Breaking News Alert: Our Gracious Prince Has Found The Beautiful Young Woman Who Came Thrice To His Ball—once

Breaking News Alert: our gracious prince has found the beautiful young woman who came thrice to his ball—once in a dress shimmering like starlight, once in a dress luminous as the moon, and once in a dress as golden and radiant as the sun on a summer day—only to discover that she was a scullery maid working in his own kitchen! needless to say she has been executed

More Posts from Hygge-hag and Others

1 year ago

actually. that post about how its important to have weird kinky queer friends. i think the same is true of really every type of ostracized person but in particular i wanna point it out wrt mentally ill people.

if you watch a movie villainizing DID or schizophrenia or something, and you think, "hey, this seems sort of like its based on what my friend has and theyre just a chill person, why are they making my friends condition seem threatening?" thats good.

if you see someone use narcissist as a synonym for abuser and you think, "what, no, im friends with someone who has NPD and i know theyre a kind person, this isnt true at all," thats good.

if you hear politicians try to frame addicts as violent criminals who should be locked up and you think "no, my buddy sam is just sick, their withdrawals are really painful and they dont have a good support system, they shouldnt be locked up for that," thats good.

being able to counter ableist rhetoric with "i know from experience thats not how these people are" is a good thing. like yeah obviously dont make friends with mentally ill people just for brownie points but also try to make the conscious effort to be open to friendship with people who have stigmatized mental health issues. and maybe even more importantly, be someone who makes it clear to others that youre safe to be open about these things with, because chances are youre ALREADY friends with mentally ill people even if you dont realize it, because a lot of us with more demonized conditions try to hide those conditions out of fear, and it helps a lot to know our friends are allies - and then we might feel safe discussing our experiences, IF we want to, and in turn that can help you better understand the realities and diversities of our situations and be less susceptible to ableist rhetoric.


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1 year ago

The Turkey Story

So it’s 2001, and my family drives from fucking California and like three blizzards to get to Ohio for thanksgiving, becuase my grandparents are moving into a nursing home and it’s their last holiday in that house.  So its a bit bittersweet but ultimately a good thing.

Since it’s their last holiday there, the family pulls out all the stops when it comes to dinner, all the Russian desserts come out, as does the Lethal Bacon Mashed Potatoes and the horrible candied yams with the mini marshmallows dish because not all expressions of love are good, even if they are sincere.  In the spirit of going all-out, Uncle Bobby smokes a Turkey.  

Uncle Bobby started cooking as a boy scout by tossing foil-wrapped potatoes into a campfire and has been addicted since, and now has a hand-made smokehouse in the backyard where he makes various cured meats and other delights.  He seasons the turkey in the traditional manner, but he and grandpa have a shared passion for a spicier mesquite-style bird, so Bobby makes a Cornish Game Hen seasoned that way, for them.

Then Bobby has a Brilliant Idea.  He realizes that he can stuff the turkey (once it has been smoked) with regular stuffing, and there is still plenty of room for him to put the game hen inside THAT, and stuff the game hen becuase why not?  He confers with Mom, and she explains how to cut open the turkey so there’s  dramatic reveal as the stuffing and game hen come out.  It’s Genius.

Except, of course, that my Aunt Sue is attending, Uncle Cliff slouching after her.

So the day of the dinner, tensions are running a bit high, between the marathon cooking, the kids all being trapped indoors due to aforementioned blizzards, and Uncle Cliff deciding that the best way to amuse himself is by hiding from the adults in the basement, getting drunk and rambling about how various ethic groups were destroying America.  Being that I had close Muslim friends that were leaving the country becuase of 9/11, I was near tears from this nonsense and ready to fight a man roughly five times my size.  

Sue, for some reason, keeps coming down and defending him, or telling us we’re rotten children for ‘attacking’ him, becuase she Must Stand By Her Man, even if her man is a hefty bag of dog feces with an ugly mustache.

My sister eventually bolts upstairs to tattle and my grandfather limps down to the basement and brandishes his Hip-Bone Cane, hands rock-steady in spite of the Parkinson’s slowly taking over him.

“Firstly Cliff, It may not be my roof much longer but while you are under it you will be civil, or I’ll beat your skull in.  Also, dinner’s ready, everyone go wash up.”

We go upstairs and sit down, and do the traditional “Name one thing you’re thankful for” as the bread gets passed around the table, and things calm down a bit.  Bobby brings out the Turkey and everyone goes OOH becuase it’s really pretty, them Mom carves it open so that the stuffing spills out dramatically along with the game hen and there’s an appreciative gasp all around becuase it looks cool.

Only Sue KEEPS gasping, in utter horror, before getting up and clasping her hands to her face ala Edvard Munch and shrieks-

“OH MY GOD IT WAS PREGNANT!”

We all stare at Sue.  We all look back at the fully-dressed-cooked-and-stuffed birds that in no way had any internal organs in them or ever gave live birth. Then we all looked back at Sue, trying to figure out where to begin but since she’d been trying to justify Cliff’s behavior she was pretty much free-associating conspiracies and scandals now, and just kept going.

