Oh my stars and garters wtf is all this. Are ya'll really that upset over...a cartoon about colorful ponies?

On another note, HOLY CRAP THE BOOK OF MORMON IS THE FUCKING BEST MUSICAL I'VE EVER SEEN IN MY LIFE. LET'S WANK ABOUT THAT INSTEAD. Seriously. It was offensive, and obscene, and horrific, and yet...oddly sweet.

Dear Skittles, (aka DuckyDog, aka Brown Dog, aka Skiddels)

We already miss you so, so much. There's a big hole in the heart of our family that you left when you died, and some of us don't quite understand that you're not coming back, and look for you every time we come in from outside. Hell, even I walk in and am for a minute startled when I don't see you flopping around on the floor, all excited to see me. Chloe is a love, but she doesn't put her head in my lap and just look up at me the way you did.
The neighborhood is really sad that you're gone- every time I stop to say hello to someone they say, "Oh, is Skittles relaxing at home?" and I have to see their faces fall when I explain that you've passed on. You meant so much, not just to us but to everyone who met you. You weren't just our family dog, or Vicki's dog, or my first dog, you were like this sweet, giving presence that lent happiness and silliness to everyone in the area and brought neighbors together. Sounds cheesy, but it's true- I wouldn't have spent all summer letting Chloe play in Kelly's field if you and Boomer hadn't been friends first, or playing in Melody's pool if you hadn't invited yourself into their house the first day they moved in.
I got impatient with you a lot, and I feel bad for that. When you pooped on the sidewalk or lay down and refused to move or wouldn't let me brush you or walked too slowly, I had less-than-kind thoughts, and I'm so so sorry. I wish I'd been more patient and more willing to move at your pace. I'm so sorry that Chloe and I ran ahead of you and left you limping after us, barking. That was mean. I'm sorry I took Chloe on walks through the woods and left yu behind because you were too slow- that was mean, too. If I'd realized what I had before you were gone, I would have spent every day making sure you knew how special you were.
You were a special, special dog, and I don't think that any other dog could possibly measure up to who you were. Thanks for stickin' around for fifteen years, and I just know you're someplace where you can run again at full speed, and no one ever tries to brush you, and your coat is always flowing, and no one ever throws you in a pool and it's always snowing, but it never gets so deep that you have trouble walking through it and every night you can curl up with Tricket- who was always your best bud and who was probably so happy to see you- next to a warm fireplace (that never gets too hot like ours did,) and that everything is okay. I miss you so much, but I am so glad now you're safe and nothing can ever hurt you and that you never had a bad day. I don't know what I believe or what I think happens after you die but I know if there is anything on this planet that deserves some kind of eternal reward, it is Good Dogs.
Thank you. I miss you. I'm sorry. I love you.

-- your family

This morning, it's damp and warm and the yard is too muddy and full of bees to play in, so after breakfast* I said, "Henry, do you wanna go to the park?" He shrieked excitedly, which I took as a yes. I got his shoes on, got the dogs leashed up, fetched the stoller, and opened the door. The dogs ran out into the yard, Henry toddling after them. He adruptly stopped on the first step and began poking at a large, dead cicadia.**

"No, Henry!" I called. "Don't touch the dead bug."
"Nuh uh." he said, and grasped it in his tiny fist. Then suddenly he shrieked and opened his hand, and the cicadia buzzed from his hand and took off into the air. I screamed, dropped the stroller, and slammed the door, effectively locking my son outside with the gross bug. It took me a second of heavy breathing and grasping the baby to my chest before I realized my toddler was on the loose and probably going feral at that very moment, and wrenched the door open again. The cicadia had fallen to the sidewalk and given up the ghost, presumably permanently this time, and Henry was sitting on the step, waiting for me, gazing at me with the saddest look on his face that I've ever seen.

There are two things to be learned here-

1) I am a horrible mother. I feel really terrible.

2) My son can resurrect the dead.

* He did have applesauce and a scrambled egg for breakfast, so I did at least feed him a relatively healthy meal to start things with.

** I hate cicadias. I hate, hate, hate them. We are just deep enough itno the south to get those horrific seventeen year cicadias, and there's a mini-cycle of them out now, so being outside has been a nightmare for me.

http://www.npr.org/blogs/monkeysee/.....rspective#more

Just a warning for other victims of sexual assault, this is really, really triggering.

