god damn iti got a ham from one of my sister’s

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god damn it

i got a ham from one of my sister’s pigs, paid for it and everything, and said when will we eat this, i know, Christmas! and have had it sitting in the freezer ever since, and I said, Dude, tell your mother we have a ham for Christmas, and he said ok, and we discussed it at length, and I was like, phew, good, we’ll otherwise never cook this damn ham, and he said something about Christmas dinner and I was like she knows we have that ham right and he was like yeah, yeah, and 

just now he’s like “i forgot to tell mom about the ham so she just went out and bought one”

ARGGGHHHHHHHHH

because i am supposedly Cleaning the Spare Room, I have

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because i am supposedly Cleaning the Spare Room, I have actually– well, I did do some cleaning, but I also finished the Found Cat sequel sequel (to the sequel: Now with More Smut!) by accident while I was trying not to, so. I guess that’s how that works. 

It needed less than 100 words and had been basically done for 2 weeks, so, y’know. I guess I need to freak out about cleaning the house more often if I want to Be Productive. 

Mostly, Finn gets a blowjob, and Feels Emotions. (Poe gets a tiny morning-after POV, which I think I actually posted in its entirety on Tumblr already.)

Bonus material: the text conversation between Finn and Kes! 

Not Quite All Of The Sex, on AO3.

Someone tagged me in six selfies and now it has been so long I...

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i don't actually know how to wear lipstick
i silkscreened this mammoth onto this shirt. oh also i hand-dyed that scarf, i forgot about that.
this is the only way not to lose your scissors on long car trips while sewing
fourth of july, i have an umbrella and a hat and still got sun poisoning
torrid's bralettes are the revelation of 2016
yurt cat morning wakeup call
chita chita
it's just such a good "WELP" face and i don't remember why
twf your boobs don't fit in your dress so you have to improvise
chita chita chita chita!
Someone tagged me in six selfies and now it has been so long I forgot who tagged me. Also this is more than six because I decided to look at All My Camera Phone Photos From 2016 and it was perfect because I was kind of in an anxiety/something spiral so instead I laughed at how stupid most of my pictures were, and so this is just as many selfies from that group as I thought were amusing. 

I feel like everyone who actually posts their face has already been tagged in this. Do you want me to tag you? I’d love to tag you, if you wanted to be tagged. 

The other thing I did today, among the excitements and joys of pretty much the last feasible...

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The other thing I did today, among the excitements and joys of pretty much the last feasible shipping day for Christmas orders (woohoo), was the part where I have to tie the last installment of The Lost Kings together with the part where it crosses into Rogue One territory ifyouknowwhatImean. 

“I can’t wait to meet you,” Kes said sleepily, and was rewarded with a kick to the face. Shara laughed, and moved her hand in his hair, petting his scalp.

“I can’t decide if it’s that he likes it when you talk, or hates it when you talk,” she said.

“He loves it,” Kes said, nuzzling his cheek against the bare skin of her distended belly. “Don’t you, Poe?”

“We’re not calling him Poe,” Shara said, stretching lazily and tugging gently on Kes’s short hair.

“Sure we are,” Kes said. “He likes it. Don’t you, Poe?”

This time it was probably an elbow, he figured. “Ow,” Shara said, “don’t antagonize him.”

“Be nice to your mother, Poe,” Kes said.

cienie-isengardu: I was doomed to die in the arena, just like...

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cienie-isengardu:

I was doomed to die in the arena, just like my father had. Just like my mother and everyone I’d ever known. Until the stormtroopers came. Until the Empire made life worth living. The Empire came to Chagar IX and toppled the overlords in a day. They shut down the arenas. The Empire gave my people jobs. They gave us a purpose. They gave us peace.

This is a backstory of sergeant Kreel (know also as an Agent 5241) from Star Wars comics #21 and I’m glad that new canon showed some imperial POV. Not that old EU/Legends never did that, but such stories, especially in older sources, were few and far between. It’s important to know that Empire - as much as it was corrupted and responsible for various crimes - brought to many “less important” planets sort of peace and better life for native people. It’s no wonder that people supported Empire, if Republic never did anything good to them in past. In case of Kreel, he was inspirated by stormtroopers who came to Chagar IX and freed him from awful fate. The same as Hera and Numa were inspirated by Clone Troopers / pilots who came to Ryloth with so badly needed military support during Clone Wars.

I really believe it’s important thing to see in star wars stories all points of view of any conflict, be it Rebellion vs Empire or Republic vs Separatist or New Republic vs First Order and so on. Because galaxy far far away (and its morality) is not just black and white, it’s a spectrum of grey.

boxoftheskyking: boxoftheskyking: Okay get this : Poe Dameron does Drunk History (of the...

