March 26, 2009

What The Deuce

My right nostril was blocked, so I blew my nose. All seemed well for about a minute, and then the nostril began to make crunchy little "tick tick" noises even when I wasn't breathing. The ticking grew more persistent until suddenly blood came pouring out in a flood. I grabbed for a kleenex as I watched it splatter my nice clean shirt, but the bleeding ebbed almost instantly after the initial flood and I didn't end up needing it.

I can't help but wonder. Did very small terrorists just bomb my fucking sinuses?

Lucid Dreaming Again, Holy Cow

Damn, it happened again! I was chasing a train through the city on my bike, trying to catch up with someone who was inside. The city was full of strange intersections and alleyways, tunnels and overpasses. I was going faster than a car, weaving in and out of traffic and always just behind the train.

The train went into a long and curving tunnel where I lost sight of it through a mass of gridlock that shut me out. I veered left towards the other end of the tunnel to cut the train off as it came out, and I knew I had to move fast and take some risks or I'd lose it for good.

I swerved around a guard rail over the edge of the overpass and soared downward. As my bike left the pavement, I looked down, and too late I realized how high up I had been. I was falling hundreds of feet onto the back of the emerging train. There was no way I could land and survive.

My entire body jolted with a spike of nightmare-adrenaline, and once again I felt my conscious mind intervene. "This is not real," I told myself, "And I'm not going to die this way." At that, my falling slowed to a stop. The tracks slowly rose up. I was moving the city, bringing the ground slowly up to meet my wheels, the way I had expected it to be when I first took the shortcut.

At the same time, I realized that if I kept controlling the action I was going to wake up. I was beginning to feel my body, lying on the bed, and I knew that if I moved so much as a finger it would break the spell and I would lose the dream. I tried halfheartedly to fly like a bird, but it didn't work because I had begun to question my abilities. Too much awareness, not enough fantasy. I was thinking about how best to balance the state in the future as I gradually released control of the dream and allowed it to continue.

I lost the train in the time it took me to touch down, but that didn't matter much. See, the whole chase was just a video game anyway, and I knew I would beat my score with no problem on my next try. Then it was all about swimming at a lake with the Captain, and a white and gentle dog the size of a bear was showing me a tiny kitten who was its dearest compantion. Its paw was so huge the kitten could have used it as a bed. I spent the rest of the dream looking at posters of bad anime fanart, and woke up sicker than yesterday, with my puppy curled up beside me on the bed.

Now for some analysis: So far, every time I've cut into a dream, it's been to stop a terrifying thing from happening. The jolt of full-body fear seems to be the signal, right back to the first one. So my question is: am I having more nightmares this month than I ever used to, or am I setting these terrible situations up as a trigger to the lucidity that has begun to increase? Hmm.

Every dream I have is linked to the previous one. I am aware of them as a series inside the dream, and I am comparing them with my normal logic and speed. In the dream, I am slowly learning new things about my ability to decide what happens around me, but my control is poor. Something in the conscious mind says "impossible" and I can't allow that to dictate what I do in fantasy. So my project for the next dream will be to address this issue, so I can set off better dreams before letting go of the action. I would definitely prefer to go back to normal dreaming once I've changed the terms, because it feels more free and exciting that way, but it would be cool if I could give myself abilities first and then let them play out on their own.

For one thing, think of the ideas I could have if I could set the stage in one of my story universes, and let my unconscious mind play with the parameters and go wherever. I did this once when I was 12 after some bedtime meditation, and it led to amazing fun.


Hear that? That's the sound of the Mythbusters team spontaneously ejaculating in their pants.

March 25, 2009

Galactica, woo!

YAY Battlestar Galactica is finished and I didn't get horribly spoiled on the ending!

I liked it. Not sure if I liked *all* of it, but I give Galactica a pass for being really interesting even when it's not perfect. Also, I've developed such an incredible crush on Tricia Helfer that it's not even funny. She's not even my type, but... yowza.

Luka is a Plague Dog Again

Dauuuuugh I'm sick again. Another cold. My shrink joked that I would fall ill because I showed up for my appointment soaking wet from nostrils to tiptoes thanks to an unexpected mid-bike-ride rainstorm, and I laughed. Oh, how I laughed.

I should have remembered that I had two ill roomies at home. I should not have challenged the gods.

March 24, 2009

The Captain, Seductive

No you can't have my dinner you cozening hussy of a dog. Go back to sleep.