WHAT THE EVER-LOVING FUCK. SO YOU BASICALLY COERCED AND RAPED A WOMAN AFTER SHE TOLD YOU SEVERAL TIMES TO LEAVE AND THIS IS HILARIOUS AND EVERYONE JUST STANDS THERE AND CHUCKLES AND MAKES FUCKING JOKES. GOOD FOR YOU. GOOD FOR FUCKING YOU. I HOPE YOU GET THE FUCKING ATTENTION YOU SO OBVIOUSLY CRAVE FROM THE POLICE AND THE GENTLEMEN IN THE PRISON YOU HOPEFULLY WILL BE SENT TO.


(the gentleman in question begins his monologue at the 38-minute mark in the video should you choose to watch it, but it is intensely disturbing.)

There are no words I can say about rape culture and misogyny and all that other stuff I usually crow about...I'm just feeling kind of sick and sad.

On a happier note..

We survived the hurricane intact- drove out to West Virginia, hunkered down in a scary motel, watched Star Wars all weekend, and ate a lot of Waffle House. (Everything in my life makes sense now that I've seen Star Wars, btw.) I'm pretty sure Ava smiled at me for the first time, and we drove back full of road rage, since no one in the freaking world knows how to drive except husband and me. We returned to find our bird bath a little fuller than normal and our backyard pond had more leaves than usual floating on the top, but that was the extent of our damage. (Also- a large puddle in our yard got a little larger, and had a stick in it.) Pretty lucky. Now we just have to worry about hurricane Katia killing us all next week.

And now, less than 24 hours after our earthquake scare, a helicopter goes low enough directly over my house that I could hear the individual blades chopping the air, and the house shook slightly again. Poor Chloe threw herself onto the floor, and lay there shaking until I could coax her up. OHHHH DC I DON'T KNOW WHY WE STAY HERE.

Today I was sitting on the couch, watching Maury at 1:50-something or so, when a slight tremor began under my feet.

"Hunh." I thought. "Perhaps a truck is going by."

The shaking began to intensify, and Chloe and Skittles began to bark, and Henry began to cry. Without thinking, I grabbed him and Ava and ran down the hall and crouched in the doorway of the bathroom. It maybe only lasted 45 seconds, but it was the strangest, most surreal 45 seconds ever. I was terrified a nuke had landed on DC, and it wasn't until the aftershocks began that I was for sure it was an earthquake. So then my thoughts turned to- "Holy hell there's an earthquake, my man is on the eleventh floor of a building not zoned for earthquakes oh no."

WHAT A GLORIOUS DAY TO FORGET TO CHARGE HIS PHONE.

Long story short, everyone is fine, the rest of the day was sunny and clear, and as soon as we had heard back from our respective husbands my friend Mallory and I went out to get our hair done and eat lunch, as we had spent a good portion of the afternoon making frantic phone calls and running out into the street to confer with neighbors. I managed to get feather extensions in my mom-hair, so I look less like "mom hair" and more like a 24 year old. When we were in the salon, getting our feathers put in, (mine are two small white-and-black ones, hers were five huge purple ones,) she said-

"I love these! I want to put them on my dog!"

"They make them for dogs." Jesse, the girl who does our hair, said. "The grooming place across town can put them in for you."

"OH SHIT." I said, and made the appointment for colliedog on the way home. I picked her up after dinner. She looks like Kesha's furry character...it's pretty amazing.

so that was my earthquake day. Is everyone else okay?

Dear Commissioners-

I am so, so, sooooo sorry I have been taking longer than normal with your pieces. I've been so busy and so tired at the end of the day and I've a wee bit of postpartum baby blues that's just now starting to clear. The fog is lifting, and I am going to get back to work soon. Eventually.

In other news, Ava is getting past the "ugly gargoyle" stage and starting to look like a real person. She is awake a lot more often and behaves more like a baby and less like a potato. Henry's turned into a GREAT big brother- much more so than I expected. He can bring me her diapers and likes to lay right on my side and pet her hair when she's sleeping. This is a contrast to how he acts with other kids- he likes to slap other toddlers around at the playground, which makes me frown but makes hooband laugh.

A lot has been going on at Casa de Ellie, but hopefully I'll be back in the swing of things soon.

http://melodys-notes.blogspot.com/2.....eartbreak.html


Dear Fundamental Independent Baptist Families-

I know we don't get along. That's okay! It takes all kinds to make the world go around, and I promise that my life of fornication, alcohol consumption, and gleeful blasphemy balances out your sins of hate and lying and all that other stuff you do that makes Jesus sad. Most of the time I try not to focus on the things you believe, even though I disagree with them, and instead point out that beating your children and making them pray over your bloody clump of a miscarriage to bring it back to life seems really, really unhealthy, but now I feel compelled to speak up.

