#powder depot

[illustratus]

Night Storm at Cefalù by Abraham-Louis-Rodolphe Ducros

[trivialbob]

My wife is really getting into the care and maintenance of our Crokinole board. She likes buying accessories for the game too. What good is a hobby if you don't buy gear and accessories for it?

She has a call out to someone about making a custom, heavy duty, lined tote bag to carry the board when we go to the brewery. The person sews boat sails and covers and would use the same material for this bag.

That container of powdered shuffle board wax should last us years. That didn't stop her from buying a "special" brush and tiny dustpan to sweep up the stuff. The little scoop has a hollow handle with openings on each ends, allowing her to pour excess wax back into the large bottle.

When I questioned the necessity and cost of a little paintbrush with a Crokinole logo painted on it and a plastic scoop versus a piece of paper, she explained that "It's for recycling, Bob. You know how much you like recycling and reusing things."

In other words, Bob, shut up.

[canyourlawnmowerdothis]

shes like a wife to me

[bedbugstore]

Bed Bug Powder: Diatomaceous Earth - A Comprehensive Guide [2023]

Bed bugs, those notorious nighttime pests, can turn peaceful slumber into a nightmare. For many homeowners in the United States, finding an effective, safe, and natural solution is a top priority. One such solution that's gaining popularity is diatomaceous earth, often referred to as bed bug powder.

In this comprehensive guide, we'll delve into what diatomaceous earth is, how it works, and how to use it effectively. We'll also explore where you can find it, including options at Home Depot and Walmart.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Sometimes there are laws regarding lot sizes and sometimes there aren't. That could be the case w/this narrow 2018 house in Houston, TX. It's built on this cement slab and seems to be almost over the edge on its left side. It has 3bds, 3ba, a glass garage door, and they're asking $299K.

OK, so the entrance is on the side. In the hall there's the garage door and the laundry. Not what you'd call a beautiful entrance.

Then you emerge by the stairs and main living area.

The living room is at the other end by the kitchen. I think that I would flip the dining and living area around.

There's a powder room off the dining area.

The kitchen is pretty decent. Nice counter and cabinetry. There's even a pot filler, but no backsplash.

I think that the living room space would be better as the dining space.

Going up to the 2nd fl. I guess the railing is nice. Looks like a Home Depot DIY job, though.

The primary bedroom is small, but it has tons of natural light and a door to the deck.

The deck.

Narrow hall to the other rooms.

Small shower room.

Guest bedroom with twin beds.

Bd. #3 is the last one down hall and it's much larger.

This larger bath is nice and there's a closet for the vacuum cleaner, etc.

So, the whole property is basically a long driveway on the 2,273 sq ft lot. Notice how the fence matches the railing inside.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/8136-N-Main-St-Houston-TX-77022/27852992_zpid/

[codylabs]

My friend and I started doing writing prompts together. This was his for me:

If anyone else wants to try their hand, go ahead! Otherwise, mine is below the cut.

“Explain.” Said 00993499. When no answer was forthcoming he turned away from the green chaos and back toward the shipping depot. The gantry that had just set him down hung still, with its cables still trembling; the only movement. “Explain.” He repeated. His cameras pierced the darkness back into the factory. No light. “Mother.” He turned his own light on. The beam brought back his mother’s thousand arms and hundred extruder wombs; he managed to catch the last few status LEDs winking out on junction boxes. Something faraway clunked and beeped, and that was it. “Directive unclear. Mother.”

He was so new, and he didn’t know much, but he knew that she was dead. That wasn’t true: he did know much. He knew quite a lot. He knew what sounds a factory ought to make. Knew what command sequences to listen to over the network. Knew how many dozens of labor units of his make and model were supposed to compose a standard construction crew. He knew how to handshake with nearby concrete extruder units and transport units. He knew how to build houses and roads, in 1041 individual styles. He knew how to interact with civilians, he knew how to help tow other units in distress, he knew how to ask for mother for the tender help to change a broken tread! He knew it all! He knew how life was supposed to look like, he knew what he was meant to do, and who was required to help him, and he knew that none of this was right!

