i I have no mouth, and i must tweet

So, I am currently in Twitter jail for unknown reasons. The lack of ability to spout my thoughts into the Void / Not-Quite-So-Void is driving me a little batty, so I’m actually blogging! GASP AND EGAD.

Hopefully, since I can’t even tweet a link to this post, it will still reach someone out there in the ether who actually has an interest in the goings-on of my life and brain. IF YOU’RE THERE, HOLLABACK Y’ALL.

So, without further ado or adon’t, here are some random thoughts courtesy of m o i ‘s (Powers-That-Be)-inhibited heartsoulmindbody:

•One of the reasons I haven’t blogged in the last few months is that I have been sick a lot and by a lot I mean, like, A LOT. Like, the Snot Monster GOT me. And by got me, I mean I was vanquished utterly and defeated yea unto the mud. Back-to-back sinus infections, woop woop! 😃 The official count was 2 (two), but I suspect it was either 3 (three) sinus infections one right after the other in the space of 6 (six) weeks, or one single sinus infection that lasted a total of two and a half months. I DON’T KNOW.

At any rate, it required a high-powered antibiotic that made me feel like there were ants running under my skin in the middle of the night, before the sinus infection ultimately yielded and gave up the ghost. Since I have chronic sinusitis, I am not entirely sure that it is entirely gone for realsies, but at least I feel better.

The other factor in the Saga of Wrathful Illness is that in the middle of the high-powered antibiotic treatment, I came down with the flu. Yay. 😀🤪🙃😳😰😫😱😵🤒😭 That was so much fun. Can you hear the unadulterated sarcasm in my voice? No, you cannot. But, believe me, it is there. Palpably. If you were with me, you could touch it.

This was the first time in probably 15 years that I’ve had the flu, and the utter exhaustion and miserableness of the experience is barely describable. One of the most difficult parts was the continuous brainfog anytime I was awake, a brainfog which lasted at least a week after I actually felt like I no longer had the flu. I even had Tamiflu, and I still felt like I’d run a marathon anytime I was vertical for more than 5 minutes. As of now, I am finally feeling like a human being again and can participate in activities that contribute not only to surviving, but also to living and ye gods actually thriving. Hopefully this will continue through the holidays which will be, for various reasons I don’t want to get into right now, a lot more active and tiring than I had originally planned on. But such is life, c’est la vie, c’est la guerre, c’est la dreck.

(Side note I am currently using voice-to-text for the first draft of this post, and the app is translating that last sentence as “c’est la vie salon salon track.” Seems legit.)

•In other news, I am watching The Magicians Season 4 on Netflix and enjoying it immensely. Every season of this show just keeps getting better and better and I love it and it is completely in my wheelhouse, up my alley, it is the cream in my coffee, it’s all the cliches that indicate that this show was written specifically for me, my eyeballs my ears my brain my heart my gut my unmentionables. Right now I’m on Episode 9 and it’s funny to me that I am enjoying Margo so much this season. I didn’t like her really at all until maybe the middle of Season 3? But at this point in the proceedings, I think it’s fair to say that she is my absolute favorite character and…yeah, I probably shouldn’t say what my gut reaction to her really is. At this point I just want to share my thought that there is no one in the universe as regal as former High King Margo Hanson stalking out of the castle, holding her birthright box with her chin held high and her nose in the air and her entire being radiating a resounding f— you to anybody who’s watching. I WORSHIP THIS WOMAN.

Also, I. Miss. The. Real. Eliot. And I need him back as soon as possible PLEASE.

•On we go! To absolutely no one’s surprise (and if you are surprised, Gentle Reader, then I must say you don’t know me at ALL), I am utterly thrilled about the impeachment of the current American president. I could not be happier. I am well aware that impeachment does not necessarily mean removal, and it is very likely that he will continue to be president until January of 2021, and it is entirely possible that he will be re-elected in November 2020, in which case he will remain president until in January of 2025. I have had a glass and a half of wine, after not having any alcohol for several weeks, so I might not be doing that math entirely correctly, but y’all get my point. The decision to impeach does not mean that we are shut of him. I am not advocating any kind of untimely death, but the fact of the matter is that we will not be shut of him until he is dead. Honestly, hopefully, of natural causes.