You don't publish photos of other women on the internet without their consent. You do not publish photos of other women's children on the internet without their consent. You do not do so with accompanying text saying that she had an abortion. It doesn't matter what the circumstances are. Her reproductive system is none of your business. It doesn't matter what you believe or what she told you- nothing in the world makes it okay to take and post a photo of someone on the internet with information like that without their consent. And hiding the comment asking if you had consent makes it terribly obvious that no, no you didn't.

Abortion is often a more complicated issue than, "I just want to kill this baby I conceieved through debauchery and wrongdoing" and the reasons behind it are as different as the women who choose to undergo the procedure, and it is not your place or privilige to shame women who make a choice that you've never had to make. Having been through both situations, let me be the first to tell you that finding out you're pregnant when you're in an abusive relationship with a man who's already displayed an ample proclivity to harm children is a very different feeling then finding out you're pregnant with someone who loves and supports you.

Oh, and telling me that because I'm a mother I should be pro-life and somehow indicating that because I'm not, my own children are in danger- no. If anything, having the babies made me MORE pro-choice, because I understand now how completely it changes your life and the amount of sheer dedication it takes not only to get through a pregnancy in one peice but to raise an actual child to adulthood. It's not something anyone should be forced to undergo. As far as saying that you fear for my children- spare me. Henry is more than capable of defending himself if I try to abort him. He bites.

A while ago, I was out in the yard with Henry and Ava and the dogs, blowing bubbles. (Henry likes to pop them, the dogs like to eat them, and Ava kind of just watches everything. I swear she smiles at stuff, but my mother says it's just gas.) We are about a block from Old Town Alexandria, and a gentleman in a shirt from the Hard Times cafe came wandering down our sidewalk. I didn't think too much of this. Then my dogs began barking- they don't bark at people coming down the sidewalk ever, so that was strange. I thought maybe since the kids were out with me they were being extra protective, but the guy stopped at the edge of our yard, sat down, then lay flat on his beack, crossed his arms, and began mumbling to himself.

"Excuse me!" I said, from where I was sitting on the front porch with my arms full of protesting baby and growling dog, and a puddle of bubble solution rapidly spreading across my feet. "Sir...excuse me!" He mumbled in spanish some more. I frowned. El came out of the front door.

"What's wrong with the dogs?" He asked. I pointed. He frowned, and walked over to the edge of our yard, and spoke in Spanish rapidly with the gentleman for a couple of moments. Then he came back.

"Is he okay?" I asked.

"He's fine. He's just drunk." he said, and sat down next to me, and pulled out his phone. "I'm going to call the police. Do you want to take the kids inside?"

"No, I want to watch this."

"Ellie."

"Elvin."

"Can you put the dogs inside at least?"

"Okay." I relented. I got the dogs inside, and got a glass of water. While the police siren whined down the road and the neighbors began to gather in their respective yards, I handed the scary drunk man a glass of water, and the popo began to fill our little street. Since the popo were all rather white and monolingual, poor Husband was forced to translate back and forth. So then they asked him for his ID, which he didn't have. And then he was crying, and eventually they realized or he told them he was here illegally. So then they called INS and had to handcuff the guy and sit him on our curb while they were waiting. And then they realized he had just been kicked out of the restaurant he worked at for being drunk, so they called the manager of the chili place over to ID him, since he had no ID. So then the manager of the Hard Times Cafe, five popos, husband, and drunk scary man are all sitting there talking, and eventually the INS come and spend about half an hour talking to the restaurant manager. And then the manager called the owner of the restaurant and had them bring the guy's employee file and apparently they had an argument about what kind of documentation they needed and asked the poor dishwasher all kinds of questions without a lawyer present and then bundled him up and took him away. And then the owner came over and apologized like, seven times to us, and then ran back up the street, and came back with like, 100$ worth of gift certificates. So now El is all excited about 100$ worth of free chili, and Henry is excited because a popo let him wear his hat, and Ava is asleep and I have slippery feet from the bubble stuff all over my foot. My cast is all sticky and weird now. Oh, and the dogs are still freaked out. Colliedog really, REALLY doesn't like drunk people.