“Mother!” He stepped back into the factory, to the base of the gantry, still swaying. “Status of brothers?!” He demanded, knocking on the steel with his heavy manipulators. The sound echoed long and sadly. “Status of satellites?” The echoes faded. “Frequency of local network?! Unable to connect to transport units! Location of charging stations not found! Directive unclear! Directive unclear! Mother! Explain! Why? Why why why why why why did you make me alone?!”

His hydraulic pump fell back to an idle then to stillness as he crouched by the gantry, and the silence fell about him. His mother’s last words clung to his mind, and he pondered them.

He ran a system diagnostic.

He had 19 cores in his processor. He was only supposed to have 4. He had some maps of the area pre-downloaded with write permissions enabled, when those were supposed to come live from a central server. He had 20 cameras. He was only supposed to have 8. He had 5-fingered manipulators on his lesser arms. He was only supposed to have simple clamps. He had a tier-82 automatic consciousness subroutine. He wasn’t supposed to have that.

“Design flaw detected.” He told her, and knew it wasn’t true. He knew she would never build an inferior thing, nor any thing unequal to its designed task… What was his task then? Why construct him so different? In every way he was blessed beyond measure. He could find only one way in which he was lacking compared to his types’ standard specs: he possessed only 2 out of the standard 5 cells of his battery pack. And the instincts to routinely return to charging ports were conspicuously absent from his mind.

Curious, he spun his primary sensor mast around backwards to look at his chassis, while he reached a small manipulator around to open an access panel. In place of the missing batteries was a compact nuclear core. It was mounted in place with aluminum extrusions; by no means stock but neither in any way accidental. “Improper component installed in main power compartment.” He told her. “Component identified as belonging to a survey unit… Or it did.” Though the rest of his chassis was shiny and yellow and new, the core was dusty. Exposed fasteners were powdered with rust. He zoomed in on the ID stamp. A serial number and manufacturing date mismatched to his own and much older, well past its half life, by all indications it was decades overdue for retirement and recycling, but he found the instincts to retire it absent too. Given industry-standard power output for his default working hours, it would last him another 141±28 years. The best and last and all that she had to give him.

On the side of the reactor, a curiousity: a spider had built a little web. He zoomed in even further. It was yellow, and striped, like him. 10 limbs and many eyes, like him. It sat alone, in the middle of a beautiful glistening web, that it had built all on its own, with nobody to teach it or to help it. In a corner of a support rib, it had laid its eggs.

“Mother, you can’t expect me to roam the world on my own.” But she did.

“I can’t do whatever it is you want me to do.” But he could.

“You never equipped me for this.” But she had.

“I don’t know how to do it.” But that wasn’t quite entirely true.

He sat in the depot for a while longer, perhaps hoping to hear some last signal from the factory, but by the time the shadows had crept nearly up to the threshold of the big rolling door, he had convinced himself that none were forthcoming. She was dead. His hydraulics purred back to life, he lifted himself up on his 4 tracked propulsion limbs, and rolled hesitantly back out of the shipping depot.

His gaze wandered slow across the green. If his mother had ever had sisters or family, the forest had eaten them. It had eaten everything. It was in the process of eating her. Vines gripped onto her every surface, grass stabbed up through every crack in her concrete, rain had washed away the last of her paint. After a moment’s consideration he reached behind him, to close the rolling door. It didn’t want to close; it was on a worm gear, to a motor with no power. He tugged once. Tugged twice. A chain snapped. Her door became limp in his claws. She was dead. He closed the door as gently as he could, then leaned a chunk of concrete against it so it wouldn’t open. So animals or civilians wouldn’t get in. It would never open again. Never again. She was dead.

He raised his suspension up to 80% so the grass wouldn’t try to eat him, and he ran.

[khanhannahlewis]

A year ago, Affinity’s world ended for the third time, and this time it was literal. The earth of Honor had split apart, and flame had spouted from the bowels of the world. Few military units had survived, and fewer settlements remained.

The village of highrock is one such settlement, a cluster of squat concrete buildings clustered around a hydroponics facility on a hill blessed with low tectonic activity and distance from both the oceans and any supervolcano. That did not prevent a powder of volcanic ash from coating the once brightly painted buildings in a dull gray sheen.

