No thank you Youtube. I do not want to know what Forbes thought of her net worth ten years ago. No, I do not want to hear an interview from CNN from fifteen years ago. I do not care what world leader got emotional at the sound of her voice. I truly do not want to know what Twitter has it's pantaloons in a bunch about. In short your search page one is useless to me. 

What do I want? What do I really, really want? 

I want to blast RESPECT till my speakers blow out, while I dance madly around my apartment, trying to ignore the hole in the fabric of reality that just formed. . 

Wet Koala 
Mangy Bear
Stressed Hag Fish 
Anything Without its Skin On

A short list of things you really shouldn't search when you are alone in the house at night. 

So somewhere in a thick stack of stories that are yet to be written is a modern fantasy work that involves your average, red blooded, American soldier, who happens to be a dragon. Raised in the Midwest, went to a one room school-house, Johnny Cash, baseball, and apple pie. 
Now here is a question. How would that work in the modern world? Fifty years ago some cryptid aspect of a story could be written off as - "I grew up out in the Ozarks." But with an endless parade of cellphone cameras, satellites overhead constantly, and hunter's trail cams everywhere how could a full sized dragon hide it's existence for the 18+ years required to reach maturity? 

Keep your eyes on the ground as the seasons move from summer into fall. A lot of little critters are shedding their skins and leaving them laying around. 

​Apparently there are social *expectations* when you begin to master lucid dreaming.
 
Me to Coworkers: “Guess what! I had a lucid dream last night!”
Coworker #1: “Cool! What did you do?”
Me: “I played Tetris! I cleared three lines before I got so excited I woke up!”
All my coworkers stare at me in mild confusion and horror.
Coworker #2: “You didn’t fly?”
 
…
Look, for thirty beautiful seconds all of reality was a giant Tetris game, I controlled it with my mind, and I was lucid enough to understand how awesome it was. Who needs to fly? 

Just a friendly reminder that the Book of Kells is rather awesome. It has history. It has mystery. It has fanfic. (In the form of a full length animated movie.) 

Quilx'tch greets his human friends and suggests that he might be a Yep!
A little wisdom from the internet to help that process. 

Why do humans follow laws? 

Cows. 

Your hands sweat. Your legs shake. You left your companions far behind. The police have them now. You thought you got away. They wouldn't rat on you. You thought you were safe. Then you saw them...unfortunately they say you first. Now they are coming. 
RUN.

At least the laws about not carjacking anyway. 

A herd of cows herded a (suspected) carjacker right into the arms of the police. 

No seriously. 

​Watch and learn why the farmers are so dang stern about closing the gate. 

This is in fact a Mazama Pocket Gopher (Thomomys mazama). It is a cute, fat, snuffly, little critter that kills White Bark Pines (Pinus albus) and digs holes for scientists to step in. 
No matter how tempting it is please do not put it in  your pocket. 

Humans are Weird – That is Not a Snake


“It’s cool guys!” Sergeant Grimes waved up at the tree like plants that now hid two flights of the Winged.
A bright copper head about the size of a golf ball poked out of a cluster of mauve leaves and twin black eyes glared down at him from under ten sensory horns.
“If it is all cool,” Twenty-five-clicks demanded. “Then why did you just leap half your height into air and scream out a profanity?”
“There was a cable on the ground,” Grimes said pointed down at the ground.
He bent down and scooped up the length of cable, holding it up for the flights to see. Slowly more heads popped out of the foliage and glared at the item. Grimes stifled a laugh at the image of a tree full of angry berries.
“Why,” Twenty-five-clicks asked as he fluttered down to land on Grime’s shoulder, “did you display a fantastic leap, for a human, over a harmless piece of trash?”
“I thought it was a snake,” Grimes said with a shrug.
He shoved the cable into his backpack as the rest of the flights circled around him.
“That,” Twenty-five-clicks said, “looks nothing like the three other items that you claimed triggered this ‘snake response’.”
“Does to a human,” Grimes replied cheerfully. “And besides, there are lots of snakes. Could look like most any crawly thing.”
“Or it is a complicated plot to frighten our species away from this horrific planet full of snakes,” a voice muttered from the trees.
“No snakes in the north and south,” Grimes corrected as he started walking again.
“You mean the places that are constantly covered in ice,” another voice demanded.
“Look,” Grimes said with a shrug, “it’s a choice. You live where the air hurts your face, or you live where you might get a death bite by a nope-rope at any step.”
Twenty-five-clicks bit back a hiss and reminded himself that the human made them safer. He could put up with the false alerts so long as the human did spot the predators when they appeared.