March 21, 2009

Lucid Dreams and Spring

The other day I took the Captain out to pee and examined the lawn. Dead yellow grass as far as the eye could see. Seven hours later I was back out there looking at the same spot and the yard was full of two-inch green shoots. Also the crocuses had come through the leaf pile, and our front yard tree was covered in red bud casings. It happened that fast.

Also, I had another lucid dream, only this time it was easier. La Llorona was chasing me and my conscious mind kicked in. I thought about how I'd done this in the previous dream and felt honestly like I was cheating to do it again, but I pushed the thought aside and pulled rank again. Started to wake up and said "no, don't wake up, this has possibilities." Next thing I know I'm flying figure eights around La very confused Llorona, blowing raspberries like Peeves the Poltergeist and chanting "Nyeah nyeah nyeah! I'm dreaming and you're not!"

I've been having dreams for a while where I'm coherent enough to have not only surface thoughts, but also feelings and concerns and things that don't get vocalized. I even think about previous dreams and know they were dreams. Then when I wake up, it all makes sense--no dream-logic. But taking over the dream twice in one week? I wonder if that could be the Prozac.

March 19, 2009


So, like, did Spiderman 2 suck on purpose or something?

Don't get me wrong, it was fun and cool as hell to watch. But with the possible exception of Meet the Feebles (and the jury is still out on whether that was actually intentional), I can't fathom how any single movie could be so unbelievably, laughably bad by accident.

All those comical NOOOOOOOOOO! moments, usually with unflatteringly hilarious facial contortions. And the CGI! The script! The acting!

Haha, just kidding, there wasn't any acting.

I give it two thumbs up for gratuitous damsel-in-distress upskirt shots and wanton destruction of property.

Let's Go Bugfuck Over Fucking Bugs


I have been noticing that shortly after I urinate, when I look down into the toilet bowl and a light source is directly above which illuminates the water, I notice something invisible in the water "kick about" as something on the surface makes mini waves shoot about in the bowl. I only noticed this after I urinated and not before. Most days I will find about 5 or 6 or more "waves" being shot about at about the same time which only makes me think it is parasites still alive thrashing about in the water.

I should add I am two weeks in taking Humaworm tablets and feel I have seriously angered them. Any ideas ?

An aquatic battallion of pee-worms doing the backstroke in your loo water? And they've brought their invisibility cloaks!? The invasion has begun! Better not flush, or they'll swim all the way to the sewage plant and THEN YOU'LL BE SORRY SOMEHOW

But oh my god. That's nothing, check out this chick's complaint.

There's something in my sinus cavity. what do i do?!?!?!? I can feel it squirming when I push on my soft palate with my finger and its AWFUL..i drooled and had nightmares all last night.

Advice would be wonderful right now

My advice: Stop snorting worm eggs. They won't get you high. But don't listen to me, I've never even had my colon detoxed. Experts agree that the correct answer is:

I'd put some salt water in a nettie pot, or use a dropper bottle to put salt water in my nose and wash out my sinus cavities. I'd put lots and lots of salt water through my nose.

You could also put a few drops of food grade Hydrogen Peroxide in some distilled water and use that as nose drops, to try and kill it before it comes out, but be forewarned: the HP burns really bad and it might make the worm wiggle around even more.

The thought of a live worm draining down the back of the throat or coming out the nose is pretty scary. I feel for you. That sounds scary enough to send most people to the emergency room. I'd probably blow my nose a lot, see if I couldn't get it to come out that way first.

The ER? For worms biting your head from the inside? Pshaw, there's a lemon and syrup cleanse for that. Plus it doubles as an enema (before OR after you drink it) and you can even recycle the foil packet into a hat.

Back to tweaker-chan and her squishy sinus morgellons of death:

I suspect they are attracted to my soft palate because I have been chewing gum lately to curb sugar cravings. I poked on one of them hard enough to get him to leave and I honestly felt him go down my neck. I believe they are free swimmers. He is just really irritating and he's causing a lot of sinus congestion/pressure because he's in such a tight spot. It's more annoying than anything and I hope he's not biting anything important!


I'm also having really awful depression and mood swings and its hard to see things that are far away. I'm soooo scared that they're in my head causing trouble and everytime I take my parastat I get horrible panic attacks. I am three weeks into my cleanse and I think they're awfully desperate. Should I continue the program if I believe they're in my head? Has anyone else had this problem? I though they might just be in the cavity right above my mouth but I have pain in the back and top of my head and I just don't know what to do with myself.