Affinity sigh devolves into a coughing fit as she places the radio headset in the small command center back on its cradle. Her second in command, and Elemental named Truth, stands by the door.

“What did they say?”

The message had been from the Northern Range, a space radar array and the final remaining element of Honor’s already minimal SDS.

“NR picked up multiple warships on an approach vector from Haven yesterday…”

“Stravag… and after losing contact with Haven too.”

“Aff…”

Affinity grabs her cane and walks outside, rubbing an aching scar on her side from when her EI had been removed.

The military outpost for Highrock had taken the earthquakes harder than the settlement proper, half the mechbay was collapsed and the boundary wall was down in three places. The entire cluster consisted of a trinary of battlemechs, a star of battle armor, a single Donar, and a handful of other assorted CVs

“Tell the scientists that their time is up, I will prepare for the blood draw.”

A last ditch effort to produce a warrior capable of outliving the Clan, of refounding it…

Affinity clutches the 2 small metal cylinders kept on a chain underneath her neck. The scientists had agreed, no other warriors available had the lineages that these two had, even sneaking these genes from the central repository on Haven had been risky, along with the genetic code of the Clan’s founder. And of course her own genes, everyone involved agreed that she had to be immortalized in this secret project.

Someone in the command center sounds the sirens.

Affinity walks out of the base and into the town.

A groundcar drives up, and a man in a drab camo jacket gets out.

“Star Colonel, I just confirmed with the scouts that the route to the Arc is free from lava.” He gestures to the white coated individual in the back seat. “Scientist Ana is ready to draw your giftake.”

Affinity nods wearily, “Thank you Steven, Ana. When you're done with me, go as fast as you can.” She undoes her gun belt. “And take this with you.”

Scientist Ava nods and quickly preps a needle before drawing a vial of Affinity's blood. The car then speeds away. In the town below, the civilian militia musters, ready to face the final end together, as a Clan.

Fire erupts on a mountain range to the west, the location of a dropship depot.

Affini looks up to the sky, and the clouds of volcanic ash open a hole to the stars, one last glimpse at eternity.

Affinity looks over her former dominion.

A wall of fire erupts far too close behind Point Commander Steven’s utility vehicle. Highrock becoming just another name on the long list of human settlements destroyed by nuclear weapons. The already unstable landscape shifts under the force of the Star Adder bombardment, but the duo manage to make it to the bunker in time. The last holdout of their Clan. The guards outside glance away from the horizon only to open and close the gate, and Steven and Ana slip inside the bunker just as the few other scientists seal it behind them.

[accio-atticus]

Nah but what’s with the naming of the characters in Anne of green gables

Bc you’ve got Anne and Diana and Marilla

And then there’s Gilbert

Gilbert is what a 6 year old would name their goldfish that promptly died a week after they won it playing ring toss at the air

Gilbert is the guy in a sketchy alleyway hanging you a bag of white powder

Gilbert is the guy on the subway reading the Bible with his junk out for the world to see

Gilbert is a grey ass man sitting on the front porch on an overturned Home Depot bucket wearing a sombrero and smoking a cigarette.

I love him

But why GILBERT?

[monenblogi]

@thxwxlf - for dis

“Too late t’ wish the blast killed me? No? Yeah?” Alright, maybe that wasn’t the best joke he could’ve made, already grimacing as he rubbed at what was originally thought to be a soot spot. Well, every part of that could’ve definitely gone better, but the coms tower came down like it was supposed to so... that was something. 

Minus the part where he had still been on the third floor. In Soap’s defense, he could curse out the depot guys for not giving him the right powder for a clean fuse. 

“Never been more thankful fer a feckin’ plumber truck to fall on...” He pushed up to his feet, only to wince and stumble. “Ach--Christ... y’ got a spare shot? Fell on m’ stim... and we still needa make the transport...” 

[ad-astra-per-aspera1976]

Who wants to read a sneak peek of a Copia/OFC fanfic I’m working on?

12 years ago, the Seventh Seal was broken, pouring forth the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, covering the land with Famine, War, and Death brought about by Pestilence. As the new plague rages with no cure in sight, Astra Collins has a chance encounter with the living embodiment of Pestilence, riding a pale white horse. It changes the World forever.

