This month is going to fly by, here’s some things to make sure you do now so you don’t wish you did when it’s too late:
-If you need stuff from online stores - buy it no later than next week. - If you bought new shoes, start breaking those puppies in now - try on all your outfits asap so you know what’s missing - if you don’t have a packing spreadsheet, I highly recommend one… make it asap. coordinate with your group - make sure you have all your travel docs and transportation checkups done now. -locate your Passport for those who need it. -EZ pass or other toll passes - make sure your registration, inspection, insurance etc is clean and renewed (where necessary) -oil change, tires are good and full, coolant, windshield wipers fluid - get your tent out and make sure you have all the pieces - (women) if you’re on bc that you control, plan your month so that you don’t have your period during forest
1 week out:
-get out cash while you’re out and about. easier than making a last minute bank trip on your drive. There are also not many banks nearby except local ones (chase is 1+ hour away)
-do a test pack of car if you’re worried about space
2 days out from your leave date:
-plug in all your power banks & chargers
-put water bottles in freezer if you’re doing that

• put travel docs, wristbands, cash etc either in your (locked) glovebox or inside the thing you never leave home without (backpack, purse, etc) make sure it’s super easy accessible once you’re en route

A few miscellaneous things I wish I’d done sooner that I don’t see mentioned here often:

• remove all unnecessary packaging at home. all tags, boxes, plastic wraps. Saves you packing room and reduces waste on site.
  
• (for women) bring a tshirt dress / towel dress or something super easy to wear to and from showers. also hair towel. it’s incredibly humid and wet in there. not ideal dressing conditions. Plus it makes the line move faster for everyone
  
• weather is unpredictable but it’s gonna be hot most likely. it’s also the longest days of the year and there is not a lot of shade at the stages. please wear sun protection. also those cooling towels are legit. highly recommend
  
