Our version was slightly different at the end:

With a big fat gun
And a bullet in his head
Aren’t you glad that fuckers dead

It’s a crossover between Nine Inch Nail and Dee Snider

I was a teenager and had two younger siblings who were obsessed with it. I remember getting in trouble for hiding one of their VHS tapes.

I had a modded version that made it all characters from The Tick

I mixed up her food and the crushed pill, then I opened a can of the cat’s food and just let the juice fall into her bowl. She chowed it down like she hadn’t eaten in days.

I swear I have the pickiest animals. We buy the variety box of wet cat food, but have to make sure it doesn’t have the turkey one because our cat won’t eat it.

Good call, she’ll take any chance she gets to get at our cat’s food.

Thankfully she hasn’t realized how pet doors work. She must think it’s some special cat portal because she watches the cat come in and out of it, but has never tried to go through it herself. But the second that door gets left open she is in there looking for the cat’s bowls.

also, I’d be rather more worried if the rat was still alive.

Ha, it was a dead rat she found, not one she killed, which makes it a little more gross in my book, but the title was long enough already

I never thought about the cheese. The vet said to take the pill out of the packaging and let it sit out a bit so the smell dissipates but she still knows it’s there. I’ll give the cheese a shot. But it can’t be Colby Jack because for some reason she won’t eat that either.

A’d blame it on auto-correct, like, but a think it was just me proper dodgy spellin’! - my horrible attempt at a Geordie accent

Stole those from my sisters all the time to be Geordie

I love the joke, and I also love her.

She is the sweetest person I’ve met at a convention. I was pretty starstruck meeting her, so of course my brain just turned off, and she was so kind and told me a couple of stories. When my brain finally rebooted, I asked her to sign the picture for my wife, and she came around the table to give me a hug telling me how sweet that was. She could have just signed a picture and sent me on my way. But her taking that extra 30 seconds or so gave me an experience I’ll never forget.

I brushed my daughter’s hair… FOR THE GLORY OF THE EMPIRE!

I look him up and down. I’ve seen it a thousand times. He is all bravado and boot jingles. Dressed like he stepped straight out of a Western Warehouse. I could tell those shiny boots had never stepped foot on a ranch. Just puffed-up pride wrapped in a cowboy hat, trying to mask the desperation of someone who’s never been anywhere else. And doesn’t realize he is the one getting fucked by the system.

“You’ll be seeing me soon, huh?” I say, watching his eyes flicker. “Let me tell you something, partner. If you don’t straighten out that attitude of yours—if you don’t drop this little act and do your job like a professional—I’ll find someone else to sell this house.” I let the words sink in before delivering the knife twist. “Maybe a dame.”

His mouth opens, then shuts.

“Oh yeah,” I continue, my voice smooth as the whiskey he probably pretends to drink neat. “I’ll bring in one of those ‘progressive libs’ you despise so much. Maybe someone fresh out of California, with a Prius and pronouns in her email signature. Someone who’ll take your commission, your sale, and leave you standing in the dust.”

His face twitches. The bravado cracks. He swallows hard. His grip loosens on my hand.

“Good talk,” I say, finally letting go of his hand. “Now get to work.”

My wife and I sat across from each other, eyes heavy with the kind of exhaustion you don’t shake with a good night’s sleep. The school had made its choice—they put our boy in harm’s way, ignored the words on paper that were supposed to protect him. An IEP, they called it. Just another stack of bureaucracy to them. To us, it was supposed to be a shield. But shields don’t work when the people holding them don’t give a damn.

So we made our choice too. He wasn’t going back. Not to that school. Not to a system that saw him as a problem instead of a person. We are taking matters into our own hands—homeschooling.

And Texas? We were done. Finished. Washing our hands of it. This place chews people up and spits them out, and we aren’t waiting around to be next. Somewhere out there, there had to be a place where education means more than lip service, where kids aren’t just numbers on a budget sheet.

Tomorrow, we meet the realtor. Sell the house. Cut the ties. A clean break. A new start. Maybe, just maybe, we’ll find a place where they gave a damn.

Karma - there are way too many shitty people who just continue to be shitty because nothing ever comes back to bite them. Meanwhile, people who actually try to help are kicked around the most.

Zebra F-402 - I write really small and their fine tips flow great but don’t run. Plus they’re cheap enough that I don’t care when my wife or kids steal them out of my desk.

And so you don’t have to keep clicking

https://deslide.clusterfake.net/?o=html_table&u=https%3A%2F%2Fwhatculture.com%2Ftv%2F21-star-trek-actors-who-died-in-2024

A few year back, I took my daughter to an urgent care clinic. She was around 2 or 3 years old. While in the waiting room their office phone rang and my daughter jumped and went, “What was that?” because she had never heard a landline ring before.

Inserts disk: click, click, click

“fuck, I knew I should have put that on a CD-RW.”