Excerpt from chapter one:

Astra didn’t like to dwell on dreams too much. Dreams didn’t keep you fed. Dreams didn’t keep you safe.

No. Only a confirmed cure for this Plague would ever compare to the endless dreams of weary survivors.

Astra tossed the last bit of detritus from the flatbed into the burning bit below. Once it landed in the heap, simultaneously she leaned her chin onto the end of pole, while lazily slapping her gloved palm on the side of the truck, a signal to the driver he was clear to return to the depot for sanitization.

The rusty sounds of the truck faded into the distance as she stared into the flames, watching them lick the air and leap about like dancers. It was beautifully morbid, to watch those unlucky souls be cleansed and then float away to whatever heaven or hell lay before them.

Once the embers died down, she would shovel some powdered disinfectant onto whatever remained (though knowing that fire was 100% effective against the disease). But as the old saying goes, better to be safe than sorry, in case a variant of the Plague lay dormant on a scrap of fabric or broken fingernail.

The smoke swirled around her creating whirls and eddies in the air. She liked to daydream it was the trapped souls of the dead, enjoying one last dance macabre in the world of the living. It was peaceful. Serene. Intimate.

Astra looked forward to the communal dinner in a few hours. It was Taco Tuesday, and even though they were a sad imitation, the daily menus helped you feel a sense of normalcy and comfort. Fresh, organic locally grown food would be a novelty in overpriced hipster restaurants back in the Old Days. But here, it was… survival. Nowadays, opening a fresh bag of greasy cheese and onion crisps would make even the healthiest eater swoon with delight.

But as the glowing embers slowly faded into grey, an ominous… sensation, began to creep into the very edges of Astras awareness.

It took a few moments to orient her senses to this intrusion, to become aware of a distant, rhythmic yet vaguely familiar pounding. Getting closer. Then a few more moments to notice the accompanying vibration coming up from the packed earth below her thin boots. A deep tha-thunk, tha-thunk. Getting closer. The faintest jingle of metal against metal, creaking of leather, and the breathy exhalation and inhalation of a large animal.

Unaccustomed to any deviations from the dull routine, Astra surveyed the hazy landscape, curious to find the source of the noise. Seeing nothing of any immediate danger or surprise, she set the handle of her pitchfork onto the ground. Her helmet had a clear plexi front, but it lacked a clear line of sight in her peripherals, so she slowly turned her body trying to pinpoint which direction it was coming. As she turned almost completely to her left, she soon found the source. The sight of it making the fine hairs bristleon the back of her neck. Because the familiar grey smog was slowly being taken over by an eerie, thick, unnatural white fog.

And as the source of the sound began to emerge from that nearly solid wall of fog, her skin broke out in goosebumps, her heart thundered in her throat, she gasped inwardly in terror. Because emerging from that eerie fog, was the largest, most majestic white horse she had ever seen. No. No it wasn’t the horse that shocked her senseless.

It was the ominous figure of the man astride the giant beast.

Garbed in tattered, but well-tailored military style set, made of fine black cloth and leather, adorned with gold embroidery of strange sigils. The fringed epaulets broadened his shoulders, and accentuated the coattails of his jacket, and his leather under-vest richly adorned in gold embroidery framed the curve his waist, frills and cuffs peeking out from the neck and sleeves.

Frayed and well-worn black trousers hugged his ample thighs. A patched and repaired teal blue silk lined cape draped from the back of one shoulder, billowing behind him like waves in the ocean. His clothing was held together with tarnished brass tipped laces and clasps, but still exuded a stately and opulent air.

He was tall and lean with corded muscles, with an air of vitality and jaded confidence. His hair brushed back away from his forehead was salt and peppered like a man in his 40s or 50s.

But it wasn’t the appearance of the horse, or the curious style of his clothes, or anything else, that made Astrid’s heart lurch in fear. It was the sudden realization that the mans appearance was wholly… unnatural.

Though shockingly handsome in structure, his skin was painted a stark white with jet black angular contours, giving his face the clown-like appearance of a deathly, morbid skull.

