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Talking about, uh, homeland security:

So far, we've cracked down on a whole bunch of visa violators. Now I hate visa violators as much as the next guy, but wouldn't it be great to get actual accessories to the actual terror attack?

John Ashcroft: inept fascist. He can't even run a police state right.

Blog for America

Dean Releases Disability Rights Platform
A day after Governor Dean was endorsed by Lowell Weicker, the original co-sponsor of the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA), during an event in Iowa City, Dean marked tomorrow’s anniversary of the ADA’s enactment by announcing his disability rights platform:

"This Saturday, July 26, we celebrate the 13th anniversary of the enactment of the Americans with Disabilities Act of 1990. The ADA is one of the most important civil rights laws ever passed by Congress. By requiring public buildings to be accessible and by outlawing discrimination on the basis of disability in employment and public accommodations, the ADA has provided new opportunities for more than 54 million people living with disabilities.

"Above all, the ADA has changed attitudes. It has led to new respect and dignity for individuals with disabilities. It has empowered citizens to confront discrimination and recognize their civil right to be treated fairly. This law holds out the promise that individuals with disabilities will be welcomed as full members of the American community.

"The best way to mark the anniversary of the passage of the ADA is to build upon its success by expanding the horizons of Americans with disabilities."

rivka says, "Kerry is the only other Democratic candidate with a disability platform, as far as I can tell, and it's kind of sketchy. Edwards has a statement about increasing medical research on disabilities in the section of his website about his health care views. Lieberman, Kucinich, Gephardt, Mosely-Braun, and Sharpton don't seem to have disability platforms, as far as I can tell from their websites."

i am so pleased about dean at this point. i hadn't realized that i was resigned to whoever got elected screwing over the ada some more, but now i have some hope that it might not happen.

Yahoo! News - Top Stories Photos - AP

President Bush (news - web sites) signs American flags for workers[...]

what was that about a flag descecration constitutional amendment?

Editorial: Working overtime / Labor Department's flawed plan:

In proposing the changes last spring, Labor Secretary Elaine Chao said she was adding 1.3 million low-wage workers to the category of people automatically eligible for overtime pay. That's a fine idea and probably overdue, since Congress hasn't changed that particular threshold since 1975.

But with less fanfare, the Labor Department proposed a second set of changes that could eliminate overtime pay for some 8 million workers, including licensed practical nurses, restaurant cooks and dozens of other jobs.

and under shrub's watch, cheap labor gets even cheaper, and millions of people lose the overtime pay that they count on to pay the bills. this is good for the cheap labor conservatives who are proposing this bill, but not good at all for the people who will be affected by it.

About Women En Large - Debbie Notkin:
Debbie Notkin - Enlarging: Politics and Society
(Women En Large page 91)

As a fat woman myself, I had a lot to learn when doing this book. The most important thing I learned was the one that should have been most obvious: the label "fat woman" tells you only two of the hundreds of things you need to know about a person to understand her. Fat women are rich and poor; of African, Asian, European and other descent; big and small; powerful and weak; interesting and boring; fulfilled and constrained; professionals and unemployed; athletes and couch potatoes; artists and mathematicians; lesbian, queer, bisexual, transgendered and straight; disabled and temporarily able-bodied; optimistic and depressed; fundamentalist and radical; mothers, office workers, laborers, and sybarites; beautiful, good looking and ordinary looking. ...

the quick description of this book is that it's pictures of happy naked fat ladies.

the long description is too long to go here, but suffice it to say; if you are either fat or a woman, or someone who loves someone who is, and you are trying to not hate your body, you need to read this book.

i have a copy, and i'm willing to let you read it, if you're local. just for the record.

Body and Soul

"Do you know how bad the intelligence about uranium from Niger was?"

go find out. (here's a hint: really really bad.)

did i mention the long long part?

so. convergence.

thursday morning, i woke up and hauled myself out of bed. nathan, wonderful man that he is, had packed all of the artshow boxes into my car, and put the luggage into his car. this meant that i needed to get the dog and her stuff, my bag o'artshow crap, and the brightly colored ballot box into the car. ha.

in order to fit all the boxes in and leave me the front seat free for the dog, nathan had squished the front passenger seat as far forward as it would go. this is all well and good. so, i leashed the excited! oh so very excited! dog, grabbed her bag of stuff, grabbed my bag of stuff, grabbed the ballot box, grabbed the camera bag (this sounds much easier than it was), turned off the house lights, and headed downstairs. once i made it downstairs, i had to unlock the door, get myself and all that crap through the door, relock the door, turn on the security system, and then over to the car. but wait! there's more!