I thought he was going to come out my nose at the grocery store..he blocked my estachian tubes for a while. but oh well, I'm just glad he's not sitting on my soft palate anymore, though it sucks he's in my head still. that soft palate sure hurts when it gets bit.

5HAT WHAT wh555555555555555
ERROR CANN5OT SNARK5555555555555555555555

I passed some weird mucous just now and I showed my boyfriend...he brought in his four year old neice to inspect it and she matter-of-factly said, "maybe it's poop!

Maybe it's ALL poop.
How many fibers did you have come out?

5555555555oh look, there's the morgellons. Did I call it or did I call it?
I dug a black rock from under the skin of my leg once. It just gets weirder and weirder. I think there's something going on in the big scheme of things that is making this stuff happen to us.


maybe I'll lure them away with some candy before I do it so they don't go rotting away on my eyeball or something.

I'm just going to do every cleanse that I may benefit from and I'm positive it will work eventually. I went through a time where I just knew it couldn't get any worse, and I always get out of it somehow. I can't wait to be myself again!



March 17, 2009

bird is the word. papa oom mow mow.

What's the name of the Midwestern bird whose call sounds like "DO WHAAAT? DO WHAAAT? DO WHAAAT? ... BOUNCY BOUNCY BOUNCY!"?

Because that bird is the shit.

March 16, 2009

In Babylon

It is so fucking weird to find Planet P's music on YouTube. Weird and awesome.

I grew up on his stuff... hell, I still play the Pink World album through from start to finish a couple of times a year, and it never disappoints. Pink World was my only friend when I lived in Missouri. I had a walkman and I'd play the album every single morning on the two-hour backwoods bus ride. There was also Floyd and Kraftwerk, Men Without Hats and Hawkwind, but this was not their standout era.

When I listen to that album, I remember one-lane mountain roads that crept past layers of flat morning mist that buried the Ozark mountains for miles. I remember the horrible cornhusker's lotion the driver used to bathe in before work each day, the rotten smell of the seat covers, diesel fuel. Sitting alone in the back of the bus, so every bump in the road gave my brains a stir. Somehow, the memories are never bleak and miserable. That era in my life was pretty black. The worst things that ever happened to me all took place in Missouri, but Planet P only brings back the good stuff.

I also remember deciding to be a comic artist because I wanted to tell stories. Planet P did it all solo for Pink World, and while the music itself didn't age well (turns out synthesizers taste better in moderation), for me it was always all about the story. And wanting to tell my own.

It's really cool to know he's still making music, telling epic album-length stories, mostly solo. I'm rooting for him. The Go Out Dancing project reminds me (favorably) of Roger Waters in one of his apocalyptic moods. I haven't gotten to know Levittown yet, but so far I'm digging the hell out of it. Waiting for the right time to play it to death with my full attention so I can digest the lyrics.


Six pages. Six epic pages. One of them took three days, and I am pretty sure you'll be able to tell which one that is without any hints. Have fun!

March 15, 2009


Two years later and I'm actually proud it happened. Humans are so weird.

You can be so completely attached to another person that the notion of letting them go under any circumstances is beyond the pale. Choosing such a heartless abadonment and then being happy about it? That's just unthinkable. What are you, some kind of monster? You'd have to be crazy to blah blah blah.

So yeah, we broke up. And yeah, it hurt like hell for a year. For most of that year I literally grieved. I pined and obsessed. It was all through my dreams, where I could--and did--cry. I raged, I blamed him, I told myself I had to work up the courage to go back because I felt I couldn't take the loneliness for one more second. I felt like it was a moral failure on my part that I never quite got pathetic enough to go back on my knees and make him forgive me for bringing out his rage and contempt by being flawed and human.

I'd done it before, but this time my stubborn pride wouldn't let me make things better. I didn't want to pretend I was wrong or sorry when I wasn't, just so I could have the old relationship back. In my eyes, this made me the bad guy. Petty. Had to have my way. So arrogant I'd betray a friend rather than lie to them and make them like me again, etc. etc. But I had drawn a line: if he didn't come back, I could not chase him.

Too many times before, I'd done just that, and I always felt so diminished afterward. Pigheaded as he was, he never would have returned or apologized first. I could do it, and I saw myself as a martyr because I did. Yay for me, I had the courage to take the blame I often felt was undeserved, and my prize was having him like me again.

