Made caramel without any lasting scars, so go me, a bit of a first, and didn't get any on my velvet jacket. My mother also has caramel scars, it's kind of a hereditary curse. To everyone that came to my halloween party, thank you--you mean the world to me. Plus, I can't eat all these damned caramel apples alone.
Badger, incidentally, was grateful for the boffer-sword company, and encourages me to meet more furries that appreciate the subtle grace of whiffle weapons.
We ran out of halloween candy, so I started giving away my huge stash of costume makeup :) Oh, their little eyes lit up, or else they were very confused.
Swartze, please don't sneak up behind me to rub my nipples again. I'm not giving it away.
Really wanting to write a rhyming, Edgar Allen Poe-ey sort of verse. I need a good subject matter, something appropriately surreal and possibly morbid. I need a plot that rhymes. Maybe something will occur to me, but I'm finding the blank screen of LiveJournal to be more of a threat than a challenge today. The curser is blinking, but I think it will have to stay blinking.