I honestly have a lot of favorite conversations between Walter and Paige (seeing as they are my OTP), but if I had to narrow it down to just one (which was really, really hard), I’d have to pick the ending of 1x18 “Once Bitten, Twice Die.” We all know Walter appreciates everything Paige does, but I think, in this moment, he outwardly tells her how much he values her place on the team as well as values her as a friend. In spite of how he feels about the liberal arts, he is willing to go out of his way to make sure she gets to her class on time (WHILE HE IS STILL RECOVERING FROM A NEAR DEATH EXPERIENCE). He even openly tells her he has faith in her abilities by telling her she’ll nail her test. :) The level of trust and faith he has had in Paige since day one is overwhelming, but I think the ending of 1x18 is where Walter vividly sees himself slowly changing because of Paige; the little things she has taught him has significantly changed his outlook on life, but I don’t think he he realizes it until this moment. :) :) :) And that, in the broadest of terms, is why I favor this conversation over all of the others. :D
So sad when satire is made relevant (again). And that episode of Family Guy was just re-aired last Sunday. Is there no place in American that people can worship, work, or unwind without some fucking asshole shooting up the place? And will anything get done? No, not even when the majority of gun owners want more regulation. Why? Because the NRA has Congress by the balls and none of them will risk their sweet lobbyist-funded positions, even to save lives.
Due to my nanaddan and Nori not undressing today, they were not attacked by bugs as they were yesterday. However, Mr Baggins was once again bitten, despite being clothed. He asked me to help him with rubbing salve onto his back, as he could not reach.
I have to wake up at 4:30 AM (uuuuggggghhh) to go help with swine health checks at the county fair! Wish me luck, I have absolutely zero experience with pigs and I’m fairly anxious about it. I guess the vets will talk you through it, but it’s still a tad nerve-wracking? Especially since I fucked up and missed my volunteer slot today, I feel like I have to really bring my A-game (..at 6 AM).
On the bright side, I got to buy some sweet navy blue coveralls and rubber boots. I AM READY FOR THE SWINE.
Things had gotten out of control, Brett was still not fully aware of everything that was going on with the doctors but when Stiles was attacked by some strange mix of werewolf and kanima, Brett had no choice but to step in. Things got hectic, bloody and he ended up with no other choice but to bite the human, Stiles had been hurt drastically and if Brett didn’t bite him he’d die. Brett panicked and bit him and before anyone else could get involved, after he tore the creature to shreds, Brett took off, taking Stiles with him. He put Stiles in his bed, glad that nobody was home and then he waited, sitting at the foot of his own bed, hoping Stiles would wake up soon and hoping he wouldn’t freak out entirely.
SO BASICALLY While I was gone at camp for a month (there are so many stories about that I want people to ask about) I was living in a garden, and one of the problems with that is you share your living space with yellow jackets. There WERE bees, but they left us alone.
The Yellow Jackets… Those bastards stung and bit almost everyone at least two or three times. I managed to only get bitten once, but that was an anomaly.
So the entire month was a quiet extended war against Yellow Jackets for our own food. So we got clever.
We made traps out of everything: Orange juice and soap in a bowl, honey on a stick, but most importantly, fly swatters.
My mom sent me a pack of fly swatters for no reason, but they turned out to be extraordinarily useful. Everyday we would swat many tens of yellow jackets, but it was one day in particular that brings back memories…
You see, as part of cooking our own food, there were days when we would use a mini kitchen that was in a part of the camp. This was a pizza day, and we needed the oven in that kitchen. Apparently, so did the yellow jackets.
My counselor came screaming up the hill to the garden, “THE YELLOW JACKETS ARE EVERYWHERE!!! WE NEED THE SWATTERS!!!”
He caught up with the group and gathered five kids who volunteered to be part of the swat squad. The six of us together were swat team six. (I hope that’s not offensive.)
We went down to the kitchen, fly swatters in hand, ready for hell.