• bring multiple pairs of PJs. I regret not doing this every year by day 3
  
• camp shoes. I have those foam slides 10/10
  

see y’all there xoxo

Previous/
The wagons or tanks rolled through the gate in a caravan that was more akin to a carnival than a group of tradesmen; all the wizards with their pointed hats were shaped magnificently against the browns and grays, some wore white porcelain dramedy masks beneath headwear as dark as pipe resin, men and women and those between—as that was common from where they hailed. Their company was perhaps forty and their mules and mares were thirsty and were led to troughs to idle while the wizards removed goods from their wagons or tanks and although it was not a spectacle for them to arrive within Golgotha’s walls, it was something still and the citizens gathered to greet whatever wizards they might know but mostly perhaps to whisper rumors on them. The wizards seemed a taller folk, but that was because of the hats, and they seemed wider too, but that was for the robes they adorned with costume jewelry, trinkets, or fingernail-sized lanterns which contained magical properties hung off their clothes as ornaments (some metal and other crudely wooden). I never knew a people that could trek the wastes in that time as well as me till I knew them.
Boss Maron was there at the gates with his wall men, hollering—shouting really, “The Whores of Babylon have come again!” And the bells signaled from atop the highest tower over the hall of Bosses and I met the front square with a morning headache and a cigarette. The Boss sheriff was clothed, cowboy hat pulled tightly to his ears, and he waltzed through the square, inspecting the new arrivals with his crotch out in front of him as he moved in a swagger like a cup of shifted water. Morning sunlight crested the wall to reflect on the pistol in his holster as it did on the star pin of his hat.
Among them, there was only one wizard I cared to see. Their name was Suzanne.
The hanged bodies of the men remained on the wall, dead and stiff and shifting to the little wind there was.
The square had filled with carts (some drawn by animals and others pushed on oil), and even if it were not for the bells which signaled their arrival, I’d have surely known their presence for the clatter of their metal engines.
“Well goddamn!” said Maron while examining a wizard, “What’s that you’ve got on your legs?”
The wizard, a young woman in plain pants wore a set of leg braces and whenever she moved, she did so in shifting her hips around. “Braces,” she said.
“What’s it for? Or is it some of your all’s secret whodo?”
“I’ve got bad legs. The braces help.” She said plainly, attempting to angle herself straight like a stick against one of the traveling party’s wagons.
“Bad legs?” Boss Maron’s expression was incredulous. “Who has bad legs? What sort of nonsense is it? If a lady like you’s made it this far in life with bad legs, then someone’s done you a disservice.”
She looked on questioningly while the other wizards continued with their unpacking or their conversating—whether it be amongst themselves or with the freckle-spaced citizens in the square.
“How are you to outrun trouble when you’ve got them?” He nodded at the young woman’s legs.
“I don’t.” Her face was red either because of the sun or because of the scrutiny. “I’m just bow-legged.”
“Damn,” he shook his head, “Well how much you want for one of them?”
“One of my braces?”
“Yeah. All I want’s the one anyway.”
“I need both of them.”
“C’mon. You wouldn’t notice just one missing. I mean, you’ve got a spare right next to it.”
Upon noticing a robed figure I recognized by the animals at the troughs, I moved to them instead and let Maron’s conversation fall to the wayside. The chatter of the crowd was wild and startled words came as a wizard exposed their collection of tonics to passersby.
“Suzanne,” I said.
The figure turned to face me, moving their head to look away from a mare they’d been brushing to expose one of those white porcelain masks.
I knew it and could not contain a smile.
“Harlan?” asked the figure. The mask on its face was split in the middle with hinges on either side and they opened it to show their face; it was Suzanne. They’d grown some hair around their throat and wore lipstick on their lips and dyes on their eyes.
“It’s good to see you.” I pushed myself into a hug with them and I could smell the travel off them but didn’t care.
They shifted timidly before hugging me back and I pretended not to notice. Once we’d separated, I looked on Suzanne’s face again and they were looking on at the hanging men on the wall. “Again?” they asked.
I nodded and shot a look towards the Boss across the way.
“What justice?” they asked no one while shaking their head.
Trying an answer, I said, “Justice is something man made, I think. I’ll leave men to men and the rest to God.”
“God.” Suzanne nodded glumly then shook their head. “Which one?”
I laughed a good laugh that felt real but nervous too then kicked the ground and took the last drag off my cigarette before chucking it to the ground. “What’s brought you here?”
Suzanne answered plainly. “We took a long time east out near Pittsburgh.” Their eyes scanned the buildings further on from the square. “The people there are worse than here, it seems. At least you still have your walls.”
“Pittsburgh’s fallen?”
They frowned. “Not completely. They’ve mostly gone underground. A skitterbug infestation caused a plague directly before an attack of proportions I’ve yet seen.” Suzanne’s brow furrowed. “It was awful.” The words hung in the air for a moment. “But we’re here now and thought we’d stop for a rest and some guns and ammo before returning to Babylon. We’ve brought some medicines to trade.”
I learned from my friend that Pittsburgh’s infrastructure and fortifications were decimated in an attack the wizards only caught second-hand and the survivors—holed away in the tunnels beneath Pittsburgh—told of how the demons ran the walls once their reserves were low.
Then the wizards gathered there began unpacking books, some scrolls, and there were medicines too and some of the Bosses other than Maron (he pushed his harassment of the young wizard with leg braces) graced us there with their presence as they came on and began to pick across the goods, haggling prices. Boss Frank was there, and he stood before a wizard by a tank with a wooden table of jars—capped elixirs of varying colors—he grew increasingly frustrated with their selection and took on in his braggadocious way, speaking of numbers. A few of the idle wizards leaned against carts or even took across town and a small group of them had gathered for a quick show near the guard posts, playing instruments (strings over the vocals of “In My Life”) and there in the front of them was a young wizard man that had removed his hat to show how he played with fire flames off his hands—it was a sideshow play—and the citizens wore variations of bemusement or disgust. The children of Golgotha, all dirty faced with sprigs of hair jutting about from their morning’s waking, seemed totally bewildered in the joy of song and clapped their hands or shook their hips all with smiles.
I stuffed my hands in my jacket and prodded Suzanne, “What’s with the plague? I mean, was it contained? None of your lot got sick, did they?”
Suzanne scoffed, perhaps a little pridefully, “No. I wouldn’t worry about that.” They patted a nearby mule then withdrew a brush and moved it across its thin coat before looking over its hooves. “I’ve brought you some books I found out that way though. You still read?”
I nodded.
“Don’t expect any of that fiction. The only ones I’ve found recently are old pamphlets or medical texts.” Suzanne paused and smiled, returning the animal brush to their robes, “You haven’t happened upon anything that might interest me, have you?”
Their shown teeth were infectious. “Mayhap. I’d need you to come back to my place so I could give them to you.” An awkward pause followed and the roar of the still accumulating crowd overtook the space between us before I continued. “Mostly interesting containers and a few flecks of gold I took from some old computers—they’ve been waitin’ on you for weeks now. I got some parchment that might be of use to you too. You can take what you need as always.”
“How about we get some food? I’m famished. Riding through the night takes its toll.”
Me and Suzanne took from the square up a narrow route that led through residences where the lower levels had their curtains drawn and then we took stairs toward balconies and catwalks configured from reinforced metal; we spoke as we went and a few odd glances from passersby met the wizard as we did.
“The tide on the east is rising again,” said Suzanne.
“Worse than before?”
“Worse than before.”
“God, I don’t think I’ve seen the ocean for a decade or more.” I slid my hand along the railing once we came to what was essentially my front porch; it was a perch among the catwalks that cut against the domicile where I shared walls with others on three sides and we stopped there outside my door. “We saw a dragon only a few days ago.”
Suzanne’s interest seemed piqued. “A dragon? And what direction was it traveling?”
“Well,” I craned over the railing, looking down the narrow walkway that separated my building and the one across the way; I couldn’t see the front square from outside my home, but I could still just make out the music echoing from that direction, “Could’ve been north or west. I was preoccupied, but I wouldn’t worry much. The wall men gave it a pretty good thrashing before it took off.”
“Hmm.”
“So, the ocean? It’s rising, huh?”
They joined me there on railing, supporting themselves against their forearms. “It is. Faster than ever. Some bad magic’s taken the water. I imagine by the end of the year Pittsburgh will be under it. There’s something bad coming. You might call it intuition if you want, but I know it’s coming. Something bad. Revelations bad. There comes a time when even those of us forsaken are brought worse.”
“Bah!” I couldn’t help it, “John thought it was the end times while he wrote the damn thing. And what about all the other books? Hm?”
Suzanne put up their hands. “I didn’t mean it like that at all. You know I’m only the mildest scholar on the topic.”
“Anyway. You’d better not start having visions. Got enough to worry about as is.” I’d not realized my shoulders were tense until their hand touched me, and I flinched.
“You’ve a bruise around your neck. Care to elaborate there?”
I shook my head. “Got into a fight.”
Suzanne laughed, removed their pointed hat and playfully put it on my head. “C’mon. Cook me something. You might not know a thing about spices, but your cooking’s always tasted better.”
We took through my door to my small single room where simple amenities awaited and an ancient, decommissioned pump-shotgun hung on the wall over the bed. “That’s just ‘cause you ain’t the one laboring over it.”
Across a meal of potato cakes and toasted bread, we drank coffee until I broke into the liquor to spice my coffee and alleviate my hangover, and we shared the drink and Suzanne took to wash in the sink while I smoked outside on the overlook. Upon returning to the room, I saw them there with a wet rag stuffed beneath an armpit and they were beautiful caught without robes, frame cast in sunglow through the crack in my doorway. In a moment, our hands glided around one another in a scramble of arms at the middle point between us and we took to bed for a while.
Come midday, we remained there, staring at the ceiling, chests bare, and blanket strewn across our lower halves.
“You’re going gray,” said Suzanne.
“You’re getting old too, ya’know.”
“Yes.”
“How long did you say you’ll be staying?” I asked while trying to mask whatever excitement may be present.
“Few days. Once we’ve enough ammunition.” They traced their index finger along my ear lobe.
“Stay.” I offered.
They frowned. “Come.”
“I did already.”
They gave me a light shove and cut their eyes at me. Hazel. How good that color was. “Really. What keeps you here?”
“Things.” I pushed up in the bed to sit, finagling my underwear from the jeans on the floor.
“I wish you would.”
“I’m no wizard.”
“You don’t need to be.”
“Maybe there will come a time when I take you up on that offer. Who knows?” I slid into the drawers.
“Is it Maron?” they asked, “I don’t know your fascination with him. He’s the worst combination cruel and dumb I’ve seen.”
“Like an animal.” I nodded. “Like something real bad’s wrong with him. But no. He’s not my fascination.” Lying was always hard with them. “I worry about this place. I wouldn’t do the things I do if I didn’t. What if I were to leave it and then it turns out like Pittsburgh.”
“Oh, you’re an expert in plagues now?”
“No,” I scoffed, “I guess it’s just a place that weighs on my conscious.” I went to sit on the bed alongside them.
“You hate it here. I can see it more on your face every time we meet.”
“That I do. Call it an investment dilemma. I’ve put time in it, and I want it to be well.”
“That doesn’t sound like you.”
I caught Suzanne’s face there, staring up from the flat pillow, flustered. My reasoning was hard, but I continued, “There is one thing I should undo before I leave here. It’s a long time coming, and I don’t know if I can. But it’s important,” upon seeing their quizzical expression, I added, “And it is secret.”
“I wish you’d come with us. You’d be welcome.”
“I’ll visit Babylon sometime next month. I promise.”
“You shouldn’t call it that. I don’t like it when you call it that.” The wizards never called their home Babylon; that was a name conjured by the many religious fanatics that considered their magic evil (even if they did trade with the ‘heretics’ from time to time). The name they’d given their own city of medicine was Alexandria; it was fitting for I’d seen their expansive libraries and could become lost in them easily.
“Fine. I’ll be there.” I squeezed their hand in mine. “I’ll miss you once you’ve gone.”
“Don’t get sappy,” they said before planting a kiss on my forehead.
The day went and then the next and another and the wizards packed their belongings. No more music for Golgotha, only quiet agony. As Suzanne said, they’d left me a few books and I’d given away my parchment, jars, and gold. While they were in town, I even was able to snag a few more bottles of their famous wizard liquor along with a few vials of medicine—always good to have whenever I set foot beyond the walls or when someone within might need it.
There came a time finally—as every time it does—where I watched the caravan, with gray smoke clouds off the engines, take on north first where there was an opening wide enough in the ruins to accommodate vehicles, then it hooked around a wide bend that took them west then their black shapes against the red morning skyline disappeared like fading ink as their magic cloaked them entirely. I wished them well, but at the moment of dissipation, I felt an urge to leap from the top of the wall, charge across the field, scream that I was coming and scream it loud enough that I’d hurt myself. I think I just loved—though I never said it aloud and neither did they—and love is a bad thing more often than it is good, for the longing it leaves in its absence drives a person mad and I did not want to be mad; the feeling burst from me quietly there on the wall while I was flanked on either side by guards. I was sure all along the way they went that I could just make out Suzanne among them; that was probably a fault in my vision, but I imagined they were casting glances back, hoping to hold me as strongly as I wished to hold them. I went to the streets of Golgotha where the town quieted from the previous days’ engagements with the wizards.