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boxoftheskyking:

boxoftheskyking:

Okay get this : Poe Dameron does Drunk History (of the Rebellion)

Realistically this is Poe weeping and saying “he was the *pilot* do you get it??? He was the pilot!!!”

Yeah everybody’s assuming Poe would have Cassian as his idol but here’s the thing, and I’m just going to lay this out here for you: Bodhi Rook would be someone Poe admired very, very much. And i know, Finn would be moved by his story, but Poe would have known his story all along and had it in his heart.
And maybe that’s why the instant a Stormtrooper pulled his helmet off and said, “This is a rescue,” Poe was like !!!!! <3 <3 <3 <3 !!!! because there, in his heart, was Bodhi Rook, who did the right thing even though he was afraid, who did the right thing even though he wasn’t treated well, who did the right thing because it was the right thing and he had to.

Man what was I thinking last night? I posted an excerpt of the next Lost Kings bit and it was not...

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Man what was I thinking last night? I posted an excerpt of the next Lost Kings bit and it was not this excerpt? This is maybe the best character study moment I’ve ever written, I don’t know what my deal is.

Kes laughed. “You’re telling me to get my lazy ass off you and get to work,” he said, rolling over and looking up at her.

“I would never call your ass lazy,” Shara said. “But your shapely ass does have work to go do.”

“Yes ma’am,” he said, pushing himself up and bending to kiss her. She returned the kiss, closing her eyes and leaning in. She’d been grumpy lately, but still pretty affectionate with him, and he was counting himself lucky, remembering how mean Marita had gotten towards the end of her pregnancy.

She sighed and scooted herself toward the edge of the bed a little, but lay back and watched him as he dressed. He laughed at her, and she motioned with her hand, indicating that he should turn around so she could get a better look at him.

“That’s a hell of a nice ass you got, there, kid,” she said.

He laughed. “Thanks,” he said, and pulled his trousers on.

“You should wear tighter pants,” she said.

“I gotta be able to move, woman,” he said. “You know I’m not just decorative.” He pulled on a clean shirt and looked around for some socks.

“Hand me that dress,” Shara said, and he plucked it off the hook on the wall and brought it over, helping pull it down onto her. He kissed her mouth as her face emerged from the neck opening of the garment. “Mm, you’re decorative as far as I’m concerned.”

He laughed at that. “Only for you,” he said, and got down on the floor to put her socks on for her. She put her feet in his lap and reached over to pet his hair.

oh also last night in a weird haze of semi-despair I posted a new smut installment in the Lost Cat..

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oh also last night in a weird haze of semi-despair I posted a new smut installment in the Lost Cat AU thing, and wrote a very weird promo for it over here, so here’s a less addled announcement for the morning crowd. 

Slightly redacted NSFW text excerpt, as a teaser, and I’ve redacted it mostly because it amused me to do so, but mostly because I was so proud of this banter and I think it being in the middle of sex kind of obscures it. (It’s not like you can’t tell what’s going on.)

“Good?” Poe asked.

“Weird,” Finn confessed. It felt like— well, it felt like something was in his butt, and he was used to that going the other direction, and he didn’t know what to make of it.

“Good weird?” Poe asked knowingly.

“Weird weird,” Finn said, and then Poe [redacted], a little more surely, and [redacted], hollowing his cheeks, and Finn said “Good weird,” because the weird had definitely shaded toward a better direction, and Poe kept it up, and Finn said breathlessly, “Good!”

“Good,” Poe purred, mouth full.

And here’s the title excerpt: 

Finn had to dig out his phone and text Rey (he sent her a selfie, which wound up including his face, Poe’s face tucked slightly behind his bare shoulder, and BB happily grooming Poe’s hair). Poe got up to feed the cats, and Rey texted back a bunch of exclamation points.

Finn wrote back not *all* of the sex but *some* of the sex, and she sent him the 100 emoji 100 times.

Not Quite All Of The Sex, on AO3.

Why is this so goddamn ominous I just want to drive my car and...

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Why is this so goddamn ominous I just want to drive my car and get home. Yikes ™. Also, I’ll see your verses and raise you Matthew 6:6, dude.

torrilin: hcconn: torrilin: hcconn: As more and more city people try raising chickens, goats,...

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torrilin:

hcconn:

torrilin:

hcconn:

As more and more city people try raising chickens, goats, geese etc in their backyards, I’m seeing a lot of Facebook posts and craigslist ads trying to “rehome” unwanted farm animals and “rescue” animals that have been lost. These people are genuinely trying to find good “forever homes” for chickens. I mean, really, eat the damn chicken.

