For me it’s tardigrades. I can be just walking home from work or waiting to pay for groceries and it’s like “OHHH what even are they for?”

ooooh I can’t read about other folks’ spider encounters without remembering grasping what I thought was a dried leaf caught in a chain link fence when I was a kid and it was a big dusty beige moth

I will tackle everyone’s spiders as long as I never have to cope with moths

I just stay in my little cluttered cottage with sweet rolls and random stuff like blue mountain flowers or netch jelly or nirnroot for free just when you need them most: “help yourself just don’t touch the books”

I reread Roddy Doyle’s Barrytown trilogy regularly. It can still make me howl.

Kira Jane Buxton’s Hollow Kingdom struck me as riotously funny in a dark and messy way.

Thank you for not using a tool that pillaged the work of artists and writers so that it could be used to hurt us

ps I love this drawing

What the high fructose fuck did I just read? How am I still surprised by willful ignorance?