i got everything over to the car, and put the ballot box on the roof. it was loaded full of stuff, and pretty heavy, not to mention unreasonably sized. then, i opened the door, put in the bags (as many of them in the now tiny foot well as was possible, so as to not smush the dog), let the dog jump in, got in myself, and backed out of the driveway.

re-read that last paragraph carefully.

on my way down minnehaha to get onto the highway, people kept waving at me. and waving. i couldn't figure out why... until i got down to 46th street, and the guy behind me opened his window and was whacking the roof of his car.

oh. shit. the ballot box is still on the roof.

fortunately, i was in the turn lane, and so i put the car into park, grabbed the dog (she's a nine pound wigglewort, and i did not want her running out into traffic), opened my door, and leapt out and grabbed the box, waving sheepishly at the guy behind me.

this took up all the remaining room in the car. pirate really wanted to ride on my lap instead of standing on the slippery ballot box, but i was a meanie and wouldn't let her. so, across town we went, to my parents' house, where i got to leave miss pirate for the weekend, so she could try desperately to play with my parents' dog and be roundly ignored. (coco is a fine sedate dog. emphasis on the sedate.)

after sadly leaving pirate, it was back on 494 to drive to bloomington to get to the radisson south. i hit a cash machine on the way so that i would have money to tip the nice bellhop people, because i was not about to carry all that in myself.

i pulled up into the valet parking thing, and chris, bellhop to the stars (and also me) came right out with a cart. i said "everything in the car needs to go in!", then thought better of it and mentioned perhaps only the cardboard boxes needed to go in, not my jumper cables and antifreeze. we chatted some as he filled up not one but two carts with artshow boxes and i loaded my junk from the front seat on one of them. whew. we scampered (okay, limped and dragged) off to plaza 5&6, and he unloaded the art into a corner, while i mentally did a happy dance. i then exorbitantly tipped him (at least i think it was exorbitant, from the look on his face), but i don't care! i didn't have to carry any of the art boxes! woot!

a short note here: my arthritis is flaring pretty badly at the moment. i am off and on missing work because a) ibm has a kick-ass sick time policy and b) i hurt like hell and walking to my desk doesn't seem doable, even from the cripple parking, which i get to use. i just had a dose pack of steroids (arthritis wonder drugs, except for the mood swings and the leaching calcium out of one's bones parts...) the week before the convention, so i didn't want to ask for another one so soon, even though i knew that if i got it (which i don't think i would have; my doctor wants there to be some time in between) i'd be in less pain during the con. oh, well. i thought fondly of the little scooter cart things when walking back and forth across the hotel, but was mostly functioning at acceptable levels, thanks be to painkillers and single malt. mmm. (no, not both simultaneously. i'm not dumb.)

when i got to the art show rooms, denae (who is great to work with, by the way! wheee!) had computers set up on the tables, and tony and laura were working on getting the database and the network set up. denae and i talked things over, and gravediggers were hard at work putting our panels up for us, after having dragged them in from the parking lot.

sometime in the afternoon, matt and heidi came by. matt is co-head of programming, and this year, heidi was the liaison for eric flint. this meant they were a little busy thursday. this meant that they dropped the baby off with us for a while. note for next year: five month old babies are adorable, but art show is not a good place to keep them. unless we get to put a minimum bid on them and hang them on a panel. no, wait; they'd be 3-d art and should go on a table. hmm. must ponder.

the other big thing that happened that afternoon was that i found out that paul had died. let me just say that huge amounts of work that need to be done works great at displacing grief.

eventually, the database and the network got set up, and volunteers started wandering in. we threw ourselves at the data entry, and at hanging the mail in art. this went astonishingly well, and we were all done with it by 9pm. sadly, we had wanted to have tony's birthday dinner across the parking lot at friday's at 8pm, but a few people wandered across and got protein before they exploded, and then we came and joined them. then denae and laura went home for the night, and i went upstairs to get what was to be my best night's sleep of the convention. ha.

friday morning, got up and sent nathan off to procure breakfast from the dq grill and chill from across the parking lot. mmmm. i hope they took our staffing recommendations seriously. i didn't hear any complaints about the service being awful due to understaffing, so that leads me to think they did. however, i missed entire divisions of the convention, so you can't take my lack of hearsay too seriously.

