I'm Mik. Model, mother, moron. Future meta-magician. Former logic clinician.
My better half and I own Brainfood Bookstore in Longmont, Colorado. It is the only exclusively indie- and local-lit bookstore in the nation. We meet a lot of crazy folks.
Testimonial from a former roommate:
"Living with you was like living with a quiet little opinionated deer person who floated around like a ghost and said smart/nutso things and ate seaweed. "
I love Colorado. I love mountains. I love hiking. I read and write. I raise my children to the best of my ability. I have lupus and have defeated early-stage cancer twice, so I pretty much fully support the use of medical marijuana.
Catching Elephant is a theme by Andy Taylor
K so last night was the worst night of my life because John made stuffed poblano peppers for dinner. He was using his Mexican aunt’s recipe, only he kept substituting like all the peppers except poblanos with Ghost Chilis. Which, if you aren’t aware, were declared by Guinness Book of World Records the World’s Hottest Pepper in 2007. So basically it was really fucking hot. And John tried to fix that with like a tablespoon of cheddar cheese, mangos, and peach salsa that had more fucking ghost chilies in it. So… it was really fucking hot. And the children were vindicated when John cut into his pepper and it squirted him right in the eye.
Basically, John is pretty tough as far as guys go, but good golly. I have never seen the man in so much pain. He literally rolled around on the floor awhile. I thought we’d have to take him to the emergency room because it no doubt damaged his eye ball. I don’t even want to go through all the first-aid options we attempted in order to make his eye bearable. One of them was milk, though. All you really need to know is that he was in pain.
Anyone familiar with Murphy’s law and my luck knows where this is going.
Later that night, we were getting busy, when I felt very… warm. I told John to stop, and I paused for a second, during which my thought process was, “It’s just warm from friction, it’s just warm from friction…. IT’S NOT FRICTION!!!!!!!!!!!!!” I curled up in a tiny ball and cried like a baby while John ran a bath and I felt like I was giving birth to Satan. I hopped into the bath and howled mercilessly while John fetched, once more, the milk. What came next is probably a type of porn if you believe Murphy’s Law of Porn (“If you can imagine it, then it exists on the internet”). Anyway now I can’t feel most of my vagina due to burn damage k thank you bye
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