kinsfolk
Was going to go with "one interminable scream," but the typography was disappointing.
So instead here is a record of my increasing reliance on Netflix escapism and kittens.
Congrats on surviving the year, folks. It's been...memorable.
Other years summed up here.
Other years summed up here.
In which my brother shares a fun fact about meteor showers.
That may or may not be true.
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If you arrived on this page after being handed the above by a total stranger:
congratulations--you just met one of my parents.
And welcome to the League, where business cards ordered ironically and meant to stay on one's desk as a self-taunting reminder of one's peculiar life choices occasionally get distributed by one's progenitors to hapless passersby.
Anyway, thanks for playing along. If eclectic posts at unpredictable intervals are your thing, you're totally in the right place.
There is a slight chance that I misjudged the appropriate volume of apples this year.
But whatever.
Thank you, cousins, for your heroic stifling of hysterics. And a Happy Thanksgiving to all.
(click on image to see in full screen)
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Facts that can be gleaned about my preschool self from a plate I made thirty-one years ago this month:
1. I acknowledged the existence of my older brother,
2. I was hyper-attuned to navels and nostrils, and
3. My grasp of human anatomy was otherwise tenuous at best.
All these years later, two out of three are still true!
Happy birthday, mybrother.
Thanks for the endless fodder, and I'm glad you actually have extremities and a neck.
All work by The League of Lost Causes is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 4.0