denae was already down at the room and it was open. at 10 am we started checking in walk in artists. this involved data entry and then pointing them at the panels. we let people pick where they wanted to hang their items, and we spread out the mail in art over the panels the day before. this seems to have worked out all right, although if you're an artist and you were there, i'd love to hear feedback about it.

somewhere in here we had lunch, and then at 2pm, we opened the room for viewing. we still did the occasional check in, but mostly, it was attendees looking at the shiny things.

late in the afternoon we had our one truly unpleasant experience of the con; one of the artists had apparently misunderstood the rules for being an agent for someone else's work. we had a short yet intense discussion in which we determined that yes, we did in fact know who zie was, and yes, in fact, we were going to stick to the rules that we had laid out and that zie had signed that zie'd understood, although we were willing to brainstorm ways in which we could help zir meet our requirements so that the art could be hung. (no, i'm not naming names or even giving you the gender of said artist. get your gossip with names on somewhere else. :P ) zie ended up not hanging anything at all in the show; zirs or anyone else's, but such is life.

at that point, food got brought to me, although i cannot remember by who, and i chased denae out of the show, much later than i had meant to. i stayed through closing on friday night, saw my friend rob and in fact had to chase him out at closing time, and then called to get the room locked up and our fine representative from the finance department (who i'm not naming just because i don't know if they want that publicized) came by and picked up our cash box. i was baffled about cash box handling and was about to truck it off to the bridge (my motto: when in doubt, make the bridge handle it) but was rescued. yay!

i went off to the supercon party, in search of single malt, which i had requested be brought. mmmm. (in my copious free time (ha ha ha) i am also the chair for supercon.) nathan and donald, fine people that they are, had made me very strange cordials made out of chocolate fondue, single malt, and strawberries. i have to say, it was the most interesting thing i ate all weekend. it was also my brush with fame, as i ate some of the chocolate, the strawberry, and then handed off the rest of it to a person who i didn't know who was apparently in savage aural hotbed. i let him have the entirety of the other one, as well. we didn't talk much; i just said that no, it wasn't awful. awful was definitely not the word for it. however, i do not need to have that experience again.

i grabbed an empty comfy chair, and then one of my fine supercon minions brought out the bottles of single malt. there was a lot of laphroaig left, which i knew i didn't like, and two others which i didn't know the names of. i interrogated kyle about which one of them was least like the laphroaig, and he said the sherry cask whatsit. (i'm certain it had an actual name. i'm also certain that i don't know what it is anymore.) so i had a small glass of that. mmm.

at that point, my friday night went downhill for a little while. i was sitting still, i was considerably destressed, i had a little bit of scotch in me, and it occurred to me that my friend kerry, who used to live in iowa, might not know about paul's death yet. i said "did you hear about paul?", she said no, and i pretty much lost it. i had to flag down nathan to explain; i'm no good at talking while i'm crying. kerry petted my hair for a while, until i felt better. this is where the "people i've dated aren't supposed to die" rule was formulated. sigrid came into the party at that point (she was working an ops shift, and let me just say that those new ops vests are only sexy if you're really a big fan of people looking competent yet dorky.) and i again flagged down nathan to get him to tell her. she didn't know paul, but she was looking a little worried about me.

anyhow. i wandered up and down the hallway for a little bit; the toast party was serving i kid you not sushi. it was not great sushi, but it was, without a doubt, the best sushi i've ever had at a room party. (okay, also the only sushi i've ever had at a room party.) vice city (formerly known as ethel party) had a big freezer and was handing out ice cream and hard lemonade. i wanted an evil sticker, but didn't get off my butt and get one from them.

back to the supercon party, i sat in a different corner and talked to different people. i got to feel up kyle's calves, which are quite nice. if you get the chance, i recommend it. (he says it's all the swimming he does.) sigrid talked up the convention to people; laura says we need to recruit her to be our p.r. lackey. i agree.

i also saw nathan and beth and jenx and cj and ninety two million other people at the supercon party. if i don't mention you by name it's because i was sooooo tired, not because i don't love you.

at about midnight, after two whole hours of nonstop partying (or something. geez, i'm getting old), i went off to bed.

