It turns out my cheesecake archives are surprisingly short on pictures of fully-dressed young women who are clearly inside of a home. Lots of outdoor kittens in bikinis, lots of indoor kittens in lingerie, and vast quantities of kittens in less. I guess it’s a case of au naturel selection.
Unrelated, with apologies to Jimmy Buffett…
🎶 🎶 🎶
Idlin’ the days away in my Coronaville,
Searchin’ for hydro-oxy-chloroquine.
CNN claims that Orange Man Bad’s to blame,
But we know … it’s all China’s fault.
🎶 🎶 🎶
Tagging for half-rim glasses is annoyingly inconsistent on Pixiv, so I ended up doing a comprehensive search for all kinds of eyewear, then manually selecting both kinds of half-rims.
If hand-washing helps keep Corona-chan at bay, then surely prolonged bathing will provide even more benefit…
Related, I was wrong when I thought last week’s episode was the end of Interspecies Reviewers. Episode 12 not only lets Our Horndogs boldly go where they’ve been before, but includes not only the long-overdue demon shop review, but a bonus bathing scene featuring Death Abyss herself. 9/10, would contract again.
And hey, if you’re working from home due to Zombie Apocalypse, then everything’s Safe For Work, right?
I’d do a lot more Spring Cleaning if I had an army of cute maids. Even if I had to stay six feet away from them at all times, just the sight would raise my… spirits.
Cleaning isn’t the only option I have while effectively under house arrest, but I haven’t yet mustered up the enthusiasm to process vacation pictures, scan ancient medium-format negatives, sew a quilt, braid sword cords, update my CNC software and start cutting something useful (long list), trim the bamboo, fix some bugs in my published code, finish building the larger CNC mill that’s been taking up space in my living room for several years, etc, etc.
I’d love to get an electrician in to install two GFCI outlets (more Washlets!) and replace the old bathroom fan/lights with something made this century, but the ones allowed to remain open are pretty busy covering necessary maintenance. Lowes is open, so I could acquire the necessary tools and parts, but as with most things not involving my sex life, I prefer to pay professionals.
California isn’t quite under martial law, although sending your troops to shut down gun shops “to prevent panic buying” (San Jose, apparently unaware of the 10-day waiting period, one-gun-a-month limit, and draconian ammo purchase laws statewide) and ordering power and water cut off to any business that tries to stay open without approval (Los Angeles, second only to San Francisco in filth and disease) suggests that “slippery slope” is just a euphemism for bending everyone over and greasing them up. If in a few weeks we reach the point where Trump says “end the shutdown” and some state and local officials refuse, they’re going to be quite surprised to discover who the National Guard actually reports to.
Fortunately, I brought enough for everyone:
What better way to practice “social distancing” than with pictures of women who wouldn’t give you the time of day?
That last themed post produced a surprisingly high rate of day-to-day repetition in my Pixiv recommendations, so here’s a random sampling to stir things up.
Day 3 of the Zombie Apocalypse Lockdown ended with The Return Of The Porch Cat; he’d been gone for over a week, leading me to think he’d either been moved indoors at his other home(s) or gotten himself hurt. Nope, I found him on top of the grill outside the front door, looking for skritches and food, in that order. He received both, and if he’s out there again this morning, I may just spend the day sitting out there with him.
It’s either that or clean the house, watch movies, and catch pokémon.
The everybody-telecommute edition.
In other news, we’re fully rebooked for November in Japan, and ended up gaining a day in Tokyo. I’ve penciled in a day trip to Kamakura and Enoshima.
Today’s easy-to-assemble Pixiv tag is 剥ぎ取りたいブラ, “bra I want to tear off”. To be followed by “cops I want to be arrested by”, “lawyers I want to defend me”, and “prison guards who won’t make me cry like a little girl”.
Work-safety is, of course, dubious.