Normal came and settled and then came chanting from Lady as she moved through sullen quiet streets. She was so far off that I was not sure it was her at all and then came the lines as she drew nearer by the hydroponics towers, and she shouted them vigorously and shook her fist above the air and held a staff with a swinging lantern of incense in her opposite hand, partly for ceremony and partly for support. The words came harshly, gravelly:
“They called to the mountains and to the rocks, fall on us and hide us from the face of him who sits on the throne and from the wrath of the Lamb! For the great day of their wrath has come, and who can withstand it?”
“The lamb will be your shepherd. He will guide you. Hallelujah! He will lead you to the springs of living water and wipe away every tear!”
“Many will be purified, made spotless and refined, but the wicked will continue to be wicked. None of the wicked will understand, but those who are wise will understand! Do not be tempted by the deviousness of the whorish Babylonians for all the nations have drunk the maddening wine of her adulteries. The kings of the earth committed adultery with her, and the merchants of the earth grew rich from her excessive luxuries.”
A person, among the catwalks, shouted down at Lady, “Shut-the-fuck-up!”
I watched her come fully down the avenue as she dodged a thrown egg from somewhere unseen, then dashed away toward an offshoot alley to hide somewhere, incense lantern smoking, clanging against her back while she screeched off more scripture from memory. After she was long gone, I moved to the spot where the egg was, rubbed it into dirt with the sole of my boot and looked up through the spiderweb network of catwalks overhead; there was no one.
Without a thing keeping me, I took off the following day, and upon meeting the gates, Maron was there and I could see he was the proud owner of a used leg brace; he grinned upon seeing me, patting his mustache down with his forefinger and thumb.
“Whatcha’ think?” He motioned to his left leg. “It’s a bit of a conversation starter, ain’t it?”
“Get your boys to open the gate, I’m going out.”
He shook his head. “Won’t find anything out there. It’s all dirt and rubble, you know.”
“Just open it.”
“You know what?” He cut his eyes at me. “There’s gonna’ come a day when you won’t be so able bodied or maybe the Bosses won’t like you coming and going as you please.”
I inhaled heavily then let it go. “Now can’t we skip to the end where you acquiesce to my request?”
“Words words words you’ve got. You’ve got a lot of words. Acquiesce. Psshaw.” Boss Maron waved for the guards to open the gate and they did, and I stepped by him, and he spit somewhere behind me before I heard him hobble around with his single leg brace.
The path was clear and open on all sides and in no time, I’d taken across the field to the east and found myself on the edge of the ruins where things stank, and I was free from no other thought than to live. Creeping hot overcame me and brought my hair to my forehead and I holed off in a shadow to drank from my gourd before continuing. The sun was red in the sky in the places where I could see sky from around the black shadows of towering structures. I ducked beneath an old shop counter when I heard the skittering of fart heads and pulled a sleeve to kill the scent of their chlorine breath.
Once they’d gone, I pulled through the wreckage more and more till I came upon the markings for an old safehouse in the back office of a garage I’d not been to in a while. What were my intentions? Was I going to go all the way to the coast? Throw myself into those bad magic waters? There’s a thing they don’t teach you in religion. They prattle all day to do this or that and they say that Hell awaits sinners or Hades or maybe its in layers or circles or what have you. They’ll tell you about the places and they’ll say that if you take life into your own hands, you end in Hell, but what’s a person to do when those creeping intrusions come along—the ones that call to a person in the darkness, the ones where they tempt you to jump from a high place or there’s always a gun or a poison. Maybe a person could bribe another to do it for them. Where do they end up then? What are you supposed to do to stave off those thoughts? Should a person contend such melancholies with prayer? That did not seem helpful. What is the soulless to do without the promise of those pearly gates anyway?
Anyway, I took on past the safehouse and found a utility hall in the side of a tall industrial building just beyond a partially erect chain link fence. The wall was opened up like a cracked shell from years of standing alone, and after ducking through there, I found some old matches in a drawer, plastic gas cans whose contents had long since congealed within; I kicked them (not that I expected anything more). Moving further down the wide hallway, there were shelves of dusty tools, and I took some hammers and knives (cheapo stuff).
Further still down the hall, there was a staircase, and I took it quietly; the stone stairs made hardly a sound against the bottoms of my boots, and I took the stairs more quickly till I was out of breath and caught myself on a landing where I supped silent air before rushing further up the stairs. An old metallic cabinet or console—I couldn’t make it out—lay strewn across the steps to the second-highest floor and I climbed over it before coming to the building’s roof access. Upon coming to the door with a metal push bar across its middle, I gave it a shove and it did not budge but a minor clink and I took a moment to collect myself before rummaging through my gear.
Slung through a loop on the inside of my pack was a short prybar that was so worn around its tooth it was more rounded than an edge; I shimmied the piece of metal into the spot where the door latched into the way and began crimping the spot apart, trying all the while to maintain a relative quiet in the dead ruins. Once I’d bent away at the door for a few moments, I elevated my body weight at an awkward angle to pop the door free and it did so, half open, with a rusty screech that forced a long pause from me; I stood there by the newly opened doorway for a full minute, holding the prybar, holding my breath. Upon hearing nothing in response to the noise of the door, I slid the tool into my pack and slipped through the threshold.
The flat roof of the industrial building sloped to one corner—where the opening in the wall of the first floor was—and sitting there in the middle of an open platform was an old helicopter, blades half torn away or rusted off and the remaining slanted from the top of the old vehicle, touching the platform it sat upon. The roof access looked like a little square house atop the flat headed structure and around the side of the access, I found an old corpse (entirely bones) wrapped in black plastic-like armor, the white dry fingers laid across its lap, several digits gone and its hollow eye holes staring off into the sky with a permanent smile. I moved to the thing that hadn’t been human in a long time and prodded it; the skeleton slumped to the side and looked on the ground by its shoes. How long had it been staring at the sky and how long had it been waiting for me to come and change its dead visage?
I moved to the edge of the building, to the corner where the building sloped and looked off the edge to the ground below; all was quiet, and nothing moved save the shadows’ stalwart creep across the ground. Examining from above, I could see the opening I’d climbed through and beneath my shifting feet, I felt the ground give a little; timidly, I angled more forward and for a moment I thought I knew why I’d gone up there in the first place. Suddenly six-stories felt high. The urge to jump came. Perhaps on the way down, I’d have just a blink to convince myself I’d slipped.
“Hey!” A shout from somewhere down below came from the direction I’d come from. I shook my head as it felt as though it was a ghost echo, a noise that wasn’t. Then it came again, “Hey!”
I squinted my eyes and there in the crumbled road below, there was a human I didn’t initially recognize; it was only after the figure tumbled through the remains of the chain link fence that I recognized it as Dave. I blinked.
Out of breath, he angled over to the opening at the base of the structure and called up at me, “Hey! I see you up there!”
Whisper-yelling, I cupped my hands, “Shutup!”
I took back to the stairs, and he hollered after, “Where you going?”
With reckless abandon, I took the stairs many at a time, leapt the cabinet on the stairs, scrambling while also reaching for the prybar I’d put away. I held the cold metal in my hand and charged toward the industrial storage hallway where I could see him silhouetted in the frame of the crumbled opening.
His chest heaved and he wiped at his brow; slung across his shoulder was a small supply bag and worn like a necklace was a pair of binoculars. “God, you move fast. Like a fuckin’ cockroach in light.” His eyes shifted from my face to the prybar in my hand as I approached him.
Standing within the echoey hallway, I lifted the weapon and pointed it at him. “What’d you follow me for?”
“You wouldn’t use that on me.” He took his eyes from the prybar. “I don’t think you would anyway. You might be shady, Harlan, but I don’t take you as a stone-cold murderer.”
“You take me wrong,” I said.
“Maybe.” He seemed to think on it a moment. “You wouldn’t?”
“If you’ve given away my position to those things, I might.”
“Lots of bluster.” Dave offered an incredibly forced smile, and I could see just from the little shine of the sun in the opening that his eye had blacked but remained functional. “I been watching you.”
“Oh?”
He nodded. “I snuck out after you.”
“You ought to go back.”
“You ought to just listen. There ain’t a thing back there for me.”
“I don’t care.” The sharpness in my voice felt good. “I don’t need some sorry sack sneaking up on me when I’m mindin’ my own.”
A quiet laugh. “There’s nothing there for me. I been farming all my life and if I die,” he shrugged, “So be it.”
“Idiot. Fuckin’ idiot.”
“You manage out here! Wizards can too!”
“Wizards have magic.”
“You got some of that?”
I lowered the crowbar.
“We’ve got to stop starting our conversations with fights.” He paused and moved into the shadowy hallway of the building before perching in a half-sit half-lean against the wall near me. “I never was violent anyway, so if you want to hit me with that then do it.”
“Hmm.”
His shirt clung to him, sweat thick and dark on his chest and pits. “Goddamn you move fast.”
“You should wear a jacket or something. Long sleeves keep the sun off and a thicker material gives you a modicum of protection.” I took to squatting too, maintaining ample distance betwixt us. “A hat helps too, but I’m always losing hats.” I chewed on my tongue while mulling over whether I should leave him.
“Are you going to try and slink away while I’m not looking?”
I blinked. “No.”
“Liar.” He took a healthy gulp from his water gourd then wiped his mouth. “East is the ocean?”
I nodded.
“Is it far?”
I nodded. “For you.”
Dave sighed. “Thank you.”
“For?”
“Telling me.”
“Okay.”
“You ever have any kids?”
I shook my head.
“It’s somethin’. Henry had so much energy—especially when he was little—there was times I didn’t think he’d ever settle down.”
“What are you doing out here?” I asked.
“Helen told me she was the same way when she was his age. She had energy too. I feel so tired.”
“Dave. What the fuck are you doing out here? Why’d you follow me?”
He took one last swallow from his gourd before shoving it into his pack. “I wanted to talk to you about killin’ the Bosses.”
I laughed into my hand. “That’s—that’s a thought.”
“I mean it.” His stare was like pinpricks.
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Hi, after some research I came up with an idea on how to use concentrated solar power to pyrolyse plastic waste. Here's the schematic:
https://i.imgur.com/yIvDlFf.jpeg
How it works:
First, a big mirror concentrates sun rays onto the reactor, heating it up to around 450 Celcius / 842 Fahrenheit. It triggers the pyrolysis of the plastic that we're putting from the upper part of the reactor. Then we send the vapor to a condenser / heat exchanger where the hydrocarbons form crude oil. The heavier fuels stay in liquid form and the lighter ones stay in gas form to be sent back to the reactor to be burned and support the pyrolysis reaction. In that way the reactor is heated from all sides (mainly 2 but the heat should spread out depending on the design). From one side the concentrated sun heats up the reactor, and from the other the burning gas which didn't condense. To top it all off, we can use the heat from the condenser for various thing (electricity production for example).
The mirror and gas burned could be constructed in way where they are one unit. The mirror could be turning around to face the sun from a better angle, and the gas burner could rotate along with it so the reactor is always heated up from both sides. This might require the reactor to be in an oval shape because the mirror could sometimes go not only left and right, but up and down.
The heat exchanger and the condenser might have to be two separate parts in this system, I'm not sure about the engineering aspect of that section.
Pros:
-relative control of the temperature (when the sun goes away, we could increase the gas flow to maintain the temperature), -free pyrolysis material - plastic waste is something we're trying to get rid off. If we don't pay for the transport, the plastic is completely free (maybe except for the necessary cleaning and shredding, but that shouldn't be too expensive), -the system maintains itself - aside of liquid fuel production, we're collecting a steady gas base, which could be used for maintaining the proccess (like I mentioned above), electricity production to keep the system running or to create a separate gas-only paralysis reactor (this could probably only work with multiple units like this connected in one system). We also have the heat from the heat exchanger, which also could power some generators, -we only need a temperature around 450 Celsius (at that temperature plastic gets pyrolised) which shouldn't be hard to achieve, even using the sun. Coal or wood pyrolysis / gasification would be way harder, because they require at least double that temperature, -not many real operating costs - if we use the heat from the pyrolysis vapor or the gas to produce electricity, the proccess should be quite profitable (according to some research I made, the conversion rate in plastic pyrolysis is about 80% [for every 1 kg of plastic we get 0,8 kg of oil]).
Cons:
-the sun is unreliable, -maintanance could be problematic due to a lot of electronic parts,
What do you guys think of this setup? Could it work in real life? What are the biggest drawbacks and cons that I missed?