I really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really hope that there is a conviction just over the horizon. It would be incredibly wonderful if that were to happen. I will not hold my breath. But there is still hope.

•In further news, tonight is the premiere of the newest Star Wars movie, The Rise of Skywalker, and I am not at said premiere, and it is a tragedy.

•In other further news, my LIFE.

And that is all for now.

Happy Festival Month, you utter cuties.

P.S. Gabbard is a coward and the entire GOP is slime.

P.P.S. Somebody at an OKC mall shot somebody in an argument that took place in a shoe store, and in not at all related news, we desperately need sane laws regulating firearms.

P.P.P.S. I want to see the CATS movie and I don’t care who knows it.

bad kitties and benicio del toro

Tally-ho, cutiepies! I was piffling around on Twitter and found a dream I’d shared there last year. Since it’s been forlikeEVER since I’ve blogged a dream, I thought it high time to rectify that oversight.

*ahem* Here goes….

October 25, 2018
Thanks to last night’s insomnia, I had to take a mid-morning nap or die. So I slept for about 45 minutes, and I got to experience one of the weirdest dreams I have ever had in my life. Buckle up, buttercups.

Bad Kitties and Benicio del Toro

I was catching a flight to Frankfurt, Germany, by the skin of my teeth. There was lots of running and dodging back and forth through crowds. Partly outside and uphill. When I rushed up to the airplane, they almost didn’t let me on.

To get to the airplane, I had to go through a small castle. The guy who almost didn’t take my ticket was dressed like one of those cosplayer barbarians that you see at Renaissance Fairs. And I thought if he didn’t take my ticket, he was probably going to throw me over his shoulder and schlepp me off somewhere. But finally he laughed raucously and stamped away, and I let myself onto the plane.

I was on the flight with one other passenger. It was a privately owned airline, and its claim to fame was that the owner and all of his cats would be on every flight. So, when I finally made it onto the plane, no human being was in sight. Only the cats. And some kittens! And they were really cute and sweet and I was petting them, and then I found my seat.

The inside of the airplane look like a cross between a medieval castle and a casino. I don’t really know how to explain it. But shortly after I found my seat, I was watching one of the kittens. It got ready to pounce on a toy —

— and suddenly a piece of the kitten’s side just opened up. Out popped an organ, a liver or something, and then it popped back in.



I looked at another cat. This one was was rolling around on its back, and when it rolled, its sternum opened up and its ribs splayed out and showed all of its innards and then went all back in together again. A third cat’s entire face just peeled off in a flap from forehead to chin, then reattached itself.

I was going to be sick. I went looking for help, and suddenly my mom was there. I was so relieved. I told her what was happening with the cats. She came to have a look, and we both were shocked and horrified. And I said, “Oh no, I have petted these cats. I HAVE TO GO WASH MY HANDS.”


So I went into the bathroom, which was very classy modern but shaped weird like an L. I turned the water on and reached for the soap —

— and suddenly this cat was there, squatting above the soap dish. It hunkered down and squeezed, and liquid soap came plopping into my hand out of a spout in the middle of its belly. And then it licked its bellysoap spout, looked at me with goofy eyes like Derpy from My Little Pony, and hopped down into this little basket next to the sink.

And not knowing what else to do, I washed my hands with the cat bellyplopsoap.


So when I got out of the bathroom, my mom was talking to the owner of this really bizarre airplane, which by now had been in the air for several hours; I knew we had about three hours left before we landed.

The owner looked like a dwarf version of Benicio del Toro, and he was dressed like a flamboyant card player in a casino or something. I don’t know, there were lots of vibrant colors and glitter. My mom and I tried to explain to him our concerns about the cats. He got very, very offended, and a dangerous gleam entered his eyes. I thought, “If we don’t find a way to make good with this guy, he is going to kill us.”