(These are non vegetarian/vegans. I’d understand if they were vegan but omg what sort of disconnect do you have if you are putting all of this effort into finding a good home for a “pet chicken” for the rest of its natural life and also buying boneless skinless chicken breast for dinner.)

Not all chickens are meat chickens tho. Yes, all chickens are made of meat, just like humans. But breeds optimized for egg production or feather production are a real thing, and they literally can’t be turned into chicken breasts or a roast past a certain age.

You make elderly laying hens into soup, if you’re gonna eat them. And I can understand a family not wanting to make a beloved laying hen and pet into dinner.

So yeah, I can totally see trying to rehome a pet chicken. I’m not the right home for them, but that doesn’t mean the chicken shouldn’t have a nice home.

That just seems like such a waste of food to me. If I was going to care about a farm type pet living out a long and healthy life I would be a vegan. I can care for my laying chickens and still make chicken soup when the eggs stop. I can’t imagine not just cooking a chicken and instead going through all of the trouble to find a home for it and then going home to eat fried chicken. If I loved that chicken I’m not going to be able to eat chicken without thinking of my former pet, you know?

People have the same reaction to eating dogs and cats “Oh I would never eat dogs, they are pets!” But they are fine eating chicken while having a pet chicken? It seems weird to me.

Dunno, I’m not real into telling people how to feel?

Different people who eat meat have different emotions about the slaughtering process. And the reactions can differ based on the exact animal. You might have 10 years with a laying hen and a really intense relationship. I’m not going to tell you you should kil her when she stops laying. Another hen might be much more fraught, and eating her might be a relief.

i dunno, though, if you’re rehoming a spent hen because she’s not providing for you, how invested are you really in this animal? I feel like that’s kind of.
I dunno. No, non-meat-chickens are no good for roasting or parts, but they’re actually far superior for soup; there’s a brisk market in the laying business for spent hens, because they’re in high demand among gourmets.
But I’ve seen a lot of talk of people being proud of their backyard chicken “no-cull” flocks, and– I mean, that’s cute and all, but you’re feeding that animal until it dies, that’s just how it goes.

They’ve talked about getting horse power on the farm, but for that to really be economical, you have to be willing to put down and possibly eat an animal that can’t work anymore, after it has worked for you for perhaps a decade. We’re not willing to do that– so we don’t have horses. 

They don’t cull the laying flock often, but they do give the spent hens away in trade to someone who they know will eat them. 

It’s sort of a part of using animals. You have to be prepared to handle them when they’re no longer useful. 

sugarspiceandcursewords replied to your post “oh

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sugarspiceandcursewords

replied to your post

“oh also last night in a weird haze of semi-despair I posted a new smut…”

New content for both Lost Kings and Found Cat in one day is, to bastardize a phrase, proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy. <heart eyes>

Aww *blushes*. Well, Lost Kings is only an excerpt so far. I’m nearly there with the next chunk, but. It’s going to be kind of an intense transition and I wrote the hard part but I definitely need to look at it again. And I’m not sure where chapter breaks vs. story breaks are going to go. 

Plus I decided for some reason I needed a chicken processing scene in it just to make the transition more interesting. It’s an idyllic, sepia-toned scene straight out of my happy summertime memories of being super grossed-out and covered in poop. 

(TW agricultural animal death, not particularly graphic but not clean either.)

“How many left?” Tito asked, looking up from the scalding tank. He was holding two chanticlos by the feet in one hand, and had a chrono in the other, timing the scald exactly so the feathers would be loose enough to pull off.

Kes leaned back and glanced out the door at the crates on the trailer. He blew a long breath out through his lips as he counted, and leaned back in, blinking at the relative darkness. “Like twenty,” he said. “We’re mostly there.”

“Twenty,” Tito grumbled, hauling the carcasses out of the hot water and letting them drip a moment.

“Like another hour, tops,” Kes said.

“If the eviscerators can keep up,” Marita said from the plucking table.

“You’re not suggesting that we’re not holding up our end, are you?” Norasol inquired mildly, sticking her head around the corner. She was in the next room with Salah and Karzai.

“I’m not suggesting anything,” Marita retorted.

Kes stuck the knife back to the magnet, and went back for his next victim.

In the last stages of bleeding out, the birds’ bodies would convulse. The last one from the previous batch was doing that now, shuddering and kicking. The other thing they tended to do was loose their bowels, so there was shit everywhere. Mostly, it was confined to the cones, but occasionally death throes would send shit flying through the air, if a bird’s flailing foot caught it. As Kes stepped back into the room, that happened, and he recoiled as a big gob of shit sailed across the room and landed right in the middle of the back of Marita’s neck, just under the knot of the kerchief she had tied over her hair.

Everyone yelled in horror, though Tito was absolutely laughing more than yelling. “Oh no, girl,” Kes said, clutching the bird he’d just retrieved to his chest.