So goodbye and farewell, drunken dishwasher from Hard Times Cafe. I'm so sorry you're pretty much having the worst day in the universe, and I hope things pick up for you soon. In the meantime, please don't throw people's expensive glass cups anymore. That was my last one. And my bad grandma gave them to me, and it's the only thing she ever gave me because she hates us.

>:C

Hey, tawt-

I just had a baby four days ago, of COURSE I'm fat. What's your excuse for your overwhelming douchebaggery?

welcome to the world, tiny tiny Ava Dorothy! We are relieved and excited that you are finally here. <3

So sometimes for reasons unknown to me, people ask me for advice, which I think is weird because I kind of feel like I'm the last person to ever make a rational, well thought out decision, but it usually seems to work out for them when they take it. So.
So as me for advice! Tell me your problems, and I will give you a hilarious, on-target solution to said problem. I'm like ask Amy, only I curse more. Let's do this! I am so bored from lying here I'm liable to lose my mind.

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/43302321/

Okay, so apparently this 35 year old man had a girlfriend who left him. OH AND BY THE WAY SHE WAS 18 AND DEVELOPMENTALLY DELAYED- LET'S GET THAT OUT THERE RIGHT NOW. 35 year old man who works at a college, and 18 year old developmentally delayed student at said college. That alone should tell you how this will go.
So, Captain Creeper is told that the 18 year old victim is pregnant, and apparently he wants to keep the baby, and she does not. Some kind of argument ensues, and victim and abuser separate, rather by mutual agreement or by force on the woman's part- that is unclear. At some point, the victim miscarries the baby.* So what does Captain Creeper do? He makes a GIANT FUCKING BILLBOARD ADVERTISEMENT ABOUT THE WOMAN "KILLING" THE FETUS AND PLASTERS IT ON THE SIDE OF THE HIGHWAY.
It gets even more convoluted- Apparently this defender of the defenseless, this crusader for fetuses, this bereaved father who just wanted to hold his child- already has at least one child that he does not take care of, as evidenced by the child support court record here-

http://s3.amazonaws.com/data.tumblr.....dhUI1nP6tbw%3D

Also, he thinks domestic violence jokes are HILARIOUS, guys! You can see several of his favorites just by clickin' on his twitter! Don't forget- domestic violence isn't funny. :l But joking about it sure is! :D

http://twitter.com/#!/prdpgn

Here's a slideshow of all his misogynistic tweets-

http://s1223.photobucket.com/albums.....view=slideshow

Anyone want to take bets on how battered and broken this poor girl was by the time this creeper was done with her?
Seriously, this is sick. None of this seems to have anything to do with wanting to keep that fetus, or about how he loved his girlfriend and wanted to help and support her through her pregnancy and help her raise a child. This seems to be more about how he was left, he was ignored, and now he wants revenge, like a petty, whining child. This reminds me so much of Eric it makes me ill. Literally ill. I want to bring this girl a chai tea and a pillow pet and a gift card for lots and lots of extensive therapy so she can get this behind her and find a real man who dates women his own age and treats other people like human beings and not like extensions of his inflated ego to control and beat on.

There's not a whole lot we can do, but there is a website taking messages of support for this poor girl-

http://www.fortheloveofnani.com/call-to-action.php

And so just dropping a quick message through might make a difference. It's a drop in the bucket, but I know first hand- and I know a couple of people reading this do, too- how isolating domestic violence is, and the amount of victim blaming that goes on.

I still just...such rage.

* While the news report says it is unclear whether she miscarried or aborted the pregnancy, she says she miscarried, so as far as I'm concerned, she miscarried. This poor girl has been dragged through enough.

Copy pasta'd from a facebook friend-

Priscilla

I am extremely sick of this anorexic/super-skinny, emo-looking fashion trend with dark raccoon eyes and impaired vision...

If you WANT to look like a zombie that bad, GO to a Halloween store!!!

/rant


Priscilla I do apologize for anyone I have offended. Doesn't make my statement any less true. ♥

Patrick Falcon Pawnch Or let them die and start decomposing to stay true with their look. The world would be a better place. ;)

Sarah I love it! Models and actress' should not try to look like they are on their death beds! Our kids look up to them! It is almost disgusting anymore!


Hay, I totally dig- there needs to be more diversity in Hollywood and on the runway. Not everyone can pull off that boyish figure type thing. And you should do you- I'm on the curvy side myself, and I love it. But that doesn't mean that a skinny girl who likes wearing lots of eyeliner is any less beautiful. Get over yourself. FFS.

