Macro Monday Is Full Of Pollen And Now You’re Sneezing

It is spring. The flowers are poppin’. It’s raining. I’m getting some nice waterdrop shots. Also my face is full of CONCRETE thanks to the DISCARDED SEX BITS of HORNY TREES. Or something. My allergies are having a lot of fun right now, is what I’m saying. In a social media metaphor, it’s like my sinuses went on Twitter to say they liked The Last Jedi or didn’t like Justice League, and now they’re grappling with endless waves of pollen trolls.

(Curiously, I had a tweet last week go hella viral — we’re talking 40,000 RTs at present, 136,000 ‘likes’ — and boy it brings some fascinatingly stupid people out of the woodwork. I may have to dissect what happened there on the blog this week sometime.)


Freshly announced — I’ll be a special guest at Hal-Con in Halifax, Nova Scotia, which is somewhere in the SEA-BRINED WILDS OF CANADA. I am told to expect a thing called a “donair,” so when I arrive my mouth will be open, hungry for this regional food. Which also I assume is just a remix of a doner-kebap? Which are amazing, so, if that’s true, count me the fuck in. Hal-Con is October 26-28th, so, hopefully I’ll see you there.

Let’s see? What else is going on?

There’s this mysterious tweet. Hm.

And that’s it, I think.

Here are more photos.



  • Me and my body, we had this deal, see? I wouldn’t grumble too much about being colorblind and, in return, my body would not react to airborne death packets like pollen and wheat grass and peanuts, which are not airborne as a rule, but which ARE death-y to more than a few folks.

    It was a long term, quiet, effective detente. Until, much like a tin pot despot or a Dark Lord of the Sith, my body has since decided to alter the terms of our agreement. Now that I’m **mumble**mid-forty-ish-plus**mumble* I’ve noticed that during periods where the trees and grass are splashing their funky sex dust across the landscape I now get increasing signs of allergies.

    It’s probably my fault. I bought those fancy schmancy color correcting sunglasses, so I may have violated the agreement, and addendum 8.3 of the Geneva convention. Despite the watering eyes and sniffling every 1.49 seconds, I could see well enough to plaster that super popular tweet across my little corner of the Internet. Folks were saying things like, “hey who is this smart and word-wise person who is .. holding, an axe? Oh my.” I would reply, “well, that is Chuck Wendig, of course, who actually writes books and a blog and goes to cons and things when he is not dropping pointy truth bombs on The Twitter”.

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