pagooey.bsky.social
At peace, if still slightly annoyed. Seattle writer/editor, fueled primarily by coffee, lip balm, and ice cream. She/her. I’m mostly here for the cats. And the books. And the feminism. And the X-Files. Bigots can go pound sand.
285 posts
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This novel, set partly in the early 90s publishing world with obvious nods to all that, was one of my favorite reads in recent years: a.co/d/8SktEQX
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Poor little wisp of a thing—thank goodness she had the strength to keep you informed of these shortcomings.
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I do enjoy the little puke who slips, trying to backpedal into the truck, and nearly racks himself on the trailer hitch. If only, amirite?
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Came running to the comments like, I dunno, what if everyone FORGOT to say it??
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Related: that fried egg is NEVER coming out of that pan
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Pop-pop on the aisle there is INTO IT, bless him!
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This has triggered a memory of playing “outer space” with my sister in the back yard. My Grammy literally mixed a couple drops of green food coloring in our lunches, and we were THRILLED by our alien pb&j sandwiches. 😂
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Baseball naps are the best naps, and surprise turnaround wins are the best of those!
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DAD. STAHP!
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Friends had the Mariner Moose at their wedding reception 20+ years ago; they’re still together and just settled their grown daughter into her sophomore-year college apartment.
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I believe the standard sentencing is jale for a thousand years
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I had this sign in my yard for the first round of TFG’s administration, until it disintegrated in a storm. I suppose I need a new one.
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I worked at Waldenbooks in the early 90s and we sold Thomas guides. They were kept in a locked case because they were something like $45 and people were OUTRAGED about it. Many people asked to look at the sample one “just for a minute,” so I was the proto-internet.
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When the little redhead lady really picks up the pace and makes those Shitler Youth start trotting—YES, YESSS, POUR THIS DIRECTLY INTO MY VEINS
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Wiped out in a hotel bathroom somewhere in Montana on a family reunion road trip. It felt like I spun around at least twice on the way down; I definitely tore the entire curtain off the rod. 😬
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I want the fusion cuisine version, with both dumplings and hand pies—basically any filled-dough nugget of the world. Heaven. (I attended a dumpling festival in my city, pre-covid, that mostly fit the bill, and learned that my overall dumpling limit was ~20 before the regret really kicked in.)
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I don’t even know what this will end up being—blanket? garment? —but I want it ❤️
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“Liking” this feels gross and wrong, so I will just say that I’m thinking of you… and aiming a karmic dope-slap at the back of Doogie’s head.
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C’mere and lemme dishevel your socks for ya, buster!
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My mom was born and raised in Seattle, as was I. She moved to Mukilteo in 2002, and has said to me on multiple occasions,”oh, is it real bad here now, like they say?” WHILE SITTING BESIDE ME on the bus, train, or in my personal automobile.
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I am a lousy gardener, so I’m very impressed! And also this temporary setup looks like a weird, ominous Yard Meeting (which is probably more my speed).
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The Barry Levinson clip in that story, where they just sit Williams at the mike and let him run? Holy SHIT, that man was a genius. What a gift, what a loss. I hope he has found peace and relief on the astral plane.
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My mom and aunt, 13 and 16 at the time, saw “Psycho” in the theater, and that night crammed into one of their twin beds together, too freaked out to sleep. Always thought that story was hilarious; slightly appalled now that I’ve done the math on my mom as a damn 7th grader, sheesh!
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It is litter, in a box, ergo… 🧠🍊🎓
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There’s an overarching psychological component to it, too, where even intangibles like “happiness” or “success” are viewed as finite resources that other people have already used up. My elderly mom loathes Trump and co, but is furiously committed to her own suffering and scarcity mindset.
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As a teen in the 80s, I *figure skated* a program to the Prelude section, by choice. 40 years later I’m still impressed by the additional layers of cringe and frenetic insufferability I managed to pile on there. (And I wish Billy every blessing.)
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I love that the adult kitty is much more interested in something Over There than in being captured for all eternity as the treasured family member she plainly is.
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I had two cats, littermates. The boy, Frankie, learned how to open the bathroom door immediately; I had to warn guests. His sister Iris eventually figured it out…aged 10.
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The coffee mug logo! Thanks Sarah, I’m getting a real jump start on Xmas this year.
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I humbly submit for approval the DubSea Fish Sticks, and their mascot Fin Crispy Jr. gofishsticks.com
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My dad fell asleep on the toilet, early in my parents’ marriage; he slumped forward and gave himself a black eye on the edge of the laundry hamper. (But went around telling people that he’d been in a bar fight. A champion bullshitter, my old man.)
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Oh, Claire, BOTH hands 😫
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At the risk of coming across as catty: The richest man in the world who is also the king of the internet and outer space had to make his slaves build him a chat robot to be his friend and they had to reprogram it because the robot did not like him either.
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Popular for weddings! Listen up, bridesmaids, we’re coordinating with the butt-bow dresses.
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No good advice to offer, just sympathy and a fretful nod of recognition. 2025 is a crappy rodeo, innit? I hope Rollie is a comforting presence.
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We had a cat who I think cultivated a scrungly appearance on purpose, so he could double-dip at multiple homes *and* the billing office of the utility company, across the street. He had more personality than a good 50% of humans I’ve ever known.
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The last time I bought a lovely new living room rug, I joked about taking bets on how long before it was christened with cat barf. It took a mere 11 hours.
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You beat me to it! Well done you
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My first apartment was a block from an elementary school. The first time morning recess erupted, it *did* scare the bejesus out of me…but then I figured it out.