So I tried very calmly to explain to him that we we didn’t see anything wrong with the cats, we were just concerned for their health. Especially the health of the ones who were displaying organs on the outsides of their bodies. In the back of my mind I had decided, based on the incident of Bellyplopsoap Cat, that the other cats were genetic modification experiments gone horribly awry, and Bellyplopsoap Cat must be the first successful prototype.

So short-statured Benicio del Toro went into his office and shut the door. I turned around, and my mom was gone but my husband was there, and he said, “We just have to stay alive for 3 more hours.”

Just then, a perfectly normal-looking cat strolled past us. I bent down to pet it (one would think I’d’ve known better by now), and it turned around and its chest opened up and I could see all of its insides. I might have screamed. And then I woke up.


There was more throughout, but it was all kind of vague and blurry. As though this all weren’t enough as-is, right?!

Maybe this was why I couldn’t sleep the night before. My brain knew that if I went to under long enough, that dream was gonna happen.

And what brain in its right mind wouldn’t want to avoid that?

Also, what the hell was I processing that my brain needed a dream about improbable airplanes, mutant gross lab cats, and Benicio del Toro?

IMAX theater inside my head. Yikes.

valentine nuttiness

Happy Valentine’s Day, inklings.

I say that a bit tongue-in-cheek. The husband and I do cards and sort-of flowers: He brings them home, gives them to me, and then they live in the bathroom behind closed doors because Pippin thinks they’re her salad. Some years we go out on a Valentine’s date, but it doesn’t always work out. Especially since there’s now a kiddo involved. 😉

Me, I can’t quite get past the origins of Valentine’s Day, which have nothing to do with romance and everything to do with death. Even so, I still like to have fun with it. So, in the spirit of that, here are some of my poetic Valentine’s Day tweets from this morning. Just goofy stuff, but I hope they give you a chuckle. Some feature favorite movie and TV characters!

Courtney’s Twitter-Ode to Romance

Roses are red
Violets aren’t blue
I think you’re cute
Here, have a gnu

Roses are red
Cat noses pink
Cats don’t care about
Valentines, I think

Roses in bed
Breakfast in vases
Makes for the very
Oddest of cases

Roses blood-red
Spiders can bite
Here’s to delicious
Halloween frights

Wait, what?

Noses are red
Fingers are cold
This winter weather
Is getting so old

Except here in Oklahoma, where we’re having spring temps

Roses are red
Violets are blue
Just like your fingers
I chopped up for stew

Roses are red
Star Wars is cool
Scrappy young Rey
Ain’t nobody’s fool

Roses are red
Star Trek is neat
Riker likes Troi
So he turns on the heat

Roses are red
Thor wants “ANOTHER!”
Gets dirty looks
From Loki, his brother

Except SPOILER ALERT Loki is actually a frost giant

Roses are red
Dean loves him some pie
Winchesters go hunting
And monsters will die

[Dean randomly dies in the shower again]

Roses are red
USA has no luck
Already sucks

Roses are red
#amwriting is fun
But I need time away
Out in the sun

preferably in Maui

Roses are red
My final decision:
Netflix has ruined me
For normal television


If you enjoyed that and want more, I got really into the characters part of it all and wrote a Valentine Ode to Villains. Since Valentine’s Day has upon it the stain of death and evil and whatnot. 😉

He Made Me Loose, and 5 Other Shenanigans

Or: How You Spell Dis?! Part Deux

Greetings, O Fearless Writerly and Readerly Ones! I come to you today bearing tidings of great joy. And those tidings are that you, too, can learn to communicate clearly by improving your spelling and your grammar! Doesn’t that sound like fun?!

*ahem* You don’t have to answer that.


So, moving right along! Once upon a time, I regaled you with the tale of Riku and his encounter with a terrible, flying M-A-T-H. Aha! And there we’ve arrived at my first point, which is a reiteration of the moral of Riku’s story: If you don’t spell things correctly, people ain’t gonna know whatcha mean. How easily does Riku’s “math” become “moth” (which was the true source of the poor kid’s terror).