So fucking disordered, but I needed it. And you know, he always wondered why I hate love songs and chick flicks so much. Well, basically it's because everyone hates having that black mirror shoved in their face. I think I just can't stand watching people celebrate the same kind of twisted codependence I secretly suffered. I have just enough insight to recognize dysfunction, but as for applying it to my own life? Still working on that. Lots of denial in there to cut through first.

And time went by. Slowly I began to realize that what I labeled as obstinacy and pride were actually protecting me from allowing my poor sense of boundaries and ragingcodependence to keep me in a bad situation. Nothing would have changed if I went back. It would be a huge fuck-you to my sense of self-preservation. Another fit of martyrdom would have been killing the first healthy impulse I'd had in ages--to not fix everything at my own expense. Deep down, I knew this from the start, but I tried pretty hard to bury it in layers of obfuscatory bullshit, and for a while it worked.

By the time the anger and obsession began to fade, I started to see how emotionally unhealthy things were. I had never realized just how much the relationship had warped when I wasn't paying attention. It was rusted through. Nothing held it together now but my determination to keep it alive at all costs. That was when the grieving stopped and I began to move on.

Starting a few months ago, I realized that, far from missing the way things were, I was actually celebrating its end. I was relieved! For the first time, I thanked my stubbornness instead of being ashamed of it. That petty little line in the sand that I drew in anger had finally put an end to a relationship that ought to have died naturally many years before.

Kids, they don't know any better. Kids think friends are always forever and that every love is the only true love they'll ever have. Kids don't recognize the signs when the time comes to stick a fork in a relationship. I missed this stage of development when I was growing up, and that has led to years of animosity and dysfunction. The people involved grew up and went their separate ways in life, and our friendship began chafing as it ceased to grow along with us.

The resulting swan song droned on, unheard and unheeded by either of us, until what should have been the happiest memories of my life were polluted by the regret and resentment of the latter years. That makes me sad.

So many grudges and self-censorships, trying to be a different person from the one I was, just so someone else would like me. All because I was in love with someone who didn't exist anymore. Oh, the depression, the recriminations. The self-loathing. Why wasn't I good enough? Why did he change? Woh, woh, woh.

Imagine my surprise when I realized that this, all of this, was normal. Normal and okay. A vital part of being human. Imagine my relief. It's not about finding company in misery, it's about finally connecting to a major component of interpersonal relations.

So kids, when you're in a relationship and things change, don't be scared to change with them. When the skin you're in gets too tight and starts to itch, try shedding it. Spend your whole life terrified that your guts will spill out because there's nothing left to hold them in, and you'll never get to see what's actually underneath. For me, it turned out to be a much thicker skin, and it fits pretty good.


I have a dream. Someday, I really want to doodle on a dog. Can I draw on whiskers? Can I make him look like a panda? I've asked many times to draw on the pets of my friends, but nobody ever lets me. "Get your own dog to draw on," they say. Are they crazy? I wouldn't want a wierd-looking dog like that.

- Eiichiro Oda


March 14, 2009

Anime Explo

Anime Expo's alley will be opening for pre-reg on the 31st, but they released the paperwork this afternoon. Leafing through the announcements I noticed that staff have doubled the price for a traditional-sized table from $50 to $100, in addition to the $50 registration fee that you must pay before you can even apply for the alley spot. They also put in about a hundred more tables, which fits my personal definition of "oversaturation."

I thought to myself, yeah but still... and then I stopped to consider the cost of travel and expenses, the hassle of tax registration, the fact that I don't like SoCal very much. Mulling all of that over gave me a nasty feeling that my AX 09 plans had just fallen through with a resounding "meh."


Why, you're only a sort of thing in his dream!

What kind of evil asshole would name a pair of cuddly baby white tigers "Ben Wa" and "Taboo?" That's right. MY kind of evil asshole.

Also, Goodbye Zoloft, goodbye tremor, hello Prozac!

Last night I had one of those dreams where I'm being chased by assassins with axes. Axes! They cornered me and I couldn't find a weapon to hold them off. Just a car antenna, which I yanked free and found to be utterly useless. They closed in to chop me to death, and the nightmare panic started to take over. I realized that it was too late to escape, that I was REALLY going to die, and it was going to hurt. Just before the slaughter began, I realized: Fuck that. This is a dream and I make the rules, so starting right now I am pulling rank. I regret to inform you that I will not be experiencing the unpleasantness and horror of being murdered by ax-wielding assassins at this time. Instead, I will know kung fu, and my attackers will suddenly suck ass at fighting.