Alright, apologies for the delays, but we're back now! Gonna keep trying for Tuesday mornings, and hopefully the post notifications will start working soon.
[First] - [Prev]
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Memory Transcription Subject: Ensign Sifal, Arxur Dominion Fleet
Date [standardized human time]: October 18, 2136
“Oysters are a local delicacy here in New York,” said David, gesturing towards the little molluscs in the spread. “Long before we were called the Big Apple, New York used to be called the Big Oyster. We’re on a major estuary, so these little guys used to be everywhere before environmental damage and overfishing tanked their numbers in the early 20th century. Thanks to the work of a few grassroots organizations, their population was on the upswing again until the recent, ah, irradiation incident.” David looked bemused. “What’s the radiation shielding efficacy of water again?”
“Halved per seven centimeters,” I rattled off offhandedly, hoping my measurements would translate to something he recognized. David held his hands approximately the correct distance apart to visualize it, and grimaced. I guess oysters live in the shallows.
I poked the little pinkish tan creature with a claw. It squished slightly. “Hey, are these still alive?” It looked whole in any event, minus the top half of its shell. It smelled lovely.
David blinked. “I think they are, technically?”
My eyes lit up. “I’m impressed! All this talk about pampering your prey, and then this? You Terrans didn’t seem like the type to eat live food.”
David’s eyes went wide. “They, uh, don’t really have a central nervous system.”
“So more the exception than the rule,” I mused. Even when the humans let their instincts out, they picked targets that felt it the least. “I suppose you really do tend to actively shy away from cruelty.” David shrugged, and I picked up one of the oysters. “Any other fun oyster facts I should know?”
David considered for a moment. “I dunno. I suppose oysters are traditionally considered aphrodisiacs?”
I froze with the creature halfway to my mouth, and stared at David incredulously. That was an unexpected turn. Why was he feeding me an aphrodisiac? We weren’t the same species. What was I meant to infer from this? Humans seemed happy to look for friendship and companionship outside of their species; were they inclined to go further, given the chance? I certainly wasn’t. What a bizarre notion! I mean, alright, I had to confess that I was at least curious, but that wasn’t the same type of interest. It was intellectual, rather than instinctual. But barring the sudden establishment of an alliance and a cultural exchange, I was probably leaving forever within the next hour or so. Given the time constraints, our current conversation was more than adequate to sate my curiosity.
I hoped I wasn’t reading too many layers deep into casual conversation again, but I had to decline politely. “Listen, David, you’re a very interesting man, but I can’t imagine making you and I work.”
This got a surprisingly good-natured sounding laugh out of the two scouts, and it was directly mostly at David. Alright, lucky me! It looked like I’d misread the conversation, but they thought I’d made a passable joke. No reason to disabuse them of that notion. I had to take my social victories where I could find them.
“A terrible shame, but I’ll just have to carry on somehow,” said David, smiling and trying to play it off as humor as well. “Frankly, I’m just surprised the Arxur seem to be this relaxed about same-sex relationships. Took us a while to figure that one out.”
Now I was confused again. “Arxur don’t really do… relationships,” I pointed out. “Also, I’m sorry, I thought you were male?”
David looked taken aback. “I… I am.”
“Then we’re not the same sex,” I said.
Alright, now everyone was staring at me like I’d made a social faux pas.
“I’m sorry,” David said slowly, “but I don’t think I ever asked you which gendered pronouns, if any, you preferred.”
“She and her,” I said, even more confused. “I thought it was obvious.”
“No part of that was obvious!” shouted Charmaine.
“My apologies,” I said in my best amused monotone. “I’ll try to display more sexual dimorphism in the future.” I let my eyes briefly flick down to where the female Terran scout’s shape differed from her male colleague. “Shall I ask my armor quartermaster for a padded breastplate?”
David aggressively swatted at the air for silence, while Charmaine growled offense at the word “padded” in particular for reasons unknown to me. David had a natural demeanor of a respected elder that the scouts seemed to pick up on and defer to. I wasn’t quite sure why; he barely looked older than the soldiers and I. “I apologize,” the chef said. “I tend to pride myself on my knowledge of as many topics as I can find, but I find myself coming up a bit short on the subject of herpetology.” That translated to the study of reptiles and then also amphibians? Why would those two be grouped? Even David seemed suddenly stiff on the subject. “I also can’t imagine that you folks have the same gender roles that we do,” David continued.
“The same what?” I asked. The term had barely translated.
“Gender roles?” he repeated. “Like… what’s expected of you by society based on your gender?”
I still didn’t follow. “I’m sorry, is this a mammal thing?” I guessed. “Half of you have to waddle around vulnerable for a whole gestation period, and now you’re grappling with second-order effects on your culture?”
David considered this. “That’s… hrm. That’s not entirely accurate, but not entirely inaccurate either?” He had a brief moment of gesticulating like he was reading an invisible book on the ceiling; he seemed to do that anytime he was trying to remember something. “I don’t think that’s generally true with other mammalian predators, at least. Like, with more solitary predators, the mothers often need to be strong enough to hunt and fight on her own, but humans aren’t solitary. It all gets really muddled when you take into account how much of human behavior is dependent on the assumption of group dynamics.” David shook his head. “I dunno, this isn’t really my area of expertise. So, what, the Arxur just…?”
I shrugged. “Arxur are Arxur. Around half of us can lay eggs. The end.” I took a sip of water, and David topped it back up from a bottle without comment. “Hatchlings are raised by whichever relatives feel like it, or else by state-sponsored boarding schools. I was raised by my father’s sister, who had a knack for training difficult children.” I idly scratched at an old scar on my left arm. “Her lessons were… useful.”
This was beginning to dredge up memories, so I reached for my oyster again. “Alright, may I continue? This isn’t going to start stirring any weird urges in me, is it?”
“Eh, probably not,” said David. “Certainly not enough to bring you around on… God, what do I look like to you? A guy who’s squishy with small teeth?”
“Hm,” I said by way of noncommittal half-agreement. There was no need to insult him about it. I popped the oyster into my mouth. I was honestly disappointed. It had a satisfying crunch to it, I supposed, but it mostly tasted like chalk. There was maybe a hint of some nice flavor in the middle, but I could hardly notice it over the taste of the shell.
David’s eyes were wide. “I… I’m sorry, I should have clarified that we don’t eat the shells.” He showed off his puny teeth. Like most humans, his fangs were millimeters away from fully vestigial. “Don’t think I could if I wanted to. The meat’s detached. You can just slide it with the juices right into your mouth. Try again?”
Only moderately deterred by my error, I picked up another oyster, held it like a small cup, and drank the creature. Alright, now we were getting somewhere! The briny taste of the sea added a natural seasoning of salt to an intensely savory morsel. It had a lovely chew to it as well, as the creature came apart in my maw. I could see why humans considered oysters delicious enough to compromise their morals over.
“Fantastic,” I said. I wanted more, but I thought I’d try the other options first. The next item was a shrimp cocktail. “Now, I see this one also has a shell?”
David nodded. “Thin and chitinous, but I still don’t recommend it.” He showed me a picture of a small insectoid creature. “We remove the heads and limbs of the shrimp before serving, but the shells are sometimes left on to be peeled at the table.”
My claws made short work of the little creature’s meager defenses, and I tossed it in my maw whole. This one seemed lightly cooked, but I didn’t mind too much. The flesh was a touch rubbery, but came apart so easily that it nearly felt stringy. It had a slight off-taste that was almost gamey, but grew on me. I dipped a second in a reddish condiment to the side. It was acrid and bitter, to the point where it overpowered the shrimp’s flavor. It was refreshing, but didn’t quite seem to match the dish by my estimate. “Cocktail sauce,” said David, making note of my facial expression. “Traditional, but not my first pick either. Try the white sauce? That’s a homemade garlic and herb aioli. Matches most crustaceans nicely.”
He wasn’t wrong. The aioli was much less tangy, and complemented the shrimp without overpowering it. The garlic and herbs added more flavor notes to harmonize around the gamey taste of the meat, and it added some much-needed fat to what was otherwise a fairly lean bit of meat. “This is better,” I agreed.
Finally, there was a dish of… “Tuna tartare,” David repeated. “It’s a raw fish, lightly seasoned, and chopped to make it easier to chew.” He flashed his teeth again. I flashed mine back. He blinked.
The small cubed pieces of fish were an incredible shade of dark red, and almost translucent in spots. It looked like red meat, or maybe gemstones. “What did you add to make it this color?” I hoped it wasn’t fruit juice.
“Oh, nothing for color,” said David. “Touch of soy sauce, little sesame oil, some spices, splash of vinegar. I’d normally add something for sweetness, but I’m gonna hold off on serving you sugar substitutes until I know what’s safe.” He pulled up a picture of a fairly large scaled fish, gutted and hanging from a hook. The inside was ruby red. “But yeah, no, tuna flesh just looks that color.”
“I’ve never heard of a fish with red meat on it before,” I said, “but after that pink one, I suppose it’s hardly the oddest thing I’ve seen today.”
David shrugged. “Eh, I’m just doing simple fare today,” he said. “Basic Earth foods. None of my usual trickery.”
I tilted my head, confused. “Trickery?”
David sighed. “I normally do a lot of, uh, molecular gastronomy. Dishes that use knowledge of chemistry to vary the flavors and textures in unexpected ways. Like, for example, one of our signature dishes is a cod filet cooked in lamb tallow. Cod is bland, and most of the lamb flavor is in the fat, so with a bit of finagling, this results in a piece of fish that tastes like lamb. You expect to taste fish, and you get the flavor of red meat instead.” David rubbed his eyes behind his odd civilian model holo-lenses. “The problem is, if you’ve never had cod before, and you’ve never had lamb before, you’d just… assume that cod tastes rich and gamey instead of bland. Trickey of this sort requires you to have preconceptions that I can undermine.” He shook his head. “Not that it really matters, since nobody’s wanted to order lamb-flavored anything since the fucking summer.”
“Why not?” I asked. “What’s changed?”
David pulled up another picture on his holopad. “Take a guess,” he said wryly.
He showed me a picture of a quadrupedal Venlil, and I nearly fell out of my chair laughing at its dumb fluffy face.