For the purpose of emphasis (and to make this post have something to do with its title [Yeah, we all see what I did there. {I don’t apologize.}]), I’d also like to restate one point from the Riku post:


He made me lose. = He caused me not to win.

He made me loose. = He turned me into a slut.
(Notably through no fault of my own.)


*ahem again* Thanks.

Okay, with that out of the way, let’s move on to happier things like lightning and cat pee.

Yes. You read that correctly. Lightning and cat pee. Here we go!

5 More Spelling/Grammar Shenanigans: How do you spell…?


INCORRECT: They’re cat peed on my porch. = They are cat peed on my porch.

Now, if you’re trying to insult someone, you might say, “They’re (They are) cat pee on my porch,” but that wouldn’t be very nice of you.

“Their” is a possessive pronoun. A possessive pronoun is a word that replaces a name and indicates ownership of something. Instead of saying, “The Smiths’ cat peed on my porch,” I replace “The Smiths'” with “their.”

THEIR cat peed on my porch.

INCORRECT: I saw the cat pee their.

What we’re looking for here is the word that shows where the cat peed. Remember, “their” is a possessive pronoun; it shows ownership. As-is, the sentence isn’t complete. I could say, “I saw the cat pee their coffee beans,” but that certainly wouldn’t be very pleasant for the cat.

I saw the cat pee THERE.

THEIR = ownership
THERE = location

2. IT’s and ITS, YOU’RE and YOUR.

INCORRECT: I saw it’s mischievous look when the cat peed on my porch.
= I saw it is mischievous look when the cat peed on my porch.

INCORRECT: I saw you’re mischievous look when you peed on my porch.
= I saw you are mischievous look when you peed on my porch.

I saw it is mischievous look?
I saw you are mischievous look?

No, no. The “mischievous look” belongs to the cat — or to you, for shame! — so, once again, I am looking for a word that indicates ownership. “It is” and “you are” do not fit the bill.

I saw ITS mischievous look.
I saw YOUR mischievous look when you peed on my porch. (Tsk, tsk, tsk.)

mischievous (MIS-chuh-vus) = CORRECT
mischievious (mis-CHEE-vee-us; rhyming with “previous”) = INCORRECT


INCORRECT: When the cat peed on my porch, I saw lightening flash across the sky.

(This is quite the apocalyptic cat.)

LIGHTNING (noun) = those bright bolts of electricity you see during a storm

LIGHTENING (verb; well, technically a participle, but that’s more than I want to get into here) –> from TO LIGHTEN
= to change gradually from dark to light; opposite of TO DARKEN

When the cat peed on my porch, I saw LIGHTNING flash across the sky.
The lightning highlighted the mischievous look on your face as you allowed your cat to pee on my porch.


INCORRECT: Your cat peed on my porch on Independance Day.

(You really should control your pet’s behavior a bit better, you know that?)

I don’t know what the Indepen Dance is, but if someone wants to teach me it, I’d be more than happy to learn.

Your cat peed on my porch on INDEPENDENCE Day.

(This is grammatically correct but conceptually quite bad form.)

5. WHOSE and WHO’S.

INCORRECT: I am perturbed at Mr. Smith, who’s cat peed on my porch.
= I am perturbed at Mr. Smith, who is cat peed on my porch.

Mr. Smith who is cat peed?


If I wanted to insult Mr. Smith, I would say, “I am perturbed at Mr. Smith, who is cat pee on my porch. The worthless slime.” But again, that wouldn’t be very nice. And, again, I am searching for a word that shows ownership of the mischievous and apparently incontinent cat. “Who is” does not work.

I am perturbed at Mr. Smith, WHOSE cat peed on my porch. AGAIN.

I am perturbed at Mr. Smith, who’s (who is) the man whose incontinent cat won’t stop peeing on my porch.

DISCLAIMER: Neither you, nor my porch, nor urine of any sort, nor any cats were harmed in the making of this blog post. Nor, even, Mr. Smith.

However: Terrible, flying maths will always be swatted.