And that's how it came to pass that I killed the shit out of all four of them armed with only a ripped-off car antenna.

After the massacre, I led my KICKIN' RAD NEW FRIENDS the Straw Hat pirates to safety on a gorgeous tropical beach and tried explaining my epiphany to them. I told them how I had realized earlier that I was dreaming. I told them none of this was really happening.

They just looked at me in total confusion and tried to make awkward small talk to change the subject. I realized that, because they were figments, they had no fucking clue what I was even talking about and it might even be making them feel uncomfortable to discuss the subject. So I quit bashing my fist into the poor dented fourth wall, and curled up to sleep next to my nakama on warm white beach sand. The wind was warm and carried the sound of the waves to the beach and we watched the full moon rise in an indigo sky from under our temporary canopy tent. It was wonderful.

Then I woke up with a dog's butt in my face.

March 13, 2009

(But Do You Know Who's Listening?)

Vienna Teng's Whatever You Want is my current favorite song ever. We cannot has embedding for the file, but it's totally worth a middle-click.

I love it when people sing about shit that's actually interesting. Revenge, activism, screwing over Le Homme, and of course the timeless question of "Who does the prostitutes' laundry?" Teng rarely disappoints. I'm always thinking "Good god, woman, can you please just write ONE bad lyric sometime so I won't feel like hanging myself from the shower head every time I crank out a half-decent filk song about Mary Sues?

March 11, 2009

The Venture Bros. Still Rocks

I can't tell you how many times I've re-watched this episode, just for this classic Walking Eye bit. And the bathroom subplot, of course. (Just don't ask me why the uploader put "yaoi" in the title).

Season 3 is about to come out on DVD. Joy! I haven't seen any of the new episodes yet but I smell a marathon coming on as soon as I get my hot little hands on the set.

A Cautionary Tale

At first I didn't think I'd like this song, but it turned out to be a real gut-puncher.

March 10, 2009

Antidote to the Late Winter Funk

EDAR (Everyone Deserves A Roof) is a 501(c)(3) charity that provides unique mobile shelters to those living on the streets all around us. Each EDAR is a four-wheeled mobile unit which carries belongings and facilitates recycling during the day and which unfolds into a special, framed tent-like sleeping enclosure with a bed at night.

Fucking awesome.

March 5, 2009


Two pages! Oh goddamn am I ever pleased with myself right now.

Now I get to go to bed and sleep as much as I want. Joy! Boring, boring joy!

March 3, 2009


I finally got the Captain a new collar. This one's traffic-reflective so he'll be more visible at night. I also got him a proper harness for bike-runs, and am going to attach reflective tape to it as well. Then I'll go to the hardware store this week and buy tiny reflectors and make buttons out of them, which I'll wear on the back of my biking jacket. I already have a flasher on my bike and a blinking pendant shaped like a bone for the Captain, but you can never be too visible.

The bike's brakes were getting loose so I took it to the shop where I got it. The owner came out, looked it over and told me to bring it in anytime for a full going-over with adjustments, because some of the factory settings aren't quite to his liking. He showed me how to tighten the handbrake in the meantime (modern bikes have such weird interfaces! I didn't need a screwdriver) and when I asked how much for the tune-up, he said they wouldn't charge a thing. Fucking amazing. I'll be getting the handlebars adjusted if there's any more wiggle room, and if not, I'll need to buy a longer set so I can sit completely upright to save my neck and wrists. Then I'll buy a rearview mirror and get it installed on the handlebars. It's good times.

Still working on the comic, still dragging ass. I haven't gotten much sleep lately so I'm slow and easily bored. Today was therapy and we had a really long, really thought-provoking session talking about codependency and boundaries. Also about my need to get my life started and gain some independence (especially financially) so I can feel like more of an adult.

It's really weird climbing out of the pit I'm in. And not all that painful, at least not yet. We're doing good work. Starting to establish a rapport. I guess I got lucky on that one--no one I know has ever liked their first therapist, and I adore mine.

I've been listening to the Adam Carolla podcast since he lost his morning show and decided to continue doing the job for free out of his basement. He's such a belligerent dick, but I love him. I miss the old Loveline, before Scrappy Doo (aka Stryker) took over and David Allen Grier was barred from returning as a guest. I don't agree with all of the Loveline advice (they are completely ignorant and judgmental about gender dysphoria, for example) but most of the time it's dead-on. I've been listening to the archive of 2004 for the past month or so while I play One Piece and collect my non-thinks.