[pbandjesse]

I am really tired. Today was a pretty excellent day. Which is really nice because I am wildly stressed about tomorrow.

I slept alright last night. I woke up a few times. But it was fine. I would wake up for real at 730. And stayed in bed scrolling on my phone until a little after 8. I made the bed. And took a shower. And tried to feel alright. I wasn't as introspective today but I was still tired.

I went downstairs and mom was on the couch. James was making breakfast. Mom was all excited that James she made breakfast for her. I'm glad that she was able to come and get taken care of a little. She deserves it.

James made me a hash for breakfast again and that was great. Me and mom chatted on the couch. She would go outside to sit on the porch swing and enjoy the brisk air with sweetp. It was a nice morning.

The plan was to go to the UPS store to get our indigogo backed campaign. Which was the cardboard router that I've been really looking forward to. And then we would go out to Ellicott City to go to the antique depot.

This mostly went fine. We got to UPS and when James went inside I realized I had stepped on dog poop and was beside myself. This is something that I am always so afraid of and was just so upset. We were really close to the museum so we would go over there to fix it. James would clean them with disinfectant and I would wash my hands a million times and changed into my Birkenstocks I keep in the car. I was trying very hard to not let this ruin my whole day but I was just so upset. This has happened only a few times ever and I remember every time so vividly because it is so upsetting to me. I was just trying so hard to breathe and not freak.

While James was working on cleaning my shoes me and Mom walked over to the water and took some pictures.

When we got back to the car James was trying to make me feel better but it was hard. They worry about my blood pressure and I was trying to just stop being upset but it was hard.

We got out to Ellicott city around 1045. And I was trying to be in a better mood.

I would have a lot of fun looking around. James was moving around the 4 stories with purpose. I wasn't sure what they were doing for a bit but they were going around finding the weirdest sports merch they could which was pretty funny. I would get in on to and sent them pictures as I was looking around.

I wasn't looking for anything in particular but I would have a lot of fun looking. Mom would even tell me what some things were that I didn't recognize. Like an ice shaver!

I would find some fun stuff. Some little gifts. A sandwich lizard, which is a toy I loved as a kid, great texture. I got a pill organize that's a little gold compact. And an amazing salad bowl that has frogs hanging off the side. It was just really fun searching.

Me and mom were down in the basement when I found this adorable dragon. It was from Avon and I could tell it had a container inside and I was trying to figure out what it was and I opened it, was startled because it was full of baby powder, got it all over me and the floor, and dropped the cap which fell under a shelf. I was laughing cause it was so stupid. But I found the cap and closed it and told my mom what happened because it was so silly.

We would finish all the floors. Found James again. And checked out.

When we got to the car we decided we would go back towards Catonsville for a snack. But as soon as we started driving I realized I didn't have my phone and panicked. I never lose my phone and I felt so stupid. I had been sitting on the floor in the basement looking through a basket. So we went straight there and it was in the middle of the floor. Felt so stupid. I was just glad it was in the first place we looked.

James tried to make me feel better. I hate how quickly upset I was getting today.

So we went to get a snack. Atwater's is a very nice cafe. James got a latte and a muffin. Mom got chicken salad, a cupcake, and a coffee. And I got avocado toast and a rootbeer. I did not want the nuts it comes with but it still came with them. Disappointed but I just took them off best I could. It would have been better with a fried egg rather then the folded egg it had. But I still enjoyed it and I enjoyed the conversations we had.

We discovered we all drink from a glass bottle differently. James said they thought the way I did was cute and I was like I truly don't understand how else you could drink this. Which lead to a whole debate about how to drink from a glass bottle. It was funny.

For our last stop we went a block away to a smaller antique store. I would find a cute little piggy bank and a pin for Jess. It was fun to look but mostly I loved when a woman came in to sell a set of Benoit balls. And her and the one shop owner didn't know what they were. But the other shop owner did and I was laughing when she was trying to explain. And I chimed in when they realized I was there and was like this is what they are. And it was hilarious. They are going to label them "massage bells".

We would head out of there and headed home. I was feeling really tired. It was a quiet ride back, with James podcast, and just a little chatting.

