His Demesne

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I went up earlier to paint my nails, so I made sure to pay tribute to Batman in his demesne. I guess it wasn’t enough, ’cause he’s current sitting on the back of the couch glaring at me. Sigh. His Royal Furrbutt is never satiated, ha ha.

Past that, nothing really. Sitting on my butt. Making tiny things. Digesting another night of takeaway. The pub I used to go knitting at does burgers now, and the one I had was gorgeous. The chips were terrible and sad, but that’s because I am always going to turn my nose up at store-bought ‘guacamole’. Like, you can cut up a fresh and ripe avocado for my burger, but you dump the cheap tub shite that is only vaguely related to avocado on my chips? Jail mother, jail for 1,000 years.

Right! Gonna go digest, dream of ice cream to come… and make more obnoxiously tiny things.


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