I also brought my speaker, with Titus Andronicus (a punk band) all loaded up, and so we went into the mini kitchen.
There must have been hundreds of those demons, the air was coated yellow and black by the monsters. And so the swatting began.
It was a beautiful organized chaos, the buzzing of wings and the screams of adults and teens mixed together in a gooey sweaty mess in a tiny kitchen not meant to accompany such a mass of living beings. The punk beat was surging through our hearts, our vision was turning red as we stood together in the face of hell’s army. And we swatted, and we didn’t stop. We went after as many as we possibly could.
After half an hour, the kitchen was covered in dead yellow jackets and the sweat that had flown from our bodies. We were sitting outside, laughing, crying, feeling. It was an odd and disgusting moment. Wrapped in human evil, but also the human intensity and passion.
I do not believe in hunting for sport in any sense ever. I think it’s a disgusting idea, but I believe what happened was separate, for yellow jackets are awful little buggers. I hope I am forgiven for that day, I have plenty of atonement I must do.
That is the story of the yellow jackets. The story I will never forget.
Vampire tag: is best played outside in the dark, one person is chosen to be "it" this person is the "vampire". A safe spot is chosen, and the vampire to count.Everyone else spreads out, and after the vamp stops counting they go and find them. To catch those who are hiding/running the vampire has to bite them anywhere on their body. Once you are bitten you must join the vampire and seek the others. The main objective is to make it back to the safe spot without being bitten.
Netflix, once again, luring me with more tv shows when I have plenty on my list already.
Please tell me the show is about her having sex with all of those men at various points and eventually the scheduling becomes too frustrating so they construct the world’s largest dog beg and sleep in a giant tangled pile for the rest of their lives.
Please that is all I want right now.
If that’s not what this show is about, I’ll write the polyamorous werewolf tv show script myself.
Waige Appreciation Week Day 2: Favorite Conversation
Like others, my favorite conversation was at the end of Once Bitten, Twice Die.
What I love most about it is while Paige absolutely does not need Walter’s approval or validation of her choice of a class, he doesn’t give praise lightly. When he tells her he’s proud of her, that’s a major statement coming from him (kinda like how I’m extremely stingy when it comes to what I will call an OTP) and you could see what that meant to Paige - she was taking the class whether he took it seriously or not, but even though she knew he hadn’t found history relevant, she still confided her anxiety about the test to him. And on Walter’s side, he was genuinely admiring her drive, her desire to set an example for Ralph, and how her knowledge had helped them. And she understood how much a compliment like “I’m proud of you” means coming from Walter.
❝you silly little girl, you think you’ve survived so long that survival shouldn’t hurt anymore. you keep trying to turn your body bullet proof. you keep trying to turn your heart bomb shelter. you silly thing. you are soft and alive. you bruise and heal.❞ — LISTEN
“Hellfire burns like fire but is the consistency of thick black pitch.” - Reverend Cotton Mather, Salem.
…The Black Eyed Creature…
A subspecies of vampire, those born with the ability to be a black eyed creature are youthful in appearance but dark in their hearts but it is considered an infection. This infection was one created by a demon in hell and spawned from the hellfire they were so coated in as they lived it entered their very bodies and filled them up. At the time of a black eye creature ( commonly known as a black eyed kid or bek ) emerges it will, without intent, release a pheromone that causes those around to feel an overwhelming sense of fear and dread. More exposure to this pheromone will cause hallucinations of ones own personal fears. Those infected with the pheromone that the black eyed creature emits will be able to make the shift once bitten and turned into a vampire. As a human this pheromone merely lingers in the body, depending on the amount that has entered them it will make them a bit more fearful or could turn them into a paranoid schizophrenic. The only way to remove this pheromone is through inhaling the smoke of burning the edelweiss flower, like thyme it means courage and helps flood the body of the fear pheromone that has entered. If the pheromone is not removed it will continue on through the bloodline of the one of inhaled it to a lesser degree, some may have the pheromone inside and some may not.