“Fuck,” Marita said, making a truly pathetic disgusted-frown face. Tito made up for laughing by finding a rag and wiping the mess off for her.

“That’s what happens when you talk shit,” Norasol said. There was a reason the eviscerators were around the corner; once the birds were opened, they tried to keep them away from the dirt. Chanticlos were impressively filthy, but so far none had managed to throw any shit around a corner.

“Oho,” Tito said. “See?”

Marita gave Kes a sour frown. “I didn’t even talk shit,” she said mournfully.

“I don’t control the weather,” Kes said, and turned his bird upside-down. It flapped briefly, because he didn’t have the wings held tightly, and he had to kind of cram it into the cone and then stand there holding its head for a moment before it got woozy enough that he could kill it.

“Bird shit isn’t weather,” Marita said, but she went back to work, neatly twisting and pulling the head off the next carcass before flipping it onto its breast to cut the legs off one by one.

“In here, it is,” Tito said.

“Truth,” Kes said.

just wanted to say what a remarkably clear sighted and unhypocritical approach you have to eating me

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It’s kind of funny– the earlier post today came out of my queue and I hadn’t realized it posted today, and then I posted a fic scene that had animal slaughter in it. So today is just Animal Death Day on this blog, I guess. Whoops!

I’ve never been a vegetarian, but I’ve had a lot of friends who were, and I’ve considered it pretty deeply. The sister who owns the farm was, for a while, and for a long time after was a “flexitarian”, and still maintains some of that behavior– she studied nutrition a bit, and so structures her meals in such a way that she doesn’t require a lot of animal protein in them. For years, she would only eat animals that someone she knew had killed, and she still prefers to do that. It helps that she raises animals herself. (They mostly eat their own chicken and pork, beef they’ve traded for, and venison that was hunted on their land. A lot of that is thrift, of course; you don’t make a ton of cash at farming. But she’s chosen this lifestyle, and that’s part of it.)

Part of the farm’s choice to raise animals is economic necessity. Their land isn’t that great for vegetables. They couldn’t compete with some of the other local organic farms; my sister’s former boss has a great site on river bottom land and can grow anything he wants because the soil is so good, even in a rough year like this past one. Their farm, the soil is poor and rocky, and they can work with it but it will never be great. So, animals it is, and vegetables by subscription because they can make up in variety and reliability what they lack in quantity. 

Animals are, or can be, a really valuable and efficient source of nutrients. But it’s expensive and difficult to raise them humanely. Animal cruelty laws in the US don’t apply to agriculture. Any standards that do exist, are voluntary certifications adopted by producers. 

But there’s tremendous demand for it. Customers love that they can come to the farm and walk up the hill and look at the animals they’re going to eat. Some of the other workers on slaughter day are customers, who want to really know (and also know they can get paid in chickens and feet and hearts and such). And I’m really glad to be a part of that. It’s something to be proud of, to know that I can account for every moment of this animal’s death. If I’m going to derive my nutrition that way, I should be willing to witness it like that. 

I hope that this kind of agriculture continues to grow in popularity, and I really hope it can get more accessible. At the moment, it’s just so expensive. 

And the supply chain isn’t there. For now, they buy day-old chicks from a commercial hatchery that does not have humane standards for its breeding flocks. A long-term plan is their own breeding flock, but they’d have to change what kind of chickens they use, and they’d be slower growers most likely, which means more expensive. It’s all a balancing act.

I think it’s important to think about where your food comes from– animals, for their own sake but also the sake of their workers (many slaughterhouses employ illegal immigrants, for example), but also vegetables, for their workers’ sake. Vegetable farming is overwhelmingly done by migrant workers and it is brutal work; I know that firsthand as well. (A local catchphrase in the farming community is “works like a Jamaican”, as in, someone who doesn’t take days off. The local migrant workers are all either Mexican or Jamaican, and I attended a gala dinner for a farmland trust earlier this summer that was held in a field next to a melon farm, and as the sun went down and the band started playing, there was a work gang of Mexicans still hard at work in the field next to us. They’re paid hourly, and they’re going to work as many hours as they can while they’re here, that’s how it goes. I stood there with my cocktail in my hand and watched them loading tote after tote until it was too dark to see.)

We’re all prisoners of the market; we can’t buy food that isn’t available to us. But I think there’s a general movement to pay more attention to our food, and I’m excited about it. It just feels really good to have that kind of ownership of your food source, you know? 

And the more demand there is, the more that market can grow, the more small growers can thrive. It’s not really possible to produce that kind of food on a large scale, but the more small producers there are, as well, the more of the profit stays in the community. It’s a much more top-to-bottom sustainable kind of economy than what we have.