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[dumbassonmars]

[dumbassonmars]

So this is what would happen if I could click kudos more than once

[dumbassonmars]

34 April Fools Memes And Pranks Roasting Our Most Annoying “Holiday”

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[dumbassonmars]

DO YOU KNOW WHAT I JUST REALIZED

YOU KNOW THE HAIKU BOT???

OFC YOU DO

YOU KNOW THAT MESSAGE HE PUTS AT THE END OF EVERY POST????

"Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up."

YEAH???????

WELL THATS A HAIKU TOO

Beep boop! I look for

accidental haiku posts.

Sometimes I mess up.

NOW YOU LOOK ME IN THE EYE AND TELL ME THATS NOT THE CUTEST THNIG YOUVE EVER HEARD

[dumbassonmars]

[dumbassonmars]

So, about Great Aunt Liz's Rumball Recipe... d'you think vodka would work? See, I have some of that, flavored caramel, that isn't going to get drunk (drank?) very quickly due to the caramel flavor, and honestly caramel vodkaballs sound pretty darn good... Also, I'm fairly certain that 50+ year old family recipes are purposefully vague like this because they're FAMILY recipes, so the new wives would have to spend time learning them with the matriarchs, to ensure family secrets stay in the family.

I’m deathly allergic to alcohol and know nothing, but people have been taking about bourbon balls so I guess so?  

As far as lack of measurements go- that’s the case on my uncle-in-law’s family, who are Sicilian and guard the recipes under eight layers of matriarchy but in my mother’s family it’s because THEY NEVER FUCKING MEASURE ANYTHING IN UNITS NORMAL HUMANS USE.

Really you read GGG’s recipes and they’re measured in things like “Fill the Red Pot with water to the second dent” or “put the dough on top of the fridge and let rise until you can see it again” or “Handful of salt vs Tom’s Hand full of salt”.  Great-aunt Liz’s are usually worse- The rumballs contain suggested measurements at least, most of hers just have a list of ingredients and “Oven, until done”

There is a method to the madness, at least- Mom spent an exciting three months before college transcribing probable measurements before leaving for college, and discovered that “Handful” Is about a tablespoon, and “second dent” about a quart and so on.  There is something delightfully matrilennial about “trying to make beef stew by guessing how big my great-great-grandmother’s hands were.”

[dumbassonmars]

Mom Deals With Local Traffic

When I was a wee thing, my parents moved out the the Highly dubious condo in East Palo Alto and into a relatively nice suburban neighborhood, into a house immediately across the street from my new elementary school.  Immediate, as in, less than 40 feet from the traffic circle.   Mom would wave at me from the driveway sometimes while I was in class.  This should have made getting me to and from school easy, but there was an issue:

I still had to cross the street, and because I was living in the over-caffeinated heart of silicon valley at the time, that meant dodging the local commuters barreling through the school zone at upwards of 40 miles per hour with no regard for the stop signs.

The flashing “School Zone” signs were ignored.   The city refused to put in speed bumps or devote extra patrol cars. One of my classmates grandmother’s volunteered as crossing guard, and some jackass in a BMW ran over her foot on the first day. Now, mom declared as we drove Mrs. Manchez to the hospital her foot in a beer cooler full of ice, Would be a good time to take the law into my own hands.

So after dropping Mrs. Manchez off at the hospital, we drove to the thrift store, where my mom found a navy blazer, aviator sunglasses, a pilot’s cap and an old, clunky-looking hair dryer.  

The next morning, mom went out to the sidewalk in her new “uniform”, with the hair dryer and a legal pad so she could write down the grocery list.  Every time a car would come roaring down the road, Mom would look up, point the hairdryer at them, and, and write something down.  

I remember listening to brakes squeal all day the first time she tried it, Mercedes and BMWs screeching to a crawl as they passed the school, glaring at her.   By that afternoon, cars were creeping along at an over-cautious 10mph, and I was able to get home without taking my life into my hands.

After that, Mom went out “in uniform” every couple of days, because intermittent re-enforcement is what REALLY gets a change in behavior going, and point the hair dryer at anyone speeding through the school zone, usually while writing down grocery lists or short stories, or drawing unflattering caricatures of the other PTA moms. Eventually, however, one of the cars that came through was a patrol car, and he slowly pulled to a halt in front of mom, glaring at her though his own reflective glasses. She smiled an waved the hair dryer.  “Good afternoon!” “…What’re you doing?”  he groaned, 3 in the afternoon entirely too early for this shit.

“Writin’ a grocery list.”  She beamed, and when that failed to satisfy him, she explained about the speeding problem and that if they couldn’t send a partol car out here to ticket people regularly, she figured that a hair dryer would be the next best thing.  Working like a charm so far.  They didn’t even notice the little airplanes on the Pilot’s hat.

The officer stared at her for a moment longer before his face broke out into a slow grin.  “Y’know, when we’re out of a car, we usually wear visibility vests.  So more people see you and your… Phaser.” And that’s the story of how Mom and Officer Brown met and started the neighborhood watch program.

[dumbassonmars]

It's that time of year again: Bread Jesus Masterpost

So A While Ago I wrote a Post:

The 1969 Easter Mass Incident (AKA "Bread Jesus")

...And it sort of launched my online career as a teller of strange and amusing tales.

The following year, I attempted to make my own Bread Jesus (With uh, Mixed Results)

And then it became a tradition, so I made another (much better) one.

And in a few minutes, I will be attempting to make another one.

This is how I make my living now, so if you want to my Ko-fi, Pre-order the Family Lore book of this tale and many more on Patreon (yes, it's still on and I will be shipping internationally), or donate to cover the costs of the Major Sewage Problem I had last month, I would extremely appreciate it.

This year I will be doing a Live Reading of the story at 7PM Mountain Daylight Time On this Discord Channel if you want to come listen or, like many comments have said, want to hear someone else read it because they stop from laughing about halfway through.

Thank you all for all your support over the years and I hope you have a Happy Easter.

[dumbassonmars]

Far better to be thought rude and capable than rude and incapable

- Arya, from Eldest, by Christopher Paolini

[dumbassonmars]

They'll never get Katrina. Never, even if I must skin the lot of them, or fight a thousand Urgals and the king to boot. I'd tear the sky itself down and let the Empire drown in its own blood before she suffers so much as a scratch.

-Sloan, from Eldest, by Christopher Paolini

[dumbassonmars]

A man can endure only so much abuse before he must strike back.

- Horst, from Eldest, by Christopher Paolini

[dumbassonmars]

... So farewell, best of luck, avoid roasted cabbage, don't eat ear wax, and look on the bright side of life!

- Angela, from Eldest, by Christopher Paolini

[dumbassonmars]

Pictured: Gale rolling a nat 1 on his insight check

[dumbassonmars]

The strength economy is in shambles.

100% Karlach just thinks a deathmatch is a fun friendly time