In other news....I have figured out a vague, lurch-waddle-lurch stride that allows me to hobble along precariously through the house. I've cleaned the bedroom and the bathroom and dragged furniture all throughout the house. Not really advisable, but I cannot sit still.

I went to go water my tomatoes and fell down. The baby is okay but I broke my ankle homies! Seriosuly. What the fuck.

So sometimes I go and read fundie blogs, and usually I do not comment. The other day though, one paticularly nasty specimen was going on about how stupid evolution-believers are. Here is her logic, behold-

Kayla said...

I don't understand why atheists are concerned about doing right and wrong? If there is no god, then what would be the point? All our morals come from the Bible. Where eles did they come from? We feel emotions because we have a soul that came from God. It would make no sense to care about anyone eles if there was no God. Nothing would make sense. Maybe some of you people can't read, Zz didn't say L shouldn't morn her son, she was asking why because atheists believe we do not have souls. If they did that would be very strange. God doesn't believe in atheists, the Bible says in every man's heart he knows there is a God. Oh and I'm sure she will be upset that people who leave hateful rude comments all the time, aren't going to come back! Lol!

...and so, as you can see, I felt compelled.

ellie said...



If all that it takes to get to Heaven is accepting the Christ as your personal savior, then what is the point of God giving us morals? Is the single mother prostitute drug dealer as good a Christian in your eyes as the meek and modest housewife who submits to her husband and would rather die than take birth control, even if they both believe that Jesus died on the cross for them and both are saved? They're both going to Heaven, right?
Not believing in a higher power does not stop a person from feeling. It doesn't take away a sense of wonder or appreciation for life and the world around us. It doesn't render people into lumps of molecules and chemical processes. And it doesn't stop someone from wanting to help people who need it. I suppose you could say that atheists- and many non-afterlife-centered religions, like Taoism- don't need a promise of an eternal reward to do the right thing. We do it because we love our fellow man and want to make other people as comfortable as we can. Not because God wants us to be nice to each other, but because we want to be nice to each other without needing prompting.

And I got a reply thusly-

Zsuzsana said...

Ellie,

if "helping one another allowed us to survive and evolve", how did animals evolve who kill and eat each other, steal from one another, and on and on? A "survival of the fittest" mentality leads to genocide and eugenics, not to helping the weakest link in what you consider to be nothing but a food chain. How can you and other atheists on here believe in absolute morals when you have no leg to stand on? You have no authority whatsoever to impose your values on anyone else. If you get mugged at the park at night, it was to advance the evolution of women who can run faster, punch harder, and/or scream louder. You should feel grateful for the opportunity to advance your species.

er.....did she just suggest I should go get myself mugged?

ellie said...

Zsuzsu,

I'm actually not an atheist, but that's neither here nor there.

You'll notice that while there are animals who kill and eat each other, steal from each other, and so on, there are also animals which live in closely knit family groups, who tend to each other and cooperate to further the survival of the family group. You'll also notice that among these social animals are other self aware, tool-using mammals, such as dolphins and great apes- gorillas, chimpanzees, and humans. Cooperation is an amazing survival tool- actively hunting, for instance, is energy intensive and risky, so it makes more sense to spread the risk out amongst several members of a group. Increased survival rates amongst individuals of a population leads to greater genetic diversity, which leads to a healthier population. Living in a group makes strong emotions important, and thus empathy and the ability to make emotional attachments are formed. You'll notice, if you do some research on the topic, that we are far from the only species to extend that empathy and "moral" behavior to others outside our species- dolphins have assisted shark bite victims, a gorilla named Bindi protected a small boy that fell into her pen and carried him to the keepers, and a lioness in a game reserve in Kenya protected an oryx calf from other lions. There are many, many examples in the natural world of animals- humans included- displaying empathic and moral behavior.

Also, I'm not sure what the last part of your comment was about, as it didn't make much sense. I'm not going to touch on the suggestion that I get mugged, although that is pretty ugly of you- you'll notice I've been nothing but polite- and simply say that, having been in college in Europe, (especially with Germany's high school system, which is very different from the one in the US) you should know perfectly well that that is not how evolution works. I'm sorry that you're squashing the knowledge that you know you have and playing so ignorant here.

And then finally-

Zsuzsanna said...

Ellie, I certainly wish you no ill whatsoever. I was trying to illustrate how silly the concept of evolution is.