Appearance: black eyes, dark hair, pallid skin, black clothing, long and browning nails. Nature: They will often ask under false pretences to enter your home but their pheromone causes most to deny them entry, when done so they will grow aggressive, commenting on their eyes will also make them aggressive. If they are let in they will kill everyone in the home until brought back to a normal state.
Note: Unless Bellamy’s hair shifts from blonde to brown she is not in this state. It is rare I will ever bring out this creature and if I do it’s with the permission of the person I am roleplaying with because obviously her pheromone gives her an unfair advantage.
In every job, you discover some surprising problems you wouldn’t expect from the outside. Here’s some I’ve had in my 2+ years as a letter carrier for the post office.
1) The wildlife. We’re warned about dogs constantly in training, and bees get a couple mentions for those that are allergic, but whatever. I’ve as yet only been bitten once where it wasn’t largely my fault (as in, a dog was barking behind a fence, so I reached my hand over to see if it just wanted to be petted). Much worse are the various bugs out there. I’ve gotten three tick bites since I’ve started here (thankfully all wood ticks, no lyme disease for me unless it turns out I’m a dumbass that doesn’t actually know how to distinguish between wood and deer ticks), stung once each by a bee and a yellowjacket (yellowjackets hurt so much worse), and worst of all, in the summer months I walk into anywhere from 10-20 spiderwebs and spiderstrands each day. Yeah, it may not actually hurt, but it’s fucking gross.
2) The stress. This is the most fast-paced and physically demanding job I’ve ever had by a pretty wide margin, and it has stress levels to match. And EVERYONE is under too much pressure, including the bosses, so they’ll frequently wind up giving you more work for the day than you are physically capable of getting done in time, and will then try to discipline you when you inevitably fail. Added to that, for new employees like myself, it’s a total crapshoot as to how quickly you will progress to becoming a regular, full-time employee, as it’s entirely reliant on the office you’re assigned to. My office is large enough and has a high enough turnover rate that I will likely be made permanent in about another year, so it will have only taken me roughly three years. I just read an account from a guy in another state that finally quit after working for 12 years and never becoming a permanent employee.
3) People answering the door naked/in their underwear. Oh yeah, that whole porn myth is partially true. Unfortunately, the people that tend to do this aren’t sexy coeds trying to make my day better with tits, but are instead 60- and 70-somethings trying to have one last thrill by burning images into my eyes that I can now never unsee.
4) The dirt. I’m fucking filthy by the time I finish the day. Seriously, I can get the sweatiness and the various bits of grime from the mail itself, but I get home and there’s like an oil spill around the shower drain. If I swipe my hands along my neck or forehead or behind my ears or something, there’s so much grit there that you’d think I had just been caught in one of those sandstorms from Interstellar. Or, you know, one of those sandstorms that happens in real life.
5) The chafing. Here’s what winds up happening all summer. It’s fucking hot out, so I sweat a lot (I’m so attractive, I know), so wind up with the area around my crotch all nice and swampy, and then I’ll wind up having to venture into air conditioning, or spend too much time in the truck, or the wind will pick up, or something, and the sweat will dry, leaving the grainy bits of salt on my thighs and scrotum but no moisture, so when I get moving again I have teeny little sharp grains of rocklike material digging into my flesh each time I take a step, so that I wind up duckwalking around by the end of the day as though I was away on vacation and just got railed by a guy with a giant cock. As a result, I have to make liberal use of baby powder and vaseline to try to salvage what few layers of skin I have left down there (this is also a winter thing, by the way, with all the added layers of clothing causing the same problems while simultaneously making it even harder to apply any powder or vaseline to save myself during the shift). So anytime you see your letter carrier disappear into the back of his truck, please don’t walk up and bother him. There’s a good chance he’s not just jacking it to your Victoria’s Secret catalogue.