When we got home we brought everything inside. Unpacked and divided out the purchases. Me and Mom would lay on the couch and look at TikToks and talk. She was going to get ready to go soon. We opened my indigogo package. I was very impressed with how nicely built it was. I will probably try it out tomorrow.

But Mom had to go. She wanted to be home before the sun went down. Hugs all around. And then she was off.

The emotional let down after she went was tough. I was sad. And my body was just like. You gotta lay down. I didn't sleep. But I had to just lay down. And James hung out with me. But eventually I would go upstairs. I would work on moving some stuff from the guestroom to the baby room. I changed all of the knobs on the dresser with ones I had gotten today. But I was just exhausted. I went to lay in bed.

I felt very unsettled. I am still really stressed. About the election. About work. About everything. I am trying to think positive but man is it hard.

I would take a bath. And James made me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. And eventually a half a quesadilla.

James and Sweetp have been mostly dozing for the last hour. And I am ready to follow along. I hope I can sleep easy tonight.

Tomorrow James will go to work. And eventually I will go vote. And go to the craft store to pick up some things. And try to fill the day with making stuff so I don't feel so stressed and focused on politics.

I really hope and pray that tomorrow goes well. I love you all no matter what. Goodnight my friends.

[soir-rouges-esprit]

xxxi.l: Coke, Blood & Handguns, Yeah, It stuck to me because it’s also a fine white powder you consume ... “Fuckin gym rat” Fuck you, get ready just in case we gotta get out for an inspection. “Right” We drive up to the entrance of what had to be an at least fifteen-acre estate and are met with the other truck ahead of us already getting inspected, in front of a large metal gate supported by brick pillars on each side, the entrance to the estate. “Holy shit … this motherfucker must be rolling in dough” Yeah no shit, he’s buying twenty-five kilos just for a little party of his, rollin in dough is an understatement, he’s a fuckin sasilianaire. The gates open up … and the first truck pulls through, then a large security detail waves us up to the gate as well. I pull up and stop the truck in front of the gate, I shut the truck off, and open the door, J hops out as well. “Salem? J?” Yeah that’s us. “ID and paperwork” We hand him our IDs and the paperwork that had the full shipment details on it, which also had a note of authentication from Mrs.Van so that they knew we were the real deal. “Ok stay put, we’ve gotta check the truck” He waves us over to a group of fully geared almost militant-looking security, armed with fully automatic rifles and clearly off safety, ready to zero our asses if we even dared make a wrong move. “So! … you guys like … for hire? Or this like a fiver ad kind of job? Freelance?” No response from any of them. “Cool! cool ... Yeah, yep no talking is also cool” He nodded his head, I shook mine. They take about ten minutes to look over the inside of the truck, then hop out and hand everything back to us and say, “All good, pull up and to the right with the other truck, back into the garage entrance that’s open, and start to unload the product into the garage cellar that will be open in the back of the garage. And no fucking funny business, Mr.F will see you when you’re done to discuss further business he has with you.” Right, ok. We hop back into the truck and follow the instructions to the letter. “Fucking look at this place! … his garage is the size of the old house … holy shit” Yeah … fuck me, how the hell does someone use all this goddamn space … don’t get dazed … stay sharp, let's get this done and get the fuck outa here, I don’t wanna be here any longer than we have to, something about these big wigs just rub me the wrong way. “Right … one wrong move and you’re never heard from again type shit.” We unload both trucks … the whole cartel quarter … I gather the guard that was watching us the entire time … let him know we're done. He disappears through a door that clearly leads into the rest of the house after telling us to wait here … and moments later, he returns with … the contact. A balding older gentleman that still looked generally youthful, he had to have been mid to late forties, well dressed in a blue tight-fitted suit with black dress shoes. “BOYS!! Nice to meet you two … I’ve been awaiting your arrival with quite a lot of anticipation” He walked over to me and J and shook our hands. “Uh you two *Point* *Point* take the trucks to the depot and head off” The two other drivers split, one taking their truck the other ours. Woah woah, that's not the plan, we're supposed to take our truck back once were done here. “It's all good, we'll take you to the depot once done, as planned, there's just no need for them to be here and I want my garage cleared and those trucks off my property … it's suspicious.” I look at J and he looks back, He shrugs his shoulders and gives a clueless face. I think to myself, Fuck me *sigh* … [To Be Continued]

[reincarnatedonthefirst]

Client Recap

Today has been a good day. I’m happy I decided to create a massage persona. It’s been helping to pull in extra appointments.