View Poll

Here are some small tips on being more eco-friendly while cleaning:

1. Use natural cleaning products such as vinegar, baking soda, and lemon juice.
2. Use microfiber cloths instead of paper towels.
3. Use a reusable mop instead of disposable mop pads.
4. Use a vacuum with a HEPA filter to reduce indoor air pollution.
5. Use a washing machine with a high-efficiency rating to save water and energy.
6. Use a drying rack or clothesline instead of a dryer.
7. Use a steam cleaner instead of harsh chemicals to clean floors and carpets.
8. Use a reusable dust mop instead of disposable Swiffer pads.
9. Use a natural air freshener such as essential oils or fresh flowers.
10. Use a reusable spray bottle instead of buying new cleaning products in plastic bottles.

https://honesthoneyreviews.blogspot.com/2023/05/how-to-clean-your-home-green-way-best.html

Here are some small tips on being more eco-friendly while cleaning:

1. Use natural cleaning products such as vinegar, baking soda, and lemon juice.
2. Use microfiber cloths instead of paper towels.
3. Use a reusable mop instead of disposable mop pads.
4. Use a vacuum with a HEPA filter to reduce indoor air pollution.
5. Use a washing machine with a high-efficiency rating to save water and energy.
6. Use a drying rack or clothesline instead of a dryer.
7. Use a steam cleaner instead of harsh chemicals to clean floors and carpets.
8. Use a reusable dust mop instead of disposable Swiffer pads.
9. Use a natural air freshener such as essential oils or fresh flowers.
10. Use a reusable spray bottle instead of buying new cleaning products in plastic bottles.