Spring is coming. I need to get out more, and take a bunch of photos with this awesome camera before everything turns soggy and brown.

Pictures of snowman sex acts to follow.

I Hate The News, Part 665 1/2

I know raging against American popular media for being distorted and dysfunctional is like pissing in a sea of piss, but it really fucking burns to see how they're treating this pop star domestic violence thing. The guy beats his girlfriend so badly she's hospitalized, and a week later they're back together and she's forgiven him. So of course the news headlines are all about their "reunion" and how they're patching things up after the argument.

Stop it. That is not what this is about. Don't take an abuse cycle in progress and spin it into a happy ending. Maybe it's intrusive and impolite to call this what it is, but sometimes reality needs to be ugly. I feel like an enabler just seeing the magazine covers in the checkout line.

March 2, 2009

I love your big dick. Desu.

My iPod's battery was dying, so I put some gay anime porn on it. No problems since then. Coincidence? I think not.

The weird thing is that when I converted the video to .mp4, the audio track got corrupted. Instead of the dialogue and occasional yelps of joy it was intended to have, there was only the main character saying lines like "I love your big dick" and "Put it in my butt" over and over again, with various inflections and squelchy sound effects. For 30 minutes. And no, it didn't loop.

My conclusion? It's a subliminal "Learn Japanese the Easy Way!" program for pervs.

March 1, 2009

Luka's Adventures in Laundry and Dog Torture

Poor doggy. It's shocky-collar retraining time, and that is not a good time to be a Captain.

The last time I made him wear the collar was in the fall because I noticed him starting to dare the borders of the kitchen and found a few scattered wrappers around the trash can after leaving him alone. After that, the UFO unit that sends the signal to beep the collar stopped working properly.

He's been getting more and more bold regarding the no-fly zone for about a month, and today he got into the kitchen and cleaned out the cat food twice. That was that--I took the UFO apart with a screwdriver and messed with the connections until I got it to work again. He heard the faint test-beeps from out in the hallway, and I could hear him bolting for the stairs. So much for the element of surprise.

Unfortunately, dogs are fairly skilled at pattern recognition, so he has figured out that the collar is involved with the terrible torment that befalls him when he trespasses. It takes a while to de-condition himself, but I don't want him to figure out that taking the collar off means party time. Two ways around this: make sure there is a beep of punishment when he's not wearing the collar at certain points, and leave the collar on but turn off the power so that it doesn't warn him. Either way he'll stop associating the beep with the collar, resulting in a win condition for me.

The prongs shouldn't be in constant contact with his skin because it could cause pressure sores, so to take the latter approach I'll need to wrap the collar with something soft and comfortable. The former approach will require me to catch him in the act while I'm holding the collar (or a tape player with the collar noise recorded onto it).

In the end, it's worth it. The kitchen border keeps Maya-cat safe in her basement domain (she is bitterly racist against all Captain-dogs) and the Captain can't choke on anything he scavenges from the counters or the trash with his ever-so-industrious nose for mischief.

It's a work in progress, this cohabitation with other life forms. At least he's being really nice to Molly-cat. She has no fear of him whatsoever. I've seen her taunt the poor fellow into a barking frenzy from her comfy perch just over the blue do-not-cross line. Today I was petting her with one hand and feeding the Captain snacks with the other, and she was actually purring in between those tiny little grunts that mean Molly is being shown affection. Strange girl, that one.

In non-dog news, the dryer was not working the other day, so I had three loads of wet laundry to deal with. I found a roll of twine and made a quickie clothesline all over the basement by crisscrossing all the support beams. The towels ended up really stiff and still had pet hair on them, but my clothes are plenty soft enough to wear and hanging it all up wasn't all that difficult. I decided to try and make a habit of it.

So I bought 60 feet of clothesline for $2 at Walgreens, cut it into several lengths, and did the thing properly. On laundry day it's going to be like hiking through the jungle down there, only instead of bats and biter-snakes, you'll get attacked by soggy skivvies. The basement is so arid that things dry fast. I'll still need to tumble the towels a bit to remove the pet hair and soften them up a bit, but that's no problem.

(Blame Netflix for sending me An Inconvenient Truth when I was feeling particularly hippy-minded. I couldn't even finish it so I just swore to be less wasteful and sent the DVD back.)

Last thing I'll need to do is make sure I strung the lines high enough to avoid beheading anyone in the dark. Seebs is the tallest one here so I'll test it out on him first.