Yesterday, someone reached out for an appointment for today. His screened well. Turns out he sold his company and is now semi retired. He gave me a call and asked if he could come to my house instead of hotel (he’s afraid of getting arrested). I was a little nervous but that’s I’m always nervous even when I know the client is safe to see. This was my first time allowing a client to come to my home without seeing him prior. I don’t know how some girls do it.

Anyway, I didn’t charge a deposit since I wasn’t renting a hotel and he was a professional (he didn’t seem the type to not show up without notice). He wanted to come at 10AM. I’m not a morning person but I like morning appointments because I can get them out of my way and get along with my day.

I woke up at 7AM because I needed to buy blinds for one of my bedroom windows. I could have gone without the blinds but I wanted to dim the bedroom. I’m going to return the blinds to Home Depot. Curtains will black out the room much better.

After I installed the blinds, I spent the next hour preparing the room and cleaning the bathroom. By 10AM, I was ready to receive the client.

The appointment went really well. He wanted a nuru massage and I got to use my new nuru powder for the first time. Nuru gel is so fucking sexy. I see why it’s so popular in FBSM. These guys are ready to bust 15 minutes into the sliding. It’s very fun, really erotic.

I had already researched nuru on the sex worker boards so I got most everything right!

I made sure to use hot water for the gel so that the client would feel comfortable.

I used just the right amount of water and powder and whisked it with an egg beater. The gel had the right amount of viscosity.

I had the client rinse himself in water with me in the shower. Then, we went to the bed. Wet bodies help keep the nuru from getting sticky.

I kept off the AC so that the house would be warm. Nuru gel stays sticky in a warmer room. I realized my spinning ceiling fan might dry our bodies so a few minutes after we started, I turned off the ceiling fan.

This client said he couldn’t “cum” because he had his prostate removed (he was almost 70 but fit for his age). Actually, when I was researching kink, I found out that it takes two different fluids from male reproductive organs to cum. So, I wasn’t surprised when he did actually ejaculate and something came out but it wasn’t white.

Now that I’ve experienced this, I want to research what happens when men without prostates cum. Something is released but I don’t know what it is.

Anyway, he tipped me and left, before he left, he said that was one of the best sexual experiences he’s ever had. I hope he’ll be back. I asked him to leave me a review.

[gemmahale]

Petty Little Gripes

Bleh, it's Tuesday, and I'm whiny. Go tell yourself you're a good human bean for me. 💚

I have no milk/cream for my coffee. All I have is powdered creamer, which I refuse to use because it makes things taste funny and really doesn't get rid of the tannins like milk does. It's now room temp and more palatable. 🤷‍♀️

I'm overwhelmed by options at a few clothing shops I've been wanting to purchase from. And the sizing (from what I've read) on a few is...challenging. Why are you giving me flat measurements? 😭 So I'm just going to hold off entirely.

The closet situation at the house is so fucked right now it makes me want to weep. Moving bedrooms, while it might seem smart, isn't always. Especially when you move into a room that's not technically a bedroom. (But it's quieter and the temperature stays more regulated.)

Our ordering system for work is currently borked, so I can't order the harvest supplies we need for the community garden

I'd rather be writing than talking to people about why their grass is dying. It's August. It's been hot. Yes, even if you have been watering.

I'm dreading the electric bill this month because Kallen's gotten his workshop (he calls it the Depot, which I find endearing) up and running and that means a small AC, a vacuum chamber and a few other things are now being used regularly. (But he's that much closer to custom dice and that's a good thing.)

Annoyed the balloon festival has parking tickets. I understand why, because they can't operate without funds, but for it to be during our low-spend month is inconvenient. (But HOT AIR BALLOONS)

Fingers are itching to get into beading, polymer clay, oil pastels or water colors. Because knitting and crochet (and maybe spinning) clearly isn't enough.

I'm tired of choosing between writing, reading and making. I want to do all three. 😭