At Everfree, helping SPark vend plushes. Come by and see, get a round pony blob, or a bat!

Pony Feather has a booth here, and actually got ahold of device heretic to publish Eternal, which is my first great fic love on this site. I'm amazed. Gobsmacked.

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I wasn't trying to crash-test the vaccine, but the dummy survived this time. Antigen test and PCR test (separate swabs, 3 days after exposure as recommended) both say no plague. What was the scratchy throat? Iunno. Not plague, apparently.

I was re-reading a fabulous story tonight-- Celestia Plays Dice with the Universe, by the inimitable and wonderful Cynewulf, who I have been privileged to call a friend.

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I'm dreaming of a wet Christmas
Just likes the ones I've always known
Where the pavement glistens
And children listen
To songs that promise Christmas snow

I'm dreaming of a wet Christmas
As all my days pass in a storm
May your days be happy and charmed
And may all your Christmases be warm

This one is JediMasterEd's fault.

Psychic spies in chitin try to steal your mind's elation
And little girls across the world dream of rainbow deflagrations
And if you stand for all of these things it's Alicornization

It's the crown of the world and all of equine civilization
The sun may sail in the sky so high, but it's settled in a central location

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American Woman plays on the radio.

"What band did this song?"

"Guess Who."

"I don't want to guess, just tell me!"

"I am! Guess Who!"

"Tell me!"

"Guess Who!"

"Who??"

"No, The Who did Tommy."

"I don't care about Tommy, I want to know who wrote this song!"

"I told you! Guess Who!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"This doesn't sound anything like Yes!"

I present something that clearly should have been in the first Equestria Girls:

(original)

Well, you've got your element and you've got your pretty wings
And you're such a rising star
dancing on your strings
But don't play with me, 'cause you're playing with fire

Your teacher, she's the Princess--owns a piece of everyone
And you'd rather be there with her
Basking in the sun

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Morning has broken, like the first morning,
Blackbird has spoken, like the first bird.
Praise for the singing, praise for the dawning,
Praise for them springing fresh from Her word.

Sweet the rain's new fall, sunlit from heaven,
Like the first dew fall on the first grass.
Praise for the sweetness of the wet garden,
Sprung in completeness where Their hooves pass.

Mine is the sunlight, mine is the morning,
Born of the two lights Jannah saw play.

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I finally got the chance to watch Guardians 2 tonight.

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So ya
Thought ya
Might like to...
Write for the site.

To feel the warm thrill of inclusion--
That dizzying height.
Well I've got some bad news for you, sunshine:
The editor's not well, he stayed back at the hotel,
And they sent us along with a surrogate pen;
We're going to find out how you've stuffed up again!

Are there any typos in the story tonight?
Get 'em up against the wall!
There's one in the highlight--it don't look right to me!
Get it up against the wall!

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