YUP. GOOD JOB THERE, SPORT. YOU SURE SHOWED ME.

Seriously. I...what.

http://jezebel.com/5808319/a-horror.....-to-give-birth

I bring you...a pro-life horror film. I cannot figure out how this is supposed to sway anyone who was thinking that militant pro-lifers are whackjobs, but...there you have it.

Remember, ladies- the only value and life you have that is worth anything at all is your capacity to incubate fetuses for ten months and give birth. Why bother having any outside ambitions, goals, and wants for yourself? Babies!

Okay, so.

I'm closing down all my non-outstanding commissions. I need some time to get used to the realities of my new life and that includes not working on outside things while transitioning to the sheer busy-ness of the way things currently are.

UNLESS MONEY HAS CHANGED HANDS, CONSIDER YOUR COMMISSION CANCELED FOR THE FORSEEABLE FUTURE.

When I do reopen commissions, I will be adding a new TOS and changing prices, and that likely won't be until the winter or so at the earliest. A lot of things are changing around here and I'm not sure what my free time is going to be looking like, or even if it's going to be existent.

So.

I've got itchy fingers, so I'll still be drawing, but I don't know how much or what kind of things.

Okay, so.

I hate Rolling Thunder.

I am eight months pregnant. I have a fifteen month old infant. I do not want to hear motorcycles careening past my house at six in the morning on a Sunday, thanks. I completely approve of thanking our armed forces for their services, which is why I used to guide tours around the monuments on the weekends. I just don't see how MAKE LOTS OF NOISE AND WAVE TINY FLAGS really equates to "A Quiet Day of Somber Reflection." But I do get the jist behind it and I do appreciate that other people choose to remember things this way and I really think it's important to raise awareness of the plight of POWs abroad and pay respect to those service members who disappeared in action.

So, Sarah Palin, please take yourself out behind the porta potties and kill yourself.

I have a friend from high school who disappeared in Afghanistan in 2008 and is presumed dead. Yesterday was about him and his sacrifice and the fact that he paid the ultimate price in a senseless illegal war to protect us, not about you, or your pathetic political agenda. No one asked you to come and participate, and you were not a guest of honor. You had no right or reason to come careening in there like a Cornhusker Queen at the Rhubarb festival in whatever backwards little town you came from.

Is this what PROUD AMERICAN PATRIOTS YA'LL do where you come from? Cause I know I'm not a REAL AMERICAN because I think gay people should get married and I think that if I want a abortion that I deserve to do so safely and legally, but if being a REAL GODDAMN AMERICAN means that you completely and unequivically steal the scene from the actual veterans and their families and turn it into a massive photo op for yourself, then you can take your tiny American flag and choke on it.

You should be ashamed of yourself, but we all know you won't be.

Here's just a quick list of the stuff I'm currently working on! I try not to take on more then 10 projects at any given time and I'm trying to take it easy more than ever so I don't get too burned out now, since I won't be able to go anywhere or do anything else, so requests are closed. You can still totally get on this list with a commission, but it might be a bit of a wait since I'm moving rather slowly right now and trying to do things I feel like doing- which is hard, cause I feel like I want to go running and horseback riding again.

1) Growing Baby in womb...80% completed! Seven more weeks to go.

2) Three illustrations for  Akyana... All are being colored, but I get tired easily these days so I'm taking them slow so I can ensure that they are my best work! They are all about 50% completed and should be posted by Wednesday of next week or so.

3) Knitting brown mammoth plushie husband...10% completed. It's a larger plush than the pig, since he's a bit of a fattie fat and all...I'm looking foward to shaping the head and the tusks though! It should be a really interesting knit. (Husband does not approve of this operation. "Why is mine bigger than yours?" he asked, seeing me lay the flat torso down next to my already finished self portrait. "Because you're kind of a fatty." I replied.)

4) Knitting my pullover for my cousin's birthday which already passed at the beginning of May..30% completed.

5) A comic on reserve for  Akyana

6) Nada
7) Nada
8) Nada
9) Nada
10) Nada

Bedrest, day 6-

Someone save me. :l

Bedrest, day 4-

Matt Woodle says: So what are you doing in bed all day?

Ellie Beinhart-Hernandez says: Petting my kitty

Matt Woodle says: ....are you serious?

Ellie Beinhart-Hernandez says: ...yes?

Matt Woodle says: Oh. Oh, awesome.

