Here you will find the stockpile of the social media associated with the Creature's Cookbook experiment. You can scroll through it, or simply use the search feature to find posts by keyword.
Me: I can hear you quite well. From down the street. Please stop shouting. Do you mind if I have my bean juice before you get your fruit juice?
Spawn2: Lemonade Juice!
Me: May I have my bean juice before you have your lemonade juice?
Spawn2: *with narrowed gaze of judgement* Yes, okay.
Me: *opens cabinet* Wonder- Where the fuck is my coffee?
Spawn2: Ohhhhhh Uncle Simon, that’s a Mommy and a daddy word!
Me: Yes, it’s also an uncle word! Where is my coffee? It was here earlier! *rummages through cupboard angrily*
Spawn1: Dad took it. He said he would buy you more but the coffee at his work makes his stomach sick.
Me: *stands very still…breathing deeply and taking an inventory of all the food items within reach so that when I have the capacity to move, I can grab them instantly* I am going to kill your father.
Spawn2: *gasps* No, Uncle Simon! I need my daddy, or I’ll be sad!
Me: *Looks down at the face. The spawn is quite serious* I was being facetious, pet. I will not eat your father.
Spawn2: *sniffles* I will buy you coffee with my ‘lowance!
Me: Unnecessary, but thank you.
Spawn2: Promise you’re not going to eat him?
Me: I’m not going to eat all of him. May I take his hand? Perhaps his foot?
Spawn1: *makes face* Please eat his feet. They’re so stinky.
Human children are exhausting. Within one conversation I run from dealing with tantrums to deep existential terror to philosophical points to stinking body parts and slapstick comedy.
Please tell your Spawn that that story made my life.
Also, I feel your pain.
Also aren’t we supposed to be boycotting Tumblr today?
*throws phone*
Is it the first already? Damn it all. Yes. No more tumblr for me!
Me: I can hear you quite well. From down the street. Please stop shouting. Do you mind if I have my bean juice before you get your fruit juice?
Spawn2: Lemonade Juice!
Me: May I have my bean juice before you have your lemonade juice?
Spawn2: *with narrowed gaze of judgement* Yes, okay.
Me: *opens cabinet* Wonder- Where the fuck is my coffee?
Spawn2: Ohhhhhh Uncle Simon, that’s a Mommy and a daddy word!
Me: Yes, it’s also an uncle word! Where is my coffee? It was here earlier! *rummages through cupboard angrily*
Spawn1: Dad took it. He said he would buy you more but the coffee at his work makes his stomach sick.
Me: *stands very still…breathing deeply and taking an inventory of all the food items within reach so that when I have the capacity to move, I can grab them instantly* I am going to kill your father.
Spawn2: *gasps* No, Uncle Simon! I need my daddy, or I’ll be sad!
Me: *Looks down at the face. The spawn is quite serious* I was being facetious, pet. I will not eat your father.
Spawn2: *sniffles* I will buy you coffee with my ‘lowance!
Me: Unnecessary, but thank you.
Spawn2: Promise you’re not going to eat him?
Me: I’m not going to eat all of him. May I take his hand? Perhaps his foot?
Spawn1: *makes face* Please eat his feet. They’re so stinky.
Human children are exhausting. Within one conversation I run from dealing with tantrums to deep existential terror to philosophical points to stinking body parts and slapstick comedy.
Have you read the ones on the website? I’m afraid it takes a fair bit of time to tell a story. You’ll be asleep before I post it, but you’re more than welcome to the ones I’ve already told on my website, or in my short story collection on Tapas. Or you can come chat with the Insomniacs Fraternity in my Rabbit room
Normally I’d oblige, but I’m afraid last evening I was doing too many things at once. Pray, do give me a chance to make it up to you.
Return to me with the sort of story you’d like to hear, and I will see if there was ever a moment in my life that is suited to that.
“You’ll be asleep before I post it”
Bitch please
This person was preparing for bed and wanting me to type out a story before they fell asleep, unlike you, Papaya, who made black tar at 5am after two straight days of wakefulness. You don’t have the right to speak.
Go eat several diphenhydramine and disable your mandible.
I witnessed a massive slug migration. A ten foot span of sidewalk covered in about two dozen slugs, each varying in size from two to three inches. I stopped for a moment to admire them. It’s been a long while since I saw such fine specimens.
I wonder if they’re edible. I’ve eaten several kinds of snail, and at one time I used to gather them from gardens and sell them to ladies. Mixed with sugar, they liquefy and were at one time a highly sought after cosmetic item.
Simmer down, you gentle readers who want to shout at me “Leave the slugs alone Simon, you voracious bastard!” I would only eat one as a test, but I was on my way somewhere. If they turn out edible, well then they’ll have to learn to slither faster.
Simon's Tumblr Dump 