"Thanks," I said, and walked on, but saw instead this;
A crayfish crossing the dry, dusty path to get from one part of the river to the other. I've seen them do this before, and it mystifies me every time.
I met with cryptess downtown to-day--I haven't seen her in around five years, I think it's been, when I drove up to Seattle to bring her to Comic-Con. This year she took the train from Anaheim, and I helped her find her motel in Chula Vista. Or, well, I went with her in case my help was required.
My Comic-Con registration was processed remarkably fast--and a huge line formed after I finished. It was quite amazing. Now I'm going to try to get to sleep early enough to get into Hall H to-morrow. Updates here may be infrequent and/or brief during the Con, which ends Sunday, as I'll be spending all day there every day. I like to get my money's worth, what can I say.
Last night's tweets;
Brains are not packing styrofoam.
Nor are they purple pixie stick powder.
Brains hold true under your hairy scalp dome.
Good brains, when dead, become hot clam chowder.