https://honesthoneyreviews.blogspot.com/2023/05/how-to-clean-your-home-green-way-best.html

Here are some small tips on being more eco-friendly while cleaning:

1. Use natural cleaning products such as vinegar, baking soda, and lemon juice.
2. Use microfiber cloths instead of paper towels.
3. Use a reusable mop instead of disposable mop pads.
4. Use a vacuum with a HEPA filter to reduce indoor air pollution.
5. Use a washing machine with a high-efficiency rating to save water and energy.
6. Use a drying rack or clothesline instead of a dryer.
7. Use a steam cleaner instead of harsh chemicals to clean floors and carpets.
8. Use a reusable dust mop instead of disposable Swiffer pads.
9. Use a natural air freshener such as essential oils or fresh flowers.
10. Use a reusable spray bottle instead of buying new cleaning products in plastic bottles.

https://honesthoneyreviews.blogspot.com/2023/05/how-to-clean-your-home-green-way-best.html

Helvark sprinted down the street, the two knife wielding thugs hot on his scaled tail. Commonly mistaken for Geknosians, the Zartani could expect little help from bystanders. However if anyone took one look at his keyhole shaped pupils they'd know he wasn't one of those Tyrannical slavers.
Helvark glanced behind him, seeing the vulpine one on the left gaining quickly. That was also when he ran into something he at first mistook for a statue and fell painfully backwards onto his tail.
Rubbing his head, the Zartani looked up in shock as a giant of lore slowly stood and turned around. the average sized black cat cradled in it's arms looking like a kitten.
"I'm sorry, am I in the way mr.lizard?"
The giant seemed confused, their words slow and thick from a slightly too large tongue.
Helvark shook his head in terror and surprise. Gesturing behind him at where he'd last seen his pursuers. But to his surprise, all that remained was a wet spot on the concrete and two abandoned knives. Helvark felt his mouth dry as he mumbled.
"I was being chased by some muggers... I'm new in town. Sorry for bumping into you sir."
The Zartani tourist was about to clamber to his feet when the giant simply picked him up by the shoulder and set Helvark back on his feet before asking.
"Where is your gun mr.lizard? Did you come to Lidoffad without one?"
The Tourist couldn't help but stand still as the giant roughly brushed the dust off of his clothing with their massive frying pan sized hands. Slowly Helvark shook his head, not understanding the question.
"A... A gun? Why would I have a gun?"
The giant nodded sagely and Beckoned for the tourist to follow as he set the cat down. Helvark quickly followed, more afraid of the towering example of human physique than he's like to admit
The giant however, didn't seem to notice or care as he introduced himself.
"My name's Bobby, mr.lizard. and you should have a gun because Lidoffad has no government or police. Everyone is responsible for their own safety, security and health. Needless to say, thieves, muggers and kidnappers do not have a long-"
Bobby was cut off by the sound of six rapid shots from an alleyway they passed. Morbidly curious, Helvark looked down the alleyway, surprised at what he saw.
A petite Mousian woman held a small Kelvian child to her stomach, covering their ears. A simple black handgun still pointed at the unmoving form of an insectoid species he didn't recognize. but even slumped against the wall, it was clearly taller and more massive than the woman and child combined. Brackish blood dripping from between it's mandibles.
Bobby stepped past Helvark, voice echoing down the alleyway as he called out to the woman.
"Ms.Shein, are you okay."
The Mousian woman, no, Ms.shein nodded curtly.
"I'm fine, kid's pretty shaken up though. I think she's a long way from home too, judging by the fact she's still struggling with the planet's gravity."
Bobby nodded and patted ms.shein on the shoulder.
"Take her to captain Leandra, she'll know what to do. What happened?"
Ms.shein's eyes hardened.
"It was a lure scheme. Heard the kid crying in the alleyway and went to investigate, this waste of oxygen tried kidnapping me too... So I shot him... Stupid fuck brought a replica to a gunfight."
Bobby nodded while Helvark's hand covered his gaping mouth. What was this place, he'd heard it was a top vacation spot but right now it seemed like a warzone.
Bobby noticed the Zartani's expression and simply stated.
"As I was saying before, thieves, muggers, kidnappers. Their life expectancy on Lidoffad is measured in days, sometimes hours depending on the nature of their... Chosen immorality. There's work to be done everywhere you look on Lidoffad, and for a liveable wage. You don't need to steal to support yourself."
Bobby stood and took the Zartani's shoulder in one hand, guiding him away from the dead insectoid. Leaving ms.shein behind to walk in relative silence.
...
After an hour or so of walking, Helvark was suddenly stopped by Bobby as the giant opened a building's steel reinforced door. The giant gestured Helvark inside and as soon. As the Zartani walked in, he smelled it.
The slight smell of burnt gunpowder hung in the air, intermingling with the surprisingly intoxicating smell of fine liquor, tobbaco and a sharp chemical smell he couldn't quite place.
The portly human behind the counter smiled as they looked up from their magazine.
"Welcome to the alcohol, tobacco, firearms and explosives superstore! We've got a special running on Plastique in case you need something to remove a troublesome Crimson jacket nest."
Helvark paused, looking around at the gleaming, new production firearms, the bottles of rich, dark brown alcohol, the humidors filled with cigars, bins of grenades and neatly wrapped blocks of plastic explosives. He was a little spooked, but he also had the sudden urge to buy one of everything. On his home planet you couldn't even get your hands on a certain wattage of laser pointer, much less the Colt M40 assault carbine he was currently ogling.
That was when he realized he probably didn't have enough money to buy the cheapest polymer handgun in the store. He deflated a bit until Bobby spoke up.
"I'll get the tab, just choose something you like that isn't too expensive."
Helvark couldn't believe his ear holes as his eyes slid onto the gun that he'd seen Ms.shein carrying. The tag said it cost about five hundred standard credits and came with two "magazines." Helvark immediately pointed at it.
"I'll take that one then please, that's the same kind Ms.shein was carrying right?"
The shop owner smiled widely sharing a glance with Bobby who gave him a nod of approval before he walked over and unlocked the glass cabinet to pull the handgun out, Explaining how to operate it.
"Okay, this one's just about as simple as they come son. It doesn't have any fancy bells or whistles but it can still put a tyrant bug in the dirt. It's chambered in nine millimeter HEP but you can fire standard, non High Explosive Propelled nine millimeter in it with just a top slide swap. Though, personally, I'd stick to the HEP barrel and top slide assembly. It's the best bang for the modern buck. It's got a trigger safety so make sure you keep your finger off the trigger until you're ready to rock. To load it, slap a loaded magazine in the grip, pull the slide back and let it go."
Helvark slowly went through the motions getting a feel for the gun in his hand as he slipped a magazine loaded with dummy rounds into the grip before racking the slide back. In truth, it felt good to feel the weight of the firearm in his hand. It was like reconnecting with a friend you didn't know you'd lost.
Helvark looked up at the man behind the counter and calmly said.
"It's perfect, but I'll need some ammo as well if I'm gonna get it."
He glanced sheepishly at Bobby, the fear of the giant very much still there, but his current excitement momentarily overpowered it. Bobby just smiled and looked at the man behind the counter.
"I think our tourist is about ready to become a citizen Hank. Set him up with the starter package and I'll take him to the range tomorrow."
Helvark watched on with both mounting excitement and a little bit of disbelief as the two humans worked their way throughout the store. Gathering a small amount of everything from cigars to high explosives and blasting caps. Eventually he pulled his jaw off the floor and asked.
"Is this why Lidoffad is number one on most tourism brochures?"
The two humans paused and then began laughing like he'd just told a joke. Bobby's laugh made the bottles on the shelves rattle as he finally forced back his laughter.
"Oh, we're barely scratching the surface mr.lizard. wait until you catch a game of stratosphere."
Helvark frowned.
"What's stratosphere?"
The gun shop employee answered this time.
"You know that old human sport they talk about in textbooks to show how we're not sane? The one where they'd throw telephone poles. Stratosphere is that, but you're trying to launch a similarly sized metal rod as high as you can with homemade explosives. They have to be manufactured on festival grounds too, so no cheating with the manufactured stuff."
Helvark felt his heart rate pick up. Not because he was scared...
No, because he was a Zartani chemist and he was starting to think about which explosive he'd need to make to win that game.
"Where do I sign up?"
It was the humans turn to look a bit concerned at the Zartani's manic grin.