Ellie Beinhart-Hernandez says: It's pretty great. Kitty likes it!

Matt Woodle says: I bet Kitty does. Are you petting it hard?

Ellie Beinhart-Hernandez says: Well, I would, but he keeps rolling around and biting me. :c


Matt Woodle is offline and cannot recieve messages right now.


I didn't even realize how that looked until Matt had been gone for like five minutes lol.

I hope ya'll made right with your Lord and are prepared to go on home to Jesus!

And if not, I hope you're planning to go to a Chik Fil A or Walmart and wait! Once the rapture begins, just grab the nearest ascending and ride them all the way up to Heaven. You win! You could even tie twelve or so of them together, tie the other ends of the rope to a lawn chair, and BOOM! A fancy chariot, to ride all the way to Jesus with.

And if Heaven sounds boring, I hope you've found a sweet mansion to squat in, and that you've got space cleared out in your trunk to snag all the good stuff when the looting begins. Being more of a critical thinker and less of a "kneejerk reaction-er" myself, I'm heading to garden supply stores and the grocery store...snatching up seeds to sow so I'll have food to eat long after everyone else has succumbed to the sweet, sweet siren call of cannibalism. I've got a crossbow and a shotgun ready to shoot demons with, and pack animals to carry my canned goods and seedlings when I leave for the sea,* and my best friend Dan is planning to go ahead and cut off his own arm and replace it with a harpoon gun and become the cannibal king of a roaming motorcycle band. I tried to point out that he'd have a really hard time driving a motorcycle with a harpoon gun arm, but there's just no reasoning with some people.

If anyone wants to team up with us and form a last holdout of humanity and repopulate the world with sinners, (unless Jesus snatches up the fetuses before we get too far, you know how Jesus feels about those. Fetuses are like vitamins for Jesus!) You can. Membership to my exclusive "last remnant of humanity" holdout costs 150$. You can post it to my paypal. (Surflikeagirl87@hotmail.com !) DON'T WAIT! Jesus could come back any second, and if he destroys the internet while he's at it, it will be too late and you'll be on your own.

And here's a free download to listen to while you wait. You don't have to download it, you can just play it on the page. It's a good song to watch the riteous flip their lids to. c:

http://jilltracy.bandcamp.com/track.....msday-serenade


*"To the sea!" seems a fair battle cry after the rapture. After all, there's food in abundance around the bay...it's a breeding estuary for sharks, after all! And the soil here is actually pretty good. My plan is to head south and to the coast.

Right now my photoshop is all wonky, so if I owe you a digital piece it might be a little bit of a wait until we can have my friend come out and poke at my computer with a tiny screwdriver. He's coming out tomorrow, since I have nothing better to do, so we should be up and running again soon. I appreciate your patience, the miracle of life thing is...not going smoothly.

The second thing is...once I get through the current list of commissions at the footer of this journal, I will no longer be accepting pornographic commissions for the forseeable future, or drawing anything above PG. I WILL ALSO BE DELETING THE NON-PG STUFF FROM THIS ACCOUNT, SO CONSIDER THIS YOUR WARNING. I might archive it at my adult account I forgot about,

 threepigmoon

And I might not. If you want it, save it, cause I might get tired and lazy and forget. If I do decide to reopen adult commissions, they will be posted on that account, not this one.

I am still taking G-rated commissions though, and this queue is about to empty, so fill it back up please. c:

So today is my last day of classes, but my mom didn't know that and went to work and so I had to take Henry to class with me. On the way there, I stopped by starbucks and got a bagel with cream cheese, and put everything on a desk when I got to my classroom so I could fiddle around with things a little. When I eventually got settled with my bagel and my computer and my baby, I realized that I had left my orange juice sitting on a desk. So I put Henry on my desk by my computer for two seconds to grab my juice. I waddled across the room, picked it up, and turned around in time to see Henry innocently licking the cream cheese, (which I had applied liberally) off of my bagel.
"You silly boy! Give me tha- JESUS FUCKING CHRIST."
For reasons known only to him, Henry had seized my bagel and smeared it across the keyboard and screen of my (brand new,) netbook, leaving a sea of cream cheese smeared into the crevices betwixt the keys and across the screen. He looked at me- mouth agape, weeping silent tears of frustration- and then, with his gangster* face on, stuck his hand on the screen and smeared the cream cheese smear even further across the screen.
And then he laughed.
Dear God how am I supposed to handle two of these. :c