denae opened the artshow in the morning, but i came down before noon to take over for her because there was a panel she wanted to see. so she went and panelled and hottubbed and napped and had lunch, and then came back. i then escaped for a few hours and hit the dealer's room long enough to buy a beautiful necklace from my friend katie (dragon's den jewelry), to decide that i didn't want to spend that much money on a corset even though they were very nice, and to let nathan buy some games. then i realized that i was totally zoned out, and dragged nathan back upstairs for a nap. a nap, i tell you! there was not enough napping in my life that weekend.

i got up and slogged back downstairs to the artshow to get ready for the art auction that night. nathan stayed upstairs napping. denae had people going through with markers to mark up the pieces that were going to auction already, so we continued to do that, and watch people dither about whether or not to bid.

at 6pm, we closed down the artshow, and then started frantically pulling the pieces that were going to auction, and marking up the pieces that were sold at bid. the sold at bid part didn't need to be done on saturday night necessarily, but we did then because it meant we didn't have to do it on sunday morning. we were a pink and green highlighting whirlwind, i tell you.

teresa, bless her heart, had brought in a cart that we could use to put all of the art going to auction on. it had shelves. (if you've never worked an artshow auction, you do not understand how cool this is. very very cool. trust me.)

i made nathan go order room service dinner, and call me when it would be ready so that i could go snarf it and get dressed. sadly, denae and laura stayed in the artshow and moved computers and etcetera and missed dinner. this is very very sad, and must be fixed next year.

so, i dressed all up pretty in a burgundy velvet dress and a lace scarf my sister lent me. (i had meant to wear a shawl that heidi made for me, but i could not work out how to usefully have arms while wearing it. foo.) i dashed down to the auction room, sat down and familiarized myself with the new computer setup. denae came in, looking fabulous in silver and burgundy, and we figured out how this all was going to work.

charles started the auction pretty much on time, and michael sheard, fresh from his stint as a masquerade judge, came in only a few minutes late, and we were off. mostly.

the auctioning and the running part of the auction went very well. we had a small group of runners, plus the occasional guest runner from the audience. michael made jokes about how pussies were soooo popular here (apparently cats with wings are the hot art topic at the moment; who knew?) and sold many many of them for us.

we had some minor computer glitches, however. well, minor in that they did not cause the hotel to start on fire. denae's computer's cuecat didn't work, and my computer didn't have catnip installed, so while it would read the barcodes, it wouldn't read them properly.

ooops.

laura fiddled with it for a little bit, but then we all correctly decided that it would be worse to try and fix it and delay the auction than to work with me entering by hand and denae writing things down on paper, so, that's what we did.

michael sheard and charles played wonderfully off of each other and off of the audience. my only complaint (and it's a little one) is that mr. sheard wouldn't know a schedule if one bit him on the ass. but it was a very very fine 3 1/2 hour auction, even though it was almost twice as long as we'd hoped.

the last piece sold for $500, a fine finish to the evening. scott was finally outbid when he was unwilling to up his bid from $469 to $569, to counter the $500 bid. (he seems so quiet and staid, but that facade slips when he's tired...)

so, all of the art had been placed back onto the cart when it was sold, and we trundled off downstairs to do some preliminary sorting work, as mentioned above. (sorting went very well last year, and i can see some big improvements to
make to it for next year. mwhahaaa.)

one of our runners was kerry, and we tasked her to find someone, anyone, that we knew who had a flask and to make them bring it to the artshow room so that we could be properly fortified with scotch while we worked. she found kyle, and they came down with cask strength abenpour (i may have the name slightly wrong) and gave us a small talk about why this was the good stuff, and didn't seem to mind too much when we were completely distracted.

suddenly, it was 330am. so we called hotel, had them come lock up the room, and off to bed where i did not collapse in an unconscious heap nearly as quickly as i'd have liked to. (instantaneous would have been nice, i tell ya.)

denae, because she is insane (but i mean that in a good way), was down at the room at 830am, to meet volunteers to help with the sorting and bagging. i stumbled down at 9am, and nathan brought breakfast and also spare breakfast. mmm. (must remember for next year: some volunteers are vegetarians.) at 10am, we opened the doors for artist checkout and for buyer checkout. we also offered unsold pieces for sale at the minimum bid, which means that we sold quite a few more pieces that day. thus passed the next five hours in a blur of printing things out and borrowing paper from reg and buying another ream of paper for checkout slips and tracking down tony to fix & to and in the database because artist checkout really didn't like it.