So, for my cakeday I'm delving out some veteran advice for all you neophyte potheads on your way to becoming professional stoners, on how to deal with smell!

• Theres a joke that goes like this: [Stoner 1, asking his friend]: "Hey man, do I smell like weed?" [Stoner 2, replying to his friend]: "Naa man. Hey man, do I smell like weed?" [Stoner 1, in response]: "Naa man, we're all good man". The caption on this joke is "Two idiots who smell like weed". The lesson of this joke is that you smell like weed, and everyone knows it but you and your stoner friends... Always assume you smell like weed.
• Weed is a very distinct smell, and it sticks around. It lingers long after you're done smoking, and you leave a trail of the smell behind you when you walk indoors. Blunts are going to be your biggest offenders, followed closely by joints. They not only have the most potent smell, but due to the nature of smoking them, they imprint that smell on your body, your clothing, your face, your fingers, your hair and your breath. Next in line is going to be your standard glass or metal pipes, and it is important to remember the more you play with your weed (for instance, touching the weed to pack it down or press the "cherry", popping the carb, etc), the more smell is going to stick to your fingers. Bongs have the next lowest footprint, but one important thing to remember is if you're indoors, that smoke is still sticking to your skin, hair and clothing, and its going to be on your breath. Outdoors is a little better, the more ventilated the better, but then also remember that the smell is going to carry on the wind and is going to be pretty obvious in a big bubble all around you (a good rule of thumb is to assume the smell is going to carry for at least 50-100 feet). The least stinky option is a (cartridge) vape pen, but even these can still leave a pretty distinct odor to those who know what they're smelling. Actually, the least stinky is going to be an edible or drinkable, but for the purposes of smokers, you know what I'm getting at.
• The harder you try to cover up the smell, the worse you are going to smell and the more obvious it is going to be what you're doing. When you burn incense indoors, you make it smell like weed and incense. Similarly, using body spray and cologne on yourself will make you smell like body spray and weed, or cologne/perfume and weed. Remember Emily Post's Etiquette when it comes to cologne, "Your scent should be discovered, not announced". Too much cologne or perfume is a horrible smell, and it isn't masking your weed, it just makes you smell like you don't know how to apply cologne. If you want to smell like a dirty hippie, patchouli is no substitute for a bath/shower and clean clothes. Again, you're not confusing anyone, you may think you don't smell like weed anymore, but everyone else who isn't smoking weed knows what you smell like.
• Dryer sheets are your best friend for several reasons. First of all, they're amazing at absorbing smoke AND odor. Stuff a few dryer sheets in a cardboard tube and blow your smoke in the tube to reduce the effect of the smell and odor. Remember, this is a REDUCTION, it does not MASK the smell 100%, however, if you are just smoking in your bedroom or a bathroom or your car like one time, and you don't want your upholstery to smell like an Amsterdam coffee house, this can help. In a similar fashion, after you smoke, instead of spritzing yourself with body spray, rub your clothing down with a dryer sheet. This is far more effective at absorbing the smell (and hopefully replaces it with something a little less potent and again, far less obvious). Of course, for best effect, change your clothes and wash your clothing. When you dry your clothes, use an extra dryer sheet and you can avoid your clothing smelling permanently like weed. Same goes for your bedsheets, car seats, drapes, etc. Rub them down with dryer sheets instead of spraying them with air freshener or something worse. Another hint: You get what you pay for. Store brand dryer sheets are fine, but if you dish out the extra few dollars for the name brand stuff, you're going to get better results. Personally, I think Bounce and Gain do the best job.
• Febreeze is not your friend. The reason for this is hard to explain without getting into some science, but basically, Febreeze will absorb the odor from the air, then carry it down to the surfaces of your furniture, carpet, etc, and then imprint that odor into those surfaces, and because of its "sticky" nature, it is very difficult to remove that smell once it is attached via that kind of chemical. Ozium is a very popular hospital grade deodorizer that does a great job of getting the smell out of the air, but similarly to Febreeze, because it has glycol, it is sticky and hard to remove from things like upholstery and fabrics (however, unlike Febreeze, Ozium is much more easily released via deep hot water extractors and steam cleaners). Ozium can be wiped away from solid surfaces, but I generally only recommend it as a quick treatment for smell, and not a regular method of getting rid of the stink.
• If you smoke indoors, do yourself a favor and get yourself the kind of ashtray that can be covered up (cans with lids or sometimes what they call a "smokeless ashtray"). The first reason for this is the stink. The second reason for this is because if you knock it over, you won't spill ash everywhere. Marijuana ash is usually still fairly resinated and it holds smell, but the worst thing about it is trying to clean it up. I have never found a good way to prevent it from getting ground into carpet, upholstery, etc, and once its in there, it holds that smell for a VERY long time. Avoiding this situation saves a lot of stress down the road.
• CLEAN YOUR BONG! Seriously, bongwater is horrible, and aside from making your bong skunky, if you spill it, much like the ash lesson above, it is going to leave that smell in whatever absorbs it for a VERY long time. We all know its a pain, but for real, get in the habit of pouring out your bong water between every sesh, and make a regular habit of cleaning your bong out with some isopropyl alcohol and a mixture of table salt and epsom salts (you can buy these in the grocery store, look around where you find things like band-aids and other first aid products). The salts are abrasive (they do not dissolve in isopropyl alcohol) and will scrape all the crap off the insides of your glassware. In the same vein, for cleaning your glass pipes and such, use a mixture of table salt and isopropyl alcohol in a ziplock baggie, put your pipe in there and shake it around like crazy. I prefer this method over boiling pipes, because it is far faster, works pretty much just as well, and I don't feel bad about throwing away a ziplock baggie full of resin and salt -- I have ruined many half and one quart pots by boiling a heavily resinated pipe in them and then not being able to clean that resin off the inside of the pot. Also, boiling a glass pipe is a good way to bake the glass to a brittle state. I broke my heart when I boiled my favorite pipe and then rested it on a surface that was too cold and the temperature difference caused the glass to crack.
• Finally, investing in some proper storage will pay off in the long run. Get yourself some proper air-tight and water tight containers to store your weed in. Plastic baggies and cellophanes from cigarette packs are amateur grade. They don't hide the smell of your weed and worst case scenario, if you live in an illegal state, they scream "dealer". Glass jars with airtight lids will keep your weed from drying out and protect it from fungus and mold. The good ones are tinted to prevent light contamination too. For extra bonus points, get yourself a proper size mini-fridge with a freezer compartment. Keep your use-stash in the fridge, and if you have bulk, put it in the freezer. Weed stored in a freezer is going to have the least amount of smell to it, and the weed you keep refrigerated will stay fresher longer (so it'll keep that nice, fresh, weed taste and clean smell when you smoke it). Put a box of baking soda (yes, the arm and hammer kind) in the back of that fridge too, to absorb any extra odor that may be present, so that when you open the fridge, it doesn't waft the smell of bulk weed all across your habitation. This is also the best method for storing your wax, hash, oil, other dab stuff as well. Personally, I even like to keep my in-use glassware in the fridge as well. Because by its nature a fridge is (hopefully) air-tight, this keeps the smell down even more. Just remember, you're not putting this stuff in a deep freeze, you just want to keep it cool and fresh.

