He fell silent. Considering. “Yes,” he allowed warily.

“So things that result in sexual gratification can maybe all fall under the umbrella of banging? Thus if I felt inclined to slap a dildo on a wall I could bang myself with it.”

This seemed to pain him but he grudgingly said, “That would maybe count.”

“Then anything I did while masturbating could be considered banging myself.”

We went around in circles and he eventually allowed that perhaps one could bang oneself. Then he said, “This isn’t what I imagined we’d talk about at 8am.”