“IT WAS PREGNANT MY GOD WE’VE COMMITTED AN ABORTION WE’RE ALL GOING TO HELL FOR THIS, I’M SO SORRY JESUS-” She goes into full pearl-clutching gibbering horror at this point and falls back into her chair like it’s a Victorian fainting couch only it’s a shitty chair from the Eisenhower administration so it collapses and she slams into the floor, sobbing and kicking her feet like a toddler.

Everyone watched for a moment before my Mom sighs heavily and starts carving and serving the turkey while my grandmother mouths “she’s not coming back”.   

Cliff, reactions delayed by about six beers, finally notices his wife is on the floor and tries to pick her up, falls on his ass himself.  They are assisted by Dad, who is saintly patient man and less immune to this jacknapery at that point. I am stuffing dinner rolls into my face to keep from laughing at this grand spectacle and it’s not working.

“I CAN’T EAT IT, I REFUSE TO PARTAKE IN THIS BARBARISM-”  Sue begins but Dad puts on his best Kindly Father voice (he was heavily involved with the catholic church and even considered becoming a priest before getting drafted but that’s another story) and assures Sue that she need not eat, or even be in the room if she wants.  She nods, placated by being the center of attention again, and Dad goes in for the kill.

“I wouldn’t want you to go hungry.  Can I make you some Eggs?”

“That would be lovely.” Said Sue, joke flying over her head like a boeing 747.  I recall watching my grandmother nearly choke to death on the green beans over that, and everyone pointedly trying to avoid talking about anything poultry-related while Sue sat there and ate the most ironic scrambled eggs in the history of mankind.

Shortly thereafter, Cliff threw up in the sink and they went home, and the party got underway properly, with Grandpa raising a toast to Mom and Uncle Bobby “For marrying well, for a change” “Pregnant Turkey” has been an Ohioan thanksgiving staple since then.  I’ll see if I can hit Uncle Bobby up for instructions but if you decide to make it 1. you HAVE to shriek “OH MY GOD IT WAS PREGNANT” when you carve it open, or it’s not authentic and won’t taste as good 2. Share the pictures with me.

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1 year ago

Working on my novel and couldn’t figure out why it felt so empty. I didn’t have any filler. It was all 100% plot. The characters only interacted when necessary. I didn’t prattle on about the scenery or how the birds sounded. I had all my fuller stuff that I loved saved in another file because I “didn’t need it”.

Y’all, I knew this existed in TV shows but it didn’t hit me until this that everything is being whittled down. We are so starving for filler that we snap up anything. I unload all mine on Tumblr or keep it in a massive Google Docs. It SUCKS.

Honestly? Death to plot necessity. Revive filler. Revive unnecessary interactions. Revive just vibing with characters sometimes. I don’t want to just consume the plot and I don’t want to just create the plot either.


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1 year ago

the patron saint of worms that died on concrete


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1 year ago

you guys my priest just emailed the whole church to say that he saw wild plum blossoms blooming which means spring is on the way here in the PNW :')


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1 year ago

fantasy characters: “Geez”

me: who the fuck spread Christianity there


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1 year ago
Rewatching Again 😔... 🥺💕

rewatching again 😔... 🥺💕


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1 year ago

Witch things to add in your room, poor person edition

Fuck it Most of witchcraft people tell you to buy shit. So here's some stuff u can do for free

grab some sticks from the ground, bind them together in a shape you like, add intent (usually protection), hang it up

make a flower crown, add protection intent, dry it out, hang it up. protection spell and real ward. regularly recharge intent.

dry plants, set warding intent, hang them up.

crushed eggshells on your window sill to prevent bad energy.

wear a bandana or veil somewhere on your body, sometimes i use mine as belts, to protect from bad vibes.

paint your nails in the color meaning you want. mine are pink for self attraction rn

when you light up a candle always ask if theres a spirit or entity there, pyromancy skills can be learned through google, tumblr, and tiktok.

Regularly clean and rearrange your altar if you can't practice everyday, this keeos the space clean and shows entities around that even if ur not active, you're still a witch

A cup of water can be an offering to anyone, imagine being an entity and you can't have water at all for centuries??

If you have glasses, draw a sigil on them while you clean them (i usually wash mine with soap and water to make it extra clean ((and dry with paper towels)))

Give your wall art jobs. Sure they can be decorative, or they can be extra eyes to watch you while you sleep to make sure no one messes with you. (Ive had so much wall art fall in the middle of the night and turns out smth was trying to get in my room...)

If you have black-out/thick curtains, let the sun in!!! I keep them tied during the day so i can use natural light and ease up my electricity bill

Change ur bedsheets semi regularly, it doesn't need to be every week, but keep in mind bedbugs and other entities can get trapped there... or even try to get there to make your sleep unrestful.

If your room is a bio-hazard, at least make pathways so you can walk without injuring yourself.

Thats all i have for now <3 blessed be and fuck capitalism


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hygge-hag - your local pickle-faced, consumptive mary-jane 🦋
your local pickle-faced, consumptive mary-jane 🦋

"There, and I will live to tell the tale, when I've found the day to bid farewell...!" -- Ringmasters, Notre Dame Medley

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