Dear Stupid Internet Diary,

This weekend was both wet and eventful. It was not wet and eventful in a Dear Penthouse Fantasy Forum way, it was more like a sixty-five degrees and pouring and still doing stuff kind of way.

Now my coop has a sign, so lost chickens will not be confused.

“Which one’s this then, I thart the Donkey’s Head was round here?”

“Nar, nar, this be Chook’s Respite. Donkey’s Head is two blocks yonder.”

So now you can rest content knowing that chickens talk like bad English movie peasants.

I like the sign, but I think it needs Moar Glitter. I will work on this. In theory, it’s supposed to stop raining here in August. I’m sure my corpse will appreciate the beam of light shed on it as it swings from the rafters as I give up on July 29th. Hey, that’s not funny. Suicide, serious business. I have to get out of here before I get MS or something.

I went to the Fremont Sunday Market and I met this nice woman who makes really badass jewelry, sometimes out of exploded vintage pieces. This is nice, because some old stuff can be too much as one piece, but if you take part of a piece and add it in with something pretty, like new beads, it gets way cool. I am going to pick up a piece next Sunday.

Then when I came home, a spider nest had exploded by my front door.

They were huddling in a ball, because it is too cold to live.

I leave you with this nice song about cheese.

Interview with Strudelpire.

AHA! I forgot one more. I took the little chicks out on Sunday too, but it was so chilly they just crouched next to me, so I had to carry them back in. You could say it was not their bag. Ho ho.