we had our fabulous volunteers start bringing things up from the back of the room to fill the spaces in at the front so that we could start knocking down panels. i don't know if garry brought his power screwdriver from home (power tools are never on *my* convention packing list, but people are different...) or found it somewhere in the hotel, but he and some other people leapt upon those panels and started taking them apart.

by this point, we had closed for art pickup, but still had a small pile of people who hadn't picked up their art yet. so we collected a list of badge numbers and sent jenny off to registration to find out who these people were. sadly, one of them was me. whoops. so i picked up and paid for my art, much to everyone's amusement.

the boxes for the mail in art were dragged out from behind the table they spent the convention behind, and people started repacking it into the boxes. i printed checkout lists, and handed them off to people who tracked it all down and stuck it in boxes. then the gravediggers taped up the boxes with much enthusiasm and vigor. (and more accuracy than i was expecting, i have to say. i think i only had to retape two of them for mailing.)

we then had a few conversations with the hotel department and gravediggers about where, precisely, secure storage was, and we nearly ended up with the art to be shipped out in my hotel room over night, but after talking to ish, it ended up somewhere else for the night. (i'm not telling where... nanny nanny boo boo!)

i took the bad karma art to the bridge and explained to them what to do if anyone came racing over during closing ceremonies, and denae, flip, and i registered for next year's convention. nathan was off in closing ceremonies, and we went off to wait patiently for him so that we could go get dinner. by the time closing ceremonies finished, we were not smart enough to go anywhere but stuga, so that's where we went. on the way, we picked up tony, lauren, and crystal, and had dinner (after a long wait; stuga was not quite staffed to the levels it needed to be). we had an adequate dinner, and then tony, lauren, crystal and nathan went off to wander around, denae and flip headed for home, and i headed for my swimsuit and then the hottub. wheee!

while in the hottub, i chatted a bit with various people, including ethel. after turning an appropriate lobster color, i climbed out and echolocated nathan, in f2e2. i dripped on the plastic for a minute or two, and then ran off to change back into real clothes and dry off. then, zooooom! back to f2e2, where lauren made me coffee with irish cream in it. i burnt my tongue because i was not tracking very well on the whole "drink slowly-- very hot" thing. there was much chatting, and then lauren wanted to wander over to the dead dog movie at the other end of the hotel, so lauren, tony, and crystal did that, and nathan and i only got as far as the next cabana down before we were grabbed by the promises of places to sit and people to talk to.

we ended up in front of krushenko's, where they were watching the czech version of alice in wonderland that i hate. but i sat out on the patio where i couldn't see inside, and explained why i hated it to people. people wandered in and out, and we talked about diversicon, and about czech movies, and about how much time any one department head spent outside of their department (quick tally: not much), and about the convention surveys and about many more things. we talked with matt and mike lee and tim and sean aka harmonic convergence boy and heidi and ethel and i made faces at the bazling, who was asleep and snoring. finally, there was the stumbling off to bed, because nathan had to go to work in the morning, and i had to get up and make arrangements to ship all that art back.

we went to bed with no small amount of discussion about how much we missed the dog, and we both promptly fell asleep.

nathan got up early and schlepped all the suitcases into his car, leaving me with basically only the stuff i had to bring to the convention, minus all the art. whew. so i threw the last few things together, tucked the brightly colored ballot box under my chin (i seriously need to get a picture of this thing on line...), threw the bags over my shoulder, balanced the bad karma art on my head, and headed out of the room. thank goodness, our hotel bill had come out correctly; we weren't billed for anyone else's meals or anything like that, so i did the in-room checkout thing before all of this. i stood in front of the elevator, after having thrown everything up in the air so that i could push the button and then catch everything on the way down. (i exaggerate. but not by much.) i got stared at by a few shriners.

i wandered over to the secure storage room, and started checking out the boxes. all in good shape, most adequately taped and i managed to snag a roll of packing tape, and all but three to go to ups and therefore to radisson receiving. i filled out the sheets that radisson receiving gave me, and lightly taped them to the boxes and set them in a new pile. while i was doing this, gravediggers wandered in and out, carrying heavy things and leaving them in neat piles around the room. i was in awe. they were cranky. i cannot, in the slightest, blame them. if you are around on monday or thursday next year, and are not physically broken in some important way, help gravediggers out, okay?

