Interview with the Weirdo

Ha, finding titles for posts is so hard. Anyway, all showered and nice now, revolting bacteria scraped from skin and stuff. And thus, without further ado, the Interview meme gacked from navigatorsghost: ( Read more... )

Nuts, they were harder than I thought. Anyone else want to play?

Oh, and in other news arrys_girlie has got some cracking new fic up. Go read and review. I'll take it as a personal favour. (I'm also having to make the most of it, because once her SO returns I'm going to be shit out of luck for new fic from her, I suspect!)

Coo

Look at that, three posts in one day...

Anyway. Where was I? Oh yes.

I have had an idea which, for once, has not been nixed by my dearly beloved husband. Wonders will never cease, etc etc. Anyway, he was bitching about the cost of tattoos, and I was beginning to pout about it. A bit. And then today, whilst in the shower scrubbing unspeakable gunk from myself, I remembered something.

About three years ago my nanna, Barbara, my mum's mum (may she rest in peace and her husband rot in Hell) sold her house. Due to increasing infirmity she and her husband bought a smaller bungalow. Leaving them with some free capital, they wanted to get rid of it; it was not enough to live on, but was too much to allow them to qualify for various benefits.

Like a pension, in case any of you are wondering. Or certain basic healthcare benefits. We have a bit of a fucked up system here. Anyway.

The grandchildren and children all received a certain amount of money. (My cousin of the execrable memory snorted and/or injected his, but if I think about that I'll get upset.)

Slay and I - because she always did rather like my husband - weren't sure what to do with ours. We didn't want to use it to pay bills or anything dull like that because, well, it was a gift. And we wanted to buy something that would always remind us of her. Something special.

Nothing has come to mind, and since her death last year it's become that much more important to me. I miss her terribly.

Today I thought of it. Why not use the money for ink?

Permanent. Personal. Okay she would have hated mine, but it's the thought that counts, right? And to my amazement Slay agreed - mainly, I suspect, because it means he can get his designs done and doesn't have to just sit back and watch my skin blossom with colour and form.

This has put me, for a change, in a good mood.

Which compensates in some small way for the Muses all hiding because he has the fucking TV on all the time!