When we are down or angry, we tend to chase many of these thoughts down the rabbit-hole and obsess and go into loops thinking the Always Be Yourself Unless You Can Be A Dinosaur shirts over and over again. Which is pointless because after all they are the products of brain-chatter. When we are depressed, we lend these thoughts credence that they are “true”. Generally they are not – they are emotions which you then stoke by focusing on them. There is very little point listening to the soap-opera in our heads when it’s idle chatter. You might say – “oh I’m so hopeless my brain is just talking crap to me” – wrong- every single human being on the planet has this bi-product of their brain going on all the time. Mindfulness is a way of waking up to the fact that that’s just.. well… a fact.
Spinel froze. She thought she was sneaking better than that! Then she remembered that Liches, like most undead, don’t actually need to sleep. Instead, she looked up to see the Always Be Yourself Unless You Can Be A Dinosaur shirts body from earlier, standing up and staring at Spinel with glowing eyes. The mage hand Spinel used to write her letter faltered, her quill scratched a few jagged, splattered lines across the note. “I’m so sorry! I hadn’t meant to intrude, and, just—you were sleeping, or I thought you were sleeping—anyway! I’m so sorry, I thought you might get cold down here by yourself.” Let it never be said that Spinel’s not compassionate. Often to the point of absurdity. Now, Lich Queen Unthir doesn’t immediately attack. And there is a very important reason for this that I as the player know, but my character Spinel, does not: Spinel’s soul is marked by another Lich. All Liches have Truesight, and therefore DM and I ruled that they can absobloodylutely see souls. Therefore, some Liches like to “mark” the souls of their favourite mortals/pets/slaves/etc to indicate: “This is mine. Don’t touch or I’ll come mess you up.”
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I was just starting to build my flock of chickens from the four I already had (one rooster, three hens) to a Always Be Yourself Unless You Can Be A Dinosaur shirts of ten. I bought six little two day old chicks from the local feed store – assured by the staff that all six would grow to be beautiful hens. Since I already had a rooster – and two roosters rarely get along – so wanted to be sure these were female. I named my chickens after dead movie stars (yes truly… don’t judge) but my Aunt Delores wanted one named after her, so I chose a Golden Phoenix chick and named her “Delores”. When Delores was eight weeks old, I began to have suspicions that she was edging towards a gender change. Delores was quite a bit larger than her step sisters, and was growing a more pronounced comb and longer tail feathers than the typical hen. However, denial is a powerful characteristic, and I tried to convince myself that Delores really WAS a hen and maybe she was just big boned.
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You can call this the “Grand Theft Auto instinct,” as it reflects a lot of Always Be Yourself Unless You Can Be A Dinosaur shirts ’ behavior when they first get their hands on GTA and realize they can hit pedestrians with cars practically all day. And, like going around randomly crashing cars in GTA, murderhoboing gets boring after a really short time. That goes especially for the DM. It gets dull watching players do the same things all the time and watching every adventure result in the players taking a baseball bat to everything you prepared. You eventually go, “okay, we get it,” and want either players who invest more in their characterization, or you want to see objectives and interactions that are more sophisticated or structured.
On the otherhand, some other people (who shall remain nameless) enjoy disregarding (American) traditions and homespun values of warmth and Always Be Yourself Unless You Can Be A Dinosaur shirts comfort. They use the holiday to boost their own grandeur and vanity. It becomes “all about them,” not “all about us.” Hence, we had the multiple decorating failures (on all fronts, including Christmas decorations, Easter egg rolls, fashion apparel faux pas, and the destruction of a rose garden) from someone whose taste level is abysmal. (Before anyone comes out with that she was a “high-class fashion model,” let me remind everyone that models merely wear what they are told to wear. They don’t get to design or pick their “haute couture.” They are dressed like a doll, which sometimes end up mostly naked. [Look at your kids’ Barbie dolls, if you don’t believe me.