the radsouth has absolutely fabulous bellhops, just for the record. i called and after having to wait a while (convergence people moving out, shriners moving in, this is all as expected) lucien came to help me take the nineteen million boxes of mail-in art to receiving. he loaded it all up, and off we went, after he reassured me that i could leave the rest of my stuff out in the open for the few minutes it would take us to get to receiving and back. ("it's just you and the shriners in the hotel", says he. "yes, but i don't trust the shriners", i say.) but off to receiving we went, and then a short chat with the man in receiving, and hurray hurray for leaving all the boxes down there. back up, and lucien loaded the three boxes that were left plus all my bags onto the cart, and then off to the car. all my stuff packed into the car, and i waved a sleeeeeepy farewell to the radsouth and drove off to pick nathan up for yummy yummy italian lunch. after that, nathan drove back to his work, i sleepily hopped in the driver's seat, and i managed to get to my parents' house to pick up the little yap dog of love (don't tell her i call her that; it would only embarass her) and back to our house, leaving everything in the car but the dog and the dog bag without incident, and then there was a very fearsome nap.

the enb.

abby and my dad are off to russia. i am soooo envious. i gave abby the equivalent of a thousand rubles to buy shiny things.

i'm working on a long long long convergence post, fyi.

No More Mister Nice Blog

IS IT ANN COULTER -- OR IS IT DAVID DUKE?


Maybe people wouldn’t be so quick to call Ann Coulter a hatemonger if she didn’t write so much like...well, an ex-Klansman.

from DesMoinesRegister.com | Obituaries

PAUL N. CLITES
Des Moines
Published on 07/11/2003
Paul Neil Clites, 41, died July 3, 2003 in Des Moines, Iowa. Paul was born February 24, 1962 in Salisbury, NC. He was a graduate of Salina High School in Salina, KS and Clarke College in Dubuque, IA. He also attended Iowa State University. During his life he lived many places, but chose to make Des Moines his home and had been a long time resident. He had worked as a computer operator at various locations, most recently at Manpower. During his time in Des Moines, Paul was very happy among his friends.

Paul is survived by his father and stepmother, Roger and Louise Clites of Johnson City, TN; his mother and stepfather, Joyce and R. Martin O'Shea of Richmond, TX; sisters, Margaret Clites of Colorado Springs, CO, and Nina Kincaid of Ponchatoula, LA; brothers, John Clites of Pembroke Pines, FL, and Brian O'Shea of Richmond, TX; and nephew, Shane Palmer of Colorado Springs, CO. He will be deeply missed by his family and many friends in Des Moines. Paul was preceded in death by his paternal grandparents, Myron and Ruth Clites and maternal grandparents, Flavius and Marguerite Burnett.

Memorial services for Paul will be 11 a.m. Saturday, July 12, 2003 at Hamilton's Funeral Home.

sometimes i just want to kill everyone

xat reminded me about exploding dog. i [heart] exploding dog.

y'see, the problem is-- he was going to live forever. he told me so.

most people, when they tell me that, immediately follow up with explaining about how they've given up eating because skinny people live longer, and about how they're going to have their heads cut off and frozen, and then i back away slowly and explain about how i have to go wax my cat now.

paul just explained that medical science was progressing so quickly that by the time he got to be of an age to need to worry about it, they'd be able to prolong life. and then prolong it a little more, and a little more, and a little more, and eventually, he (and everyone else) would live forever.

he and i dated for a while, and it was a good relationship and a good breakup, and i saw him a few times a year; at demicon and at icon and occasionally other places. he wasn't always the most thoughtful person, but he was sweet and friendly, and when you pointed out that he was being thoughtless, he usually agreed with you and tried to make up for it.

he'd been working on demicon since at least demicon 2, and i met him at either demicon or at icon; i don't remember.

he died last week; suddenly, and while at home alone. planning on living forever doesn't really take that into account.

goodbye, paul. i'm gonna miss you.

Your weasel is the European Badger. Big and tough
looking on the outside, soft and relativly
sweet on the inside, as long as you don't mess
with them or their cubs.
Good news: Badgers are cute and interesting and
beloved by people who read Wind in the Willows
or Redwall. You're also able to dig your way
out of everything.
Bad news: You eat worms. No, really. Plus, people
accuse you of spreading bovine tuburculosis.
Digging your way out of everything doesn't work
with traps.


Which weasel are you?
brought to you by Quizilla


nathan always knew this.