Hope this advice helps some of you keep things clean, hygenic, and odor-free! Remember to be a happy, healthy stoner, don't be the stereotypical stoner like the two guys in the joke. The best compliment you'll get is from someone who's known you and respects you, and finds out you're a stoner for the first time and says "I never would have guessed that about you". If you don't stink and you don't resemble the negative stereotype, then you help us all present an image that deserves better respect. Happy smoking!

Here are some small tips on being more eco-friendly while cleaning:

1. Use natural cleaning products such as vinegar, baking soda, and lemon juice.
2. Use microfiber cloths instead of paper towels.
3. Use a reusable mop instead of disposable mop pads.
4. Use a vacuum with a HEPA filter to reduce indoor air pollution.
5. Use a washing machine with a high-efficiency rating to save water and energy.
6. Use a drying rack or clothesline instead of a dryer.
7. Use a steam cleaner instead of harsh chemicals to clean floors and carpets.
8. Use a reusable dust mop instead of disposable Swiffer pads.
9. Use a natural air freshener such as essential oils or fresh flowers.
10. Use a reusable spray bottle instead of buying new cleaning products in plastic bottles.

https://honesthoneyreviews.blogspot.com/2023/05/how-to-clean-your-home-green-way-best.html

Here are some small tips on being more eco-friendly while cleaning:

1. Use natural cleaning products such as vinegar, baking soda, and lemon juice.
2. Use microfiber cloths instead of paper towels.
3. Use a reusable mop instead of disposable mop pads.
4. Use a vacuum with a HEPA filter to reduce indoor air pollution.
5. Use a washing machine with a high-efficiency rating to save water and energy.
6. Use a drying rack or clothesline instead of a dryer.
7. Use a steam cleaner instead of harsh chemicals to clean floors and carpets.
8. Use a reusable dust mop instead of disposable Swiffer pads.
9. Use a natural air freshener such as essential oils or fresh flowers.
10. Use a reusable spray bottle instead of buying new cleaning products in plastic bottles.

https://honesthoneyreviews.blogspot.com/2023/05/how-to-clean-your-home-green-way-best.html

Here are some small tips on being more eco-friendly while cleaning:

1. Use natural cleaning products such as vinegar, baking soda, and lemon juice.
2. Use microfiber cloths instead of paper towels.
3. Use a reusable mop instead of disposable mop pads.
4. Use a vacuum with a HEPA filter to reduce indoor air pollution.
5. Use a washing machine with a high-efficiency rating to save water and energy.
6. Use a drying rack or clothesline instead of a dryer.
7. Use a steam cleaner instead of harsh chemicals to clean floors and carpets.
8. Use a reusable dust mop instead of disposable Swiffer pads.
9. Use a natural air freshener such as essential oils or fresh flowers.
10. Use a reusable spray bottle instead of buying new cleaning products in plastic bottles.

https://honesthoneyreviews.blogspot.com/2023/05/how-to-clean-your-home-green-way-best.html

Here are some small tips on being more eco-friendly while cleaning:

1. Use natural cleaning products such as vinegar, baking soda, and lemon juice.
2. Use microfiber cloths instead of paper towels.
3. Use a reusable mop instead of disposable mop pads.
4. Use a vacuum with a HEPA filter to reduce indoor air pollution.
5. Use a washing machine with a high-efficiency rating to save water and energy.
6. Use a drying rack or clothesline instead of a dryer.
7. Use a steam cleaner instead of harsh chemicals to clean floors and carpets.
8. Use a reusable dust mop instead of disposable Swiffer pads.
9. Use a natural air freshener such as essential oils or fresh flowers.
10. Use a reusable spray bottle instead of buying new cleaning products in plastic bottles.

https://honesthoneyreviews.blogspot.com/2023/05/how-to-clean-your-home-green-way-best.html

Here are some small tips on being more eco-friendly while cleaning:

1. Use natural cleaning products such as vinegar, baking soda, and lemon juice.
2. Use microfiber cloths instead of paper towels.
3. Use a reusable mop instead of disposable mop pads.
4. Use a vacuum with a HEPA filter to reduce indoor air pollution.
5. Use a washing machine with a high-efficiency rating to save water and energy.
6. Use a drying rack or clothesline instead of a dryer.
7. Use a steam cleaner instead of harsh chemicals to clean floors and carpets.
8. Use a reusable dust mop instead of disposable Swiffer pads.
9. Use a natural air freshener such as essential oils or fresh flowers.
10. Use a reusable spray bottle instead of buying new cleaning products in plastic bottles.

https://honesthoneyreviews.blogspot.com/2023/05/how-to-clean-your-home-green-way-best.html

Here are some small tips on being more eco-friendly while cleaning:

1. Use natural cleaning products such as vinegar, baking soda, and lemon juice.
2. Use microfiber cloths instead of paper towels.
3. Use a reusable mop instead of disposable mop pads.
4. Use a vacuum with a HEPA filter to reduce indoor air pollution.
5. Use a washing machine with a high-efficiency rating to save water and energy.
6. Use a drying rack or clothesline instead of a dryer.
7. Use a steam cleaner instead of harsh chemicals to clean floors and carpets.
8. Use a reusable dust mop instead of disposable Swiffer pads.
9. Use a natural air freshener such as essential oils or fresh flowers.
10. Use a reusable spray bottle instead of buying new cleaning products in plastic bottles.

https://honesthoneyreviews.blogspot.com/2023/05/how-to-clean-your-home-green-way-best.html

Here's a recipe for homemade fried chicken:
Ingredients:
2 ½ to 3 pounds (1.1 to 1.4 kg) chicken pieces (legs, thighs, wings, or breasts) 2 cups (480 ml) buttermilk 2 cups (240 g) all-purpose flour 1 tablespoon (15 g) paprika 1 tablespoon (15 g) garlic powder 1 tablespoon (15 g) onion powder 1 teaspoon (5 g) salt 1 teaspoon (5 g) black pepper 1 teaspoon (5 g) cayenne pepper (adjust to taste) Vegetable oil for frying Instructions:
Place the chicken pieces in a large bowl and pour the buttermilk over them. Ensure that the chicken is well-coated in the buttermilk. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 2 hours or overnight. This step helps to tenderize the chicken and infuse it with flavor. In a shallow dish or pie plate, combine the flour, paprika, garlic powder, onion powder, salt, black pepper, and cayenne pepper. Mix well to create the seasoned flour mixture. Remove the chicken pieces from the buttermilk, allowing any excess to drip off. Dredge each piece in the seasoned flour mixture, pressing the flour into the chicken to ensure it adheres well. Shake off any excess flour. Place the coated chicken pieces on a wire rack or a clean platter and let them rest for about 15-20 minutes. This allows the flour coating to set and adhere to the chicken. Meanwhile, heat about 1 inch (2.5 cm) of vegetable oil in a large skillet or Dutch oven over medium-high heat. The oil should reach a temperature of around 350°F (175°C) for frying. Carefully place a few chicken pieces in the hot oil, skin side down. Do not overcrowd the pan, as this can lower the oil temperature and make the chicken greasy. Fry the chicken in batches if necessary. Cook the chicken for about 6-8 minutes per side, or until the coating is golden brown and the chicken reaches an internal temperature of 165°F (74°C). Use a meat thermometer to ensure the chicken is cooked through. Once cooked, transfer the fried chicken pieces to a wire rack or a paper towel-lined plate to drain any excess oil. Repeat the frying process with the remaining chicken pieces, ensuring the oil temperature is maintained. Let the fried chicken rest for a few minutes before serving to allow the juices to redistribute and the coating to crisp up. Serve the delicious homemade fried chicken hot, alongside your favorite side dishes like mashed potatoes, coleslaw, biscuits, or cornbread. Enjoy your crispy and flavorful homemade fried chicken!