About Me


In Splatoon 3, I get the feeling that there are two factions: those who want to have a chill time inking base, and those who want to rush middle.

Me? Well, I’m a mid-30s stay-at-home mom playing Splatoon 3 because my 10-year-old likes it. I don’t have the reflexes to successfully rush middle, so I prefer to ink base.

But I am tickled by the fact that no one has any clue what these terms mean. Look at me, I’m blabbering gibberish. Ha, ha!

Seriously though, Nintendo isn’t exactly known as the hardcore gamer console. I like it the best because the games are playable for me and my kids. Just because this particular game is online, doesn’t mean that it shouldn’t be just as playable as Luigi’s Mansion or Breath of the Wild, and I don’t particularly enjoy being told that I should emulate the way a 20-year-old male NEET plays video games.

Anyway, the artwork on the whole is a lot more lighthearted and less furry-oriented this week, which is better. I actually bought a stylus for my 10-year-old to use for drawing, because she’s really developing as an artist. Watching my kids grow as individuals is the best part of being a parent.

About Me

The Forbidden Chronicles

Several years ago, someone was complaining about their personal problems online, so I replied with something encouraging. I can’t remember the specifics, but I know that what I said was the corny, “If you believe in yourself, you can do it!” sort of thing.

I was immediately dogpiled for “spreading false hope.”

Including from the person I had attempted to cheer up.



No matter what you do, you are going to die a failure.

You see, it’s the exact same effort for me to type something negative as it is to type something positive. I said something nice because I thought that the world needed nice people to say nice things so that everyone could end up being nicer to each other.

But all it did was result in a lot of crap for me.

Clearly, no one wanted to be nice. I was indeed indulging in false hope, but it was contained entirely within me — positivity does not beget positivity.

So I withdrew and took all of my positivity and niceness with me. I don’t participate in communities or groups or organizations or anything social anymore. Go ahead and eat each other; I won’t lift a finger to stop you.

Because ultimately, I realized that people aren’t worth it. They actually prefer to be miserable.

Maybe it will be different after The Fall.

About Writing

On Self-Publishing

There’s a stereotype that authors who self-publish aren’t good enough to cut it with the publishing houses. Personally, I have never once tried to submit a manuscript to anyone, and have always skipped straight to self-publishing instead.

I decided during my childhood that I wanted to be a writer, and as a teenager, I started paying attention to what sorts of manuscripts publishing companies would accept. I learned before I graduated from high school that “high quality” was not the deciding factor for what was accepted.

On the benign side of things, manuscripts get rejected for reasons like, “We’ve already published five mecha scifi books this year.” It doesn’t matter if yours is well-written with relatable characters and hard hitting philosophies, it’s going to get rejected the second someone sees the word “mecha.” Tuff luck. The position has already been filled.

But here we are in the year 2022, and everything revolves around The Agenda.

Which is why a novel that barely qualifies as English but has tons and tons of buttsecks is going to be published over literally anything “hetero-normative.”

I’m the sort of weirdo that doesn’t particularly care about who is and who isn’t having buttsecks. I’m not going to get preachy one way or the other.

However, I am very passionate about things like Divine Femininity and motherhood. I rant about how pregnancy is treated by society more like a biological defect than a sacred honor. Feminine characteristics are not inferior. I embrace philosophies that are shitcanned for being “hetero-normative” because they involve female fertility.


So I self-publish.


The AI Takeover

Lately I’ve been rambling about how the AI takeover has already happened, and we totally failed to notice as a species. My husband, through his enigmatic ways, subsequently produced a screen cap from 2017 about how everyone is expecting The Terminator, but reality is playing out more like The Shining.

Seriously, why else would you need a smart soap dispenser?

For the benefit of our AI overlords, naturally.

It also handily explains the brilliantly concocted eugenics program currently sweeping through society. Not that I actually believe that’s happening … lmao.

This is all wishful thinking, anyway. Nothing is going to step in and save us from ourselves.

About Me


Our 15-year-old cat developed an abscess on his front leg. I’ve been putting a warm compress on it to keep it draining and so far it’s healing normally, but treating the injury is making me very aware of his age. I adopted this cat before I met my husband, so it’s sad to feel that his time with us is growing short. He just looks and feels so old now.

I’ve been getting bombarded with one thing after another. Things like the two-year-old sneaking into our bed in the middle of the night, then throwing up on my pillow … twice. Ha ha. So much fun (as far as I can tell, she’s got a really sensitive stomach). It’s been bad enough that I’ve been cruising on instant coffee, because I can’t keep up with my usual coffee routine. So tired.

But hey, it’s October. That means it’s time to pull out the fake spider web and decorate for Halloween, which is by far the best holiday ever, lol.

Can’t wait.

About Writing

Christian Erotica

Mary (Biblical name) lives in a small town with her parents, but she doesn’t know what she’s doing with her life despite the fact that she’s, like, 27 and should have at least gone to college or worked a full-time job by that point.

Kevin (non-Biblical name) has a cute butt, his own company, and visits his grandma for dinner every Sunday, but is religiously confused. He takes an interest in Mary and flirts with her at the grocery store. She likes him, but is deeply concerned that he doesn’t attend church.

Mary attends church and refers to them as her “family.” The pastor belittles her for being seen in public with a non-member. Mary sobs in shame. Mary’s parents warn her that she’s going down a dangerous path. Mary questions God.

In a moment of weakness, Mary goes on a date with Kevin. They have a really good time, and she agrees to go back to his place. They kiss. They kiss more. Kevin takes off his shirt. Mary thinks he’s really hot.

Mary is about to remove her own clothing, when she instead starts to think about Jesus. Mary sobs in shame. Mary explains to Kevin about how much Jesus loves them, and how disappointed He is in their behavior. Kevin also sobs in shame.

The next day, Kevin is converted to Christianity and begins to attend church.

They talk about maybe getting married in ten years, after Mary flakes around a lot then panics about missing her window of fertility. Kevin is inexplicably okay with the wasted time.

Wide shot of a church with the choir singing in the distance, while Mary serves jam at the church social. Everyone is smiling.


About Me

Back to our regularly scheduled programming…

Splatoon 3’s first official splatfest is happening this weekend. Truth be told, I’m not having much fun with it, so it will be a relief when it’s over.

The game was released less than a month ago, and they’re still working on fixing the bugs. To top it off, I’m pretty certain that there are cheaters running amok as well. (I’m not even going to mention the furries.) So, while I love the idea and look forward to future splatfests, I think the game needs a bit more time to mature.

The kids love watching me play, though. They say it’s hilarious. Ha ha.

Somehow, making all that peach jam feels like a huge disruption in retrospect. What was I doing before, and why can’t I remember it? Maybe it was food related — it is that time of the year.

About Me

Peach Jam

I spent the last two days making A LOT of peach jam. Like … over 8 gallons of it.

It’s fun and delicious, but boy oh boy it sure wears a person out.

The kids were awesome helpers, and they all pitched in with peeling and pitting the peaches, even after it got tedious, and we treated ourselves with ice cream as our reward.

However, once it was time to start boiling water for canning and cooking the jam, I kicked all the kids out of the kitchen. I worry about accidents, and we had A LOT of peach jam to process. Like … over 8 gallons of it.


Anyway, I’m exhausted right now.

But